Reconcilliation, Supernatural, NC-17
Fandom: Supernatural
Title: Reconcilliation
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean, John, Bobby, Ellen, OMC
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3570
Summary: A sequel to Anything which was a Christmas request from nanakomatsu, Nothing, Something, To Be Good, Broken, To Be Strong, Nothing, No One, Alone, Yours, Mine, Better, Choice, Gathering, Betrayal, Taken, Remember, Training, Conflagration, Setting Up, Surviving, Pretending, Rescue and Revelations.
Summary: Bobby tries to reconcile what he has learned about Robert, Dean and Sam tries to reconcile what their father has learned about them and Sam reconciles his anger and fear of Robert
A/Ns and Warnings: Very dark. Includes memory of torture and rape and very dark violence.
Bobby left the motel room and kept walking, across the barely two lane road that led into the small town, and into the local bar. Two men sat at a table off near a jukebox spinning old fashioned country music and a bartender who looked like he’d seen better days leaned on the bar.
“Whiskey.” Bobby said, not even looking up. It was barely ten in the morning and he hadn’t eaten in more than twenty-four hours…but he needed a drink.
The bartender nodded and set a glass down in front of him, pouring a generous shot. Bobby’s hand stopped him as he pulled away. “Leave the bottle.”
He should have killed him. Should have never let John find out about his boys. Not like that. Should have shot his son in the head when he knew he’d given them everything he knew. Shouldn’t have let John stop him. Shouldn’t have let Dean in the room.
Bobby downed the whiskey, and poured a second glass.
The whole thing turned his stomach. It wasn’t as though Dean’s revelation changed anything. Nothing could justify what Robert did to Sam…to Dean…not to mention whatever two girls in Vegas…god only knew what had happened to them.
Bobby downed the whiskey, and poured a third glass.
Robert was his son, his responsibility…but something had gone seriously wrong with that boy…something he’d never seen. He could try to justify it, say he hardly saw the boy…say his mother always was a little soft in the head…but when it came right down to it, Bobby knew.
Bobby downed the whiskey and dropped some money on the bar, grabbing the bottle to take back to the motel with him. John was leaning on the rail outside the room where they had Robert when he came back, staring at the gun in his hands. Bobby stopped and John looked up.
Neither of them spoke. After a long moment, Bobby held out the bottle and John took it, tipping his head back and pouring the gold liquid into his mouth, closing his eyes as he swallowed. He handed it back just as silently and looked back down at the gun. Slowly he tucked into the pocket of his jacket.
“Gabe and Allen are back with food.”
Bobby nodded. “Best to leave it for now anyway.”
“He’s not going anywhere.”
Gabe knocked lightly on the door between the rooms before he opened it. Sam sat on the nearer bed, propped up with pillows behind him and under his leg, flipping through the television channels. He looked up and managed a half smile. Gabe smiled back, his eyes looking for Dean and finding him in the corner near the front window, squatting with his back to the wall, looking lost, broken.
“I brought breakfast.” Gabe said, holding up McDonald’s bags.
Dean stood at the sound of his voice, his hollow eyes seeking out Sam’s first, then coming up to Gabe’s. “Yes. You need to eat Sam.”
“So do you Dean.” Sam said, his voice tired and scratchy. Dean nodded absently and came to the bed.
Gabe’s eyes followed the movement and he suddenly felt like he was watching something he shouldn’t be. He put the bags on the bed. “I-my dad needs me.”
Sam nodded, watching him disappear back behind the door. “Come eat with me Dean.”
Dean shook his head. “Not hungry.”
Sam looked up at him. He’d been shut down since their father brought him back, wouldn’t tell him what happened, what Robert said or did…or why he was still there…or what was going to happen. It made him feel like he was ten again and Dean was trying to protect him from finding out that he’d beat up the bully who’d made Sam skin his knees.
“Please, Dean?” Sam reached out his hand and Dean came to him, then pulled away as soon as they touched.
“He knows.”
It was the third or fourth time he’d said that since he’d come back. “Who knows what, Dean?”
Dean’s face was white. “Robert told him…about us…about you and me…about us…”
Sam shivered. “Dad knows?”
Dean paced away. “What exactly, Dean? What does he know?”
“Bad…knows I’m bad…” He stopped pacing and turned, suddenly more himself. “He knows I fucked my brother, Sam. He’s gonna kick the shit out of me.”
Sam could feel panic nibbling at his outer edges…panic that Dean was right…that their father would hurt Dean for it…for letting Sam seduce him, for giving in to his begging…panic that Robert was still breaking Dean…that Robert could still break them both.
Dean sat on the edge of the bed. “He thinks he’s in love with you, Sam. Thinks you loved him…”
Sam reached for his hand and shook his head. “No, Dean. You…always you. Only you.”
“Said I was perverted.”
Sam smiled a little. “Well…even a sick fuck like him is bound to be right once in a while.” Dean’s head popped up, but he grinned when he saw Sam’s face and his smirk.
The smile faded fast and Dean squeezed his hand. “He…said…he…touched you…that he…”
Sam closed his eyes. No…”I never wanted you to know.”
Dean’s free hand caressed his cheek. “Want to know everything, Sam.”
Sam couldn’t help the tears. “I…I’m so ashamed, Dean…to…god…the way he…touched me and the things he said…” Sam leaned into his brother’s touch. “It was that first day…in the van. They drugged me…I couldn’t stop it…I couldn’t even try. I screamed…but I couldn’t move…and I kept telling myself I could handle it…I could be strong…but he was…gentle…he told me he loved me and wanted me to be with him forever.”
Dean moved a little closer, leaning forward until his forehead connected with Sam’s. “It’s okay Sammy…its okay…you did good. You held on until I could come for you.”
“He…its all because of me.” Sam whispered across Dean’s lips. “You must hate me…” He groaned and his stomach burned. “Please don’t hate me Dean…I can’t…I need you. Need you so much.”
Dean’s kiss was soft, his lips warm. “Don’t hate you Sam. Never hate you. You came for me,” he murmured.
Sam pressed forward, kissing him back. “You came for me,” he whispered back.
“Guess we’re stuck with each other then.” Dean’s lips opened against his and Sam let his tongue steal into his brother’s mouth. Dean’s hand slipped from his cheek to the back of his neck, and Sam suddenly felt other hands, grabbing, touching, pulling…he gasped and yanked himself back, shivering as he covered his face and turned away. “Sam?”
“I’m sorry…Dean…god, I can’t…I…can’t.”
“My fault.” Dean was gone, off the bed, away toward the bathroom. “Too soon, too much. I’m…I’m gonna take a shower…you…you eat. Okay?”
Sam drew a deep breath and watched the door close. Dean tasted like bad hotel coffee, acid and bite. Robert had tasted like stale beer. Sam swallowed and tried to head the memory off before it took over, but it only changed from that kiss in the cage to the feeling of his cock pushing into him…the way his hands knew all the places on his back and how to touch them…The way he knew exactly how Dean touched him…when to lick…when to pinch…How Sam had cried Dean’s name into the gag when he came and Robert had pulled out of him, leaving him cold and empty and dripping come…but only after pulling his hair and biting down on Sam’s neck…marking him, claiming him.
Sam swallowed and looked toward the bathroom as he heard the shower come on. His heart was racing. He knew they had killed…the hunters, his father,…had killed everyone at the compound. Everyone but Robert. And Robert was here. In room 16.
It hurt like nothing he’d ever felt, but Sam moved until he could get his good foot on the floor and swing the heavy cast down. He wasn’t exactly mobile…but with a little effort, he managed, dragging the cast until he could reach under the pillow on Dean’s bed for the gun he saw his father put there earlier. He checked the load and dragged his broken leg to the door.
He was relieved when he discovered that his father’s adjoining room was on his right and 16 was to the left. It was going to be slow going, and he wasn’t sure he’d have what it took to slip past the window unnoticed. As it was, Dean would be out of the bathroom before long.
Sam limped, pulled and practically crawled down the two doors and nearly cried in frustration and exhaustion when he realized that of course the door would be locked. He looked around him for a way in. “Fuck.”
He could break the window, but didn’t think he could haul his cast encased leg up and through it. Then he saw movement in the room, a shadow on the window. Of course, his father wouldn’t have left him alone. He’d have left someone in there with him.
Whoever was in there wouldn’t let him in, they’d call his father…unless he was forceful. He could be forceful. He hid the gun behind his back and knocked lightly. The door cracked open, then shut as whoever was inside slid the chain off. “Sam?”
“Caleb?” Sam’s voice was little more than a squeak and if he wasn’t already ready to collapse he would have turned and run.
“You shouldn’t be up. You should be-“
Sam shook his head and grabbed onto the door jamb to pull himself forward. “Need to see him.”
“Sam-“
But Sam pushed himself past Caleb, into the room, stopping short as he found Robert. He was tied to a chair, gagged, his face purple, his nose broken at a strange angle. His eyes bugged when they saw Sam and his breathing sounded distressed.
“You should go Caleb.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Sam lifted the gun, pointed it at Robert and limped closer. “Go away Caleb…You don’t need to see this…”
“Sam, think about this.”
“I know what I’m doing.”
“I don’t think you do.” Caleb’s hand was on his arm. “Sam, you’re not this person.”
His voice shook, but his eyes never left Robert’s. “I wasn’t…but you saw, Caleb…you know what they did to me. It’s because of him.” Sam pulled his arm out of Caleb’s hands, staggering closer. His hand shook as he pressed the gun into Robert’s face, into the bruised skin above the gag. “Dean…was gone for a year. A fucking year…because of him.” Sam punctuated “him” with a push of the muzzle.
“Sam…we need to let your Dad and Bobby handle this.”
“No…it didn’t happen to them. It happened to Dean and to me. My fault, my responsibility.” Sam leaned in close to Robert’s face. “You raped me, you sick fuck…and you can dress it up all pretty in your head thinking that you love me…but the truth is that you couldn’t stand that I loved Dean…I will always love Dean…always.”
Robert lifted his head, pressing into the gun, his eyes challenging, daring. The door behind Sam opened and his resolve wavered some.
“Sam?”
“Stay away Dean.” Sam adjusted his grip and shifted his weight, grimacing at the pain shooting through his leg. “You did this.” Sam whispered to Robert, wanting him to understand, to know. His father’s hands were on his shoulders, and Sam closed his eyes. “You did this, Robert.”
The shot rang out, the gun fell to the floor and Sam collapsed, barely caught by his father’s arms. “Oh god…I shot him…I shot him.” Sam held onto his father, twisting to look up at Bobby who stood stunned beside John, staring. “Bobby…oh god…I’m sorry…I’m…oh god.”
His stomach heaved and he bent forward, his head reeling. Bobby, he shot Bobby’s son…Everything was so fucked up. “He did it…he did this to us.” He realized on some level that he was babbling, tried to stop…he was shaking…cold…all he could hear was his own breathing…then Bobby was on his knees, pulling Sam up into his arms and holding on to him, his hands soothing over Sam’s hair.
“It’s okay, Son. It’s okay,” on endless repeat in a monotone as the two older men held him, rocking him gently.
His father’s voice purred through his body, but Sam couldn’t make out words, couldn’t look up, couldn’t see anything. His face was sticky with blood…with Robert’s blood and his body quivered.
He didn’t feel the needle at first and by the time he did he couldn’t focus enough to see who’d done it, but then his father was lifting him, picking him up like he was a kid. “That’s it. Put your head on my shoulder Sammy…I’ve got you.”
“Dad?” Everything seemed distant, buzzy around the edges.
“Go to sleep Sam. It’s all a dream. It’ll all be over soon.”
They hovered outside the room, like they could somehow change something…like their presence would make something better…though for Sam or John…or Bobby, Ellen couldn’t begin to know. Caleb and Gabe stood outside of 16. Bobby stood somewhere between. She and Allen waited in front of 14, Sam and Dean’s room. Dean was huddled up against the wall on the other side of the door.
No one spoke. They watched to see if anyone would come looking after the gun shot. They made sure no one tracked any blood out of the room. When the door opened and John emerged, the group moved as one, half step closer.
“He’s sleeping. Will for a while. We should clean up and get lost.” His eyes tracked to where Dean stood and he turned. “Go sit with him, okay? He needs you.”
Dean looked up, then nodded and moved slowly for the door. “Ellen, we’re going to need someplace safe we can stay a while, away from people if possible.”
“I’m already on it, there’s a place about 6 hours from here. Cabin, belongs to a friend.”
John nodded. He looked at Bobby. Despite everything, Robert was his son. Despite everything, Bobby had been ready to do it himself, but it was still something you just were never ready for. He moved over to Bobby, his hand coming down heavily on his shoulder. “Want me to give you something? Sleep until we’re ready to move?”
Bobby shook his head, looking at his hands. “I’ll take care of my boy.” He said it softly.
“We can-“
“Damn it John, stop. Just back off and let me handle it.”
“I’m going to ride with Gabe and Allen.” Caleb said, wincing a little as his back twinged.
“You don’t need to follow us around, Caleb. You should go home, get rested.” John looked up from this repacking of his duffle.
Caleb shook his head. “You’re a stubborn old fool, you know?”
John chuckled. “’Where do you think my boys got it from?”
Caleb smiled, his hands in his pockets. “I’m not leaving…not after…Sam’s going to need friends.”
John’s hands stopped moving restlessly, stilled on top of a stack of t-shirts. “What happened, Caleb?”
Caleb sighed and came to sit on the bed. “Today? Or in a broader sense?” John didn’t answer, just stared at his hands.
“I was sloppy…we were so close, and I didn’t see the second watch. The circled around before I even got into position. Hit me with a tranquilizer or something. When I came to, I was…in trouble.”
“Did they…”
“No.” Caleb got up to move around. “No…they beat me, but not…that…” How did he tell his friend that they used him instead to make Sam submit to that. “According to James, I wasn’t…the right sort of person…not young enough or something.”
“Sam…he said that it was his fault you were hurt.”
Caleb sighed again, playing with the McDonalds wrapper on the table. “James wanted to break Sam fast. He knew the fastest way to that wasn’t in threatening Sam.”
He felt John’s eyes and turned. “He beat me every time Sam resisted.”
“He saw that?”
Caleb nodded. “They made sure we both saw what was happening to the other.” If he closed his eyes, he could see it, as Sam’s eyes met his…as he knelt and exposed himself…He shook his head to clear and looked up at John. “It was bad John. I couldn’t even begin to tell you how bad.”
“He thinks this is all his fault, all of it.” John finished throwing the last of his things into the bag and pulled the zipper shut. He was quiet for a long time, and when he spoke, his voice was thick with emotion. “I don’t know what to do Caleb….don’t know how to make them better…don’t know how to…deal with this…It’s just…not real…how is this real?” He collapsed onto the bed and buried his face in his hands. “What kind of father am I?”
“None of this is your fault.” Caleb said softly. “You’re a good father, John.”
“What kind of father leaves them alone like that? Sam was wounded. Dean…god, Dean is so…lost….and I left them. Because I had to know…had to find the assholes who did this…instead of taking care of my boys.”
“If you hadn’t, and they found you, both you and Bobby would be dead. Dean would be sold to some…bastard with a need to dominate and Sam would still be there, under James…literally.” He meant the last word to sting, and he could tell it did. John flinched. “This isn’t easy, and it isn’t going to heal quickly. These people are vicious, John. More evil than anything we’ve ever hunted.”
John sighed. Caleb echoed the sound. “I hate to even say this out loud, John…but if they hadn’t grabbed Sam, we might never have found them.”
“And now, we have a chance.”
Caleb nodded. “A good chance that we can get them all. Between what Robert told you, and what Gabe found…we can cripple them.”
Dean sat on the bed opposite Sam, watching him sleep. He was restless and fitful, despite the drugs in his system. Dean wasn’t sure what to think, or how to react. Everything was different now, and it left him feeling anxious and alone.
Master was dead. Now Robert was too. His father knew. They were leaving soon. Dean could hear the sounds of cars being loaded, doors being closed. Voices. The door opened behind them and he knew it was his father by the hesitant step, the soft sigh.
John walked past Dean and checked on Sam, then turned. “So…when you left me, you gave this to me, to hold on to.” He opened his palm and the silver ring lay there on his palm. “You had the collar on when I found you. Didn’t know what to do, so I took it off.”
Dean looked at the ring for a long time before he looked up at his father. “You were angry.” He was probably more angry now.
John shook his head. “Scared.”
“Scared?” Dean narrowed his gaze and licked his lips. “For me?”
“For both of you…for my boys. Both of you alone…and where I couldn’t help you. With those monsters.” He picked the ring up off his palm and held it between them. “I’d like it if you would take it back, wear it for me.”
Dean lowered his eyes, surprise coloring his voice. “You still want me?”
“What?” John cleared his throat. “Of course, Dean. I told you, you’re my son.”
Dean didn’t move. “I’ve been waiting for you to punish me.” There was no doubt it would come. He just didn’t figure it would help to bring it up. It hadn’t worked out well either time, with his father or with Sam.
John’s hand pulled his up, fitting the ring over his middle finger, where it had been before. “Punish you for what?” he asked, his voice soft.
Dean wanted to pull his hand free, wanted to be anywhere but so close to his father. “For what I did, for running away…for what happened to Sam. For what Robert told you.”
John grunted, a sound that Dean couldn’t interpret, then pulled him into a tight embrace. “You saved your brother Dean. It was very brave and I was telling you the truth when I told you I loved you and was proud of you. I’m not going to punish you. Do you understand?”
Dean nodded against John’s chest. “What about Sam? Me and Sam?”
John let go, pulled back, glancing at Sam once before answering. “We’ll talk about that later, okay? I’m not…I can’t have that talk right now.”
Dean nodded, not sure whether or not that meant his father would beat him over it later. “We’re almost ready out there. Gabe, Caleb and Allen are leaving first. We’ll follow. Ellen and Bobby will be behind us.”
“Is Bobby…okay?”
John shrugged. “Hasn’t said much.”
He got to the door before Dean stood suddenly. “Dad?”
“Thank you. I didn’t know how else to keep him safe. I thought I was going to lose him. I thought you weren’t coming, that the helicopter went too far. But you came, and you take good care of us. And I thought you should know.”
John nodded, his hand still on the door. “Thank you Dean. That means a lot.”
“I love you, Dad. Sam too. He told me.”
John smiled, sparing a glance for his younger son. “I love you both too, Dean. Now, make sure you have everything. I’ll be in for Sam in a minute.”
“Yes, sir.”
Title: Reconcilliation
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean, John, Bobby, Ellen, OMC
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3570
Summary: A sequel to Anything which was a Christmas request from nanakomatsu, Nothing, Something, To Be Good, Broken, To Be Strong, Nothing, No One, Alone, Yours, Mine, Better, Choice, Gathering, Betrayal, Taken, Remember, Training, Conflagration, Setting Up, Surviving, Pretending, Rescue and Revelations.
Summary: Bobby tries to reconcile what he has learned about Robert, Dean and Sam tries to reconcile what their father has learned about them and Sam reconciles his anger and fear of Robert
A/Ns and Warnings: Very dark. Includes memory of torture and rape and very dark violence.
Bobby left the motel room and kept walking, across the barely two lane road that led into the small town, and into the local bar. Two men sat at a table off near a jukebox spinning old fashioned country music and a bartender who looked like he’d seen better days leaned on the bar.
“Whiskey.” Bobby said, not even looking up. It was barely ten in the morning and he hadn’t eaten in more than twenty-four hours…but he needed a drink.
The bartender nodded and set a glass down in front of him, pouring a generous shot. Bobby’s hand stopped him as he pulled away. “Leave the bottle.”
He should have killed him. Should have never let John find out about his boys. Not like that. Should have shot his son in the head when he knew he’d given them everything he knew. Shouldn’t have let John stop him. Shouldn’t have let Dean in the room.
Bobby downed the whiskey, and poured a second glass.
The whole thing turned his stomach. It wasn’t as though Dean’s revelation changed anything. Nothing could justify what Robert did to Sam…to Dean…not to mention whatever two girls in Vegas…god only knew what had happened to them.
Bobby downed the whiskey, and poured a third glass.
Robert was his son, his responsibility…but something had gone seriously wrong with that boy…something he’d never seen. He could try to justify it, say he hardly saw the boy…say his mother always was a little soft in the head…but when it came right down to it, Bobby knew.
Bobby downed the whiskey and dropped some money on the bar, grabbing the bottle to take back to the motel with him. John was leaning on the rail outside the room where they had Robert when he came back, staring at the gun in his hands. Bobby stopped and John looked up.
Neither of them spoke. After a long moment, Bobby held out the bottle and John took it, tipping his head back and pouring the gold liquid into his mouth, closing his eyes as he swallowed. He handed it back just as silently and looked back down at the gun. Slowly he tucked into the pocket of his jacket.
“Gabe and Allen are back with food.”
Bobby nodded. “Best to leave it for now anyway.”
“He’s not going anywhere.”
Gabe knocked lightly on the door between the rooms before he opened it. Sam sat on the nearer bed, propped up with pillows behind him and under his leg, flipping through the television channels. He looked up and managed a half smile. Gabe smiled back, his eyes looking for Dean and finding him in the corner near the front window, squatting with his back to the wall, looking lost, broken.
“I brought breakfast.” Gabe said, holding up McDonald’s bags.
Dean stood at the sound of his voice, his hollow eyes seeking out Sam’s first, then coming up to Gabe’s. “Yes. You need to eat Sam.”
“So do you Dean.” Sam said, his voice tired and scratchy. Dean nodded absently and came to the bed.
Gabe’s eyes followed the movement and he suddenly felt like he was watching something he shouldn’t be. He put the bags on the bed. “I-my dad needs me.”
Sam nodded, watching him disappear back behind the door. “Come eat with me Dean.”
Dean shook his head. “Not hungry.”
Sam looked up at him. He’d been shut down since their father brought him back, wouldn’t tell him what happened, what Robert said or did…or why he was still there…or what was going to happen. It made him feel like he was ten again and Dean was trying to protect him from finding out that he’d beat up the bully who’d made Sam skin his knees.
“Please, Dean?” Sam reached out his hand and Dean came to him, then pulled away as soon as they touched.
“He knows.”
It was the third or fourth time he’d said that since he’d come back. “Who knows what, Dean?”
Dean’s face was white. “Robert told him…about us…about you and me…about us…”
Sam shivered. “Dad knows?”
Dean paced away. “What exactly, Dean? What does he know?”
“Bad…knows I’m bad…” He stopped pacing and turned, suddenly more himself. “He knows I fucked my brother, Sam. He’s gonna kick the shit out of me.”
Sam could feel panic nibbling at his outer edges…panic that Dean was right…that their father would hurt Dean for it…for letting Sam seduce him, for giving in to his begging…panic that Robert was still breaking Dean…that Robert could still break them both.
Dean sat on the edge of the bed. “He thinks he’s in love with you, Sam. Thinks you loved him…”
Sam reached for his hand and shook his head. “No, Dean. You…always you. Only you.”
“Said I was perverted.”
Sam smiled a little. “Well…even a sick fuck like him is bound to be right once in a while.” Dean’s head popped up, but he grinned when he saw Sam’s face and his smirk.
The smile faded fast and Dean squeezed his hand. “He…said…he…touched you…that he…”
Sam closed his eyes. No…”I never wanted you to know.”
Dean’s free hand caressed his cheek. “Want to know everything, Sam.”
Sam couldn’t help the tears. “I…I’m so ashamed, Dean…to…god…the way he…touched me and the things he said…” Sam leaned into his brother’s touch. “It was that first day…in the van. They drugged me…I couldn’t stop it…I couldn’t even try. I screamed…but I couldn’t move…and I kept telling myself I could handle it…I could be strong…but he was…gentle…he told me he loved me and wanted me to be with him forever.”
Dean moved a little closer, leaning forward until his forehead connected with Sam’s. “It’s okay Sammy…its okay…you did good. You held on until I could come for you.”
“He…its all because of me.” Sam whispered across Dean’s lips. “You must hate me…” He groaned and his stomach burned. “Please don’t hate me Dean…I can’t…I need you. Need you so much.”
Dean’s kiss was soft, his lips warm. “Don’t hate you Sam. Never hate you. You came for me,” he murmured.
Sam pressed forward, kissing him back. “You came for me,” he whispered back.
“Guess we’re stuck with each other then.” Dean’s lips opened against his and Sam let his tongue steal into his brother’s mouth. Dean’s hand slipped from his cheek to the back of his neck, and Sam suddenly felt other hands, grabbing, touching, pulling…he gasped and yanked himself back, shivering as he covered his face and turned away. “Sam?”
“I’m sorry…Dean…god, I can’t…I…can’t.”
“My fault.” Dean was gone, off the bed, away toward the bathroom. “Too soon, too much. I’m…I’m gonna take a shower…you…you eat. Okay?”
Sam drew a deep breath and watched the door close. Dean tasted like bad hotel coffee, acid and bite. Robert had tasted like stale beer. Sam swallowed and tried to head the memory off before it took over, but it only changed from that kiss in the cage to the feeling of his cock pushing into him…the way his hands knew all the places on his back and how to touch them…The way he knew exactly how Dean touched him…when to lick…when to pinch…How Sam had cried Dean’s name into the gag when he came and Robert had pulled out of him, leaving him cold and empty and dripping come…but only after pulling his hair and biting down on Sam’s neck…marking him, claiming him.
Sam swallowed and looked toward the bathroom as he heard the shower come on. His heart was racing. He knew they had killed…the hunters, his father,…had killed everyone at the compound. Everyone but Robert. And Robert was here. In room 16.
It hurt like nothing he’d ever felt, but Sam moved until he could get his good foot on the floor and swing the heavy cast down. He wasn’t exactly mobile…but with a little effort, he managed, dragging the cast until he could reach under the pillow on Dean’s bed for the gun he saw his father put there earlier. He checked the load and dragged his broken leg to the door.
He was relieved when he discovered that his father’s adjoining room was on his right and 16 was to the left. It was going to be slow going, and he wasn’t sure he’d have what it took to slip past the window unnoticed. As it was, Dean would be out of the bathroom before long.
Sam limped, pulled and practically crawled down the two doors and nearly cried in frustration and exhaustion when he realized that of course the door would be locked. He looked around him for a way in. “Fuck.”
He could break the window, but didn’t think he could haul his cast encased leg up and through it. Then he saw movement in the room, a shadow on the window. Of course, his father wouldn’t have left him alone. He’d have left someone in there with him.
Whoever was in there wouldn’t let him in, they’d call his father…unless he was forceful. He could be forceful. He hid the gun behind his back and knocked lightly. The door cracked open, then shut as whoever was inside slid the chain off. “Sam?”
“Caleb?” Sam’s voice was little more than a squeak and if he wasn’t already ready to collapse he would have turned and run.
“You shouldn’t be up. You should be-“
Sam shook his head and grabbed onto the door jamb to pull himself forward. “Need to see him.”
“Sam-“
But Sam pushed himself past Caleb, into the room, stopping short as he found Robert. He was tied to a chair, gagged, his face purple, his nose broken at a strange angle. His eyes bugged when they saw Sam and his breathing sounded distressed.
“You should go Caleb.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Sam lifted the gun, pointed it at Robert and limped closer. “Go away Caleb…You don’t need to see this…”
“Sam, think about this.”
“I know what I’m doing.”
“I don’t think you do.” Caleb’s hand was on his arm. “Sam, you’re not this person.”
His voice shook, but his eyes never left Robert’s. “I wasn’t…but you saw, Caleb…you know what they did to me. It’s because of him.” Sam pulled his arm out of Caleb’s hands, staggering closer. His hand shook as he pressed the gun into Robert’s face, into the bruised skin above the gag. “Dean…was gone for a year. A fucking year…because of him.” Sam punctuated “him” with a push of the muzzle.
“Sam…we need to let your Dad and Bobby handle this.”
“No…it didn’t happen to them. It happened to Dean and to me. My fault, my responsibility.” Sam leaned in close to Robert’s face. “You raped me, you sick fuck…and you can dress it up all pretty in your head thinking that you love me…but the truth is that you couldn’t stand that I loved Dean…I will always love Dean…always.”
Robert lifted his head, pressing into the gun, his eyes challenging, daring. The door behind Sam opened and his resolve wavered some.
“Sam?”
“Stay away Dean.” Sam adjusted his grip and shifted his weight, grimacing at the pain shooting through his leg. “You did this.” Sam whispered to Robert, wanting him to understand, to know. His father’s hands were on his shoulders, and Sam closed his eyes. “You did this, Robert.”
The shot rang out, the gun fell to the floor and Sam collapsed, barely caught by his father’s arms. “Oh god…I shot him…I shot him.” Sam held onto his father, twisting to look up at Bobby who stood stunned beside John, staring. “Bobby…oh god…I’m sorry…I’m…oh god.”
His stomach heaved and he bent forward, his head reeling. Bobby, he shot Bobby’s son…Everything was so fucked up. “He did it…he did this to us.” He realized on some level that he was babbling, tried to stop…he was shaking…cold…all he could hear was his own breathing…then Bobby was on his knees, pulling Sam up into his arms and holding on to him, his hands soothing over Sam’s hair.
“It’s okay, Son. It’s okay,” on endless repeat in a monotone as the two older men held him, rocking him gently.
His father’s voice purred through his body, but Sam couldn’t make out words, couldn’t look up, couldn’t see anything. His face was sticky with blood…with Robert’s blood and his body quivered.
He didn’t feel the needle at first and by the time he did he couldn’t focus enough to see who’d done it, but then his father was lifting him, picking him up like he was a kid. “That’s it. Put your head on my shoulder Sammy…I’ve got you.”
“Dad?” Everything seemed distant, buzzy around the edges.
“Go to sleep Sam. It’s all a dream. It’ll all be over soon.”
They hovered outside the room, like they could somehow change something…like their presence would make something better…though for Sam or John…or Bobby, Ellen couldn’t begin to know. Caleb and Gabe stood outside of 16. Bobby stood somewhere between. She and Allen waited in front of 14, Sam and Dean’s room. Dean was huddled up against the wall on the other side of the door.
No one spoke. They watched to see if anyone would come looking after the gun shot. They made sure no one tracked any blood out of the room. When the door opened and John emerged, the group moved as one, half step closer.
“He’s sleeping. Will for a while. We should clean up and get lost.” His eyes tracked to where Dean stood and he turned. “Go sit with him, okay? He needs you.”
Dean looked up, then nodded and moved slowly for the door. “Ellen, we’re going to need someplace safe we can stay a while, away from people if possible.”
“I’m already on it, there’s a place about 6 hours from here. Cabin, belongs to a friend.”
John nodded. He looked at Bobby. Despite everything, Robert was his son. Despite everything, Bobby had been ready to do it himself, but it was still something you just were never ready for. He moved over to Bobby, his hand coming down heavily on his shoulder. “Want me to give you something? Sleep until we’re ready to move?”
Bobby shook his head, looking at his hands. “I’ll take care of my boy.” He said it softly.
“We can-“
“Damn it John, stop. Just back off and let me handle it.”
“I’m going to ride with Gabe and Allen.” Caleb said, wincing a little as his back twinged.
“You don’t need to follow us around, Caleb. You should go home, get rested.” John looked up from this repacking of his duffle.
Caleb shook his head. “You’re a stubborn old fool, you know?”
John chuckled. “’Where do you think my boys got it from?”
Caleb smiled, his hands in his pockets. “I’m not leaving…not after…Sam’s going to need friends.”
John’s hands stopped moving restlessly, stilled on top of a stack of t-shirts. “What happened, Caleb?”
Caleb sighed and came to sit on the bed. “Today? Or in a broader sense?” John didn’t answer, just stared at his hands.
“I was sloppy…we were so close, and I didn’t see the second watch. The circled around before I even got into position. Hit me with a tranquilizer or something. When I came to, I was…in trouble.”
“Did they…”
“No.” Caleb got up to move around. “No…they beat me, but not…that…” How did he tell his friend that they used him instead to make Sam submit to that. “According to James, I wasn’t…the right sort of person…not young enough or something.”
“Sam…he said that it was his fault you were hurt.”
Caleb sighed again, playing with the McDonalds wrapper on the table. “James wanted to break Sam fast. He knew the fastest way to that wasn’t in threatening Sam.”
He felt John’s eyes and turned. “He beat me every time Sam resisted.”
“He saw that?”
Caleb nodded. “They made sure we both saw what was happening to the other.” If he closed his eyes, he could see it, as Sam’s eyes met his…as he knelt and exposed himself…He shook his head to clear and looked up at John. “It was bad John. I couldn’t even begin to tell you how bad.”
“He thinks this is all his fault, all of it.” John finished throwing the last of his things into the bag and pulled the zipper shut. He was quiet for a long time, and when he spoke, his voice was thick with emotion. “I don’t know what to do Caleb….don’t know how to make them better…don’t know how to…deal with this…It’s just…not real…how is this real?” He collapsed onto the bed and buried his face in his hands. “What kind of father am I?”
“None of this is your fault.” Caleb said softly. “You’re a good father, John.”
“What kind of father leaves them alone like that? Sam was wounded. Dean…god, Dean is so…lost….and I left them. Because I had to know…had to find the assholes who did this…instead of taking care of my boys.”
“If you hadn’t, and they found you, both you and Bobby would be dead. Dean would be sold to some…bastard with a need to dominate and Sam would still be there, under James…literally.” He meant the last word to sting, and he could tell it did. John flinched. “This isn’t easy, and it isn’t going to heal quickly. These people are vicious, John. More evil than anything we’ve ever hunted.”
John sighed. Caleb echoed the sound. “I hate to even say this out loud, John…but if they hadn’t grabbed Sam, we might never have found them.”
“And now, we have a chance.”
Caleb nodded. “A good chance that we can get them all. Between what Robert told you, and what Gabe found…we can cripple them.”
Dean sat on the bed opposite Sam, watching him sleep. He was restless and fitful, despite the drugs in his system. Dean wasn’t sure what to think, or how to react. Everything was different now, and it left him feeling anxious and alone.
Master was dead. Now Robert was too. His father knew. They were leaving soon. Dean could hear the sounds of cars being loaded, doors being closed. Voices. The door opened behind them and he knew it was his father by the hesitant step, the soft sigh.
John walked past Dean and checked on Sam, then turned. “So…when you left me, you gave this to me, to hold on to.” He opened his palm and the silver ring lay there on his palm. “You had the collar on when I found you. Didn’t know what to do, so I took it off.”
Dean looked at the ring for a long time before he looked up at his father. “You were angry.” He was probably more angry now.
John shook his head. “Scared.”
“Scared?” Dean narrowed his gaze and licked his lips. “For me?”
“For both of you…for my boys. Both of you alone…and where I couldn’t help you. With those monsters.” He picked the ring up off his palm and held it between them. “I’d like it if you would take it back, wear it for me.”
Dean lowered his eyes, surprise coloring his voice. “You still want me?”
“What?” John cleared his throat. “Of course, Dean. I told you, you’re my son.”
Dean didn’t move. “I’ve been waiting for you to punish me.” There was no doubt it would come. He just didn’t figure it would help to bring it up. It hadn’t worked out well either time, with his father or with Sam.
John’s hand pulled his up, fitting the ring over his middle finger, where it had been before. “Punish you for what?” he asked, his voice soft.
Dean wanted to pull his hand free, wanted to be anywhere but so close to his father. “For what I did, for running away…for what happened to Sam. For what Robert told you.”
John grunted, a sound that Dean couldn’t interpret, then pulled him into a tight embrace. “You saved your brother Dean. It was very brave and I was telling you the truth when I told you I loved you and was proud of you. I’m not going to punish you. Do you understand?”
Dean nodded against John’s chest. “What about Sam? Me and Sam?”
John let go, pulled back, glancing at Sam once before answering. “We’ll talk about that later, okay? I’m not…I can’t have that talk right now.”
Dean nodded, not sure whether or not that meant his father would beat him over it later. “We’re almost ready out there. Gabe, Caleb and Allen are leaving first. We’ll follow. Ellen and Bobby will be behind us.”
“Is Bobby…okay?”
John shrugged. “Hasn’t said much.”
He got to the door before Dean stood suddenly. “Dad?”
“Thank you. I didn’t know how else to keep him safe. I thought I was going to lose him. I thought you weren’t coming, that the helicopter went too far. But you came, and you take good care of us. And I thought you should know.”
John nodded, his hand still on the door. “Thank you Dean. That means a lot.”
“I love you, Dad. Sam too. He told me.”
John smiled, sparing a glance for his younger son. “I love you both too, Dean. Now, make sure you have everything. I’ll be in for Sam in a minute.”
“Yes, sir.”