Waking Up, Supernatural, NC-17, Broken!Verse
Fandom: Supernatural
Title: Waking Up
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean, John/Ellen, Bobby,OMC
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3096
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, Revelations and Reconciliation.
Summary: Bobby and Sam talk, John and Ellen do more than talk, Dean tries to figure out who he is now and what his place is and Sam starts to feel the strain of the whole ordeal.
A/Ns and Warnings: Very dark. Includes memory of torture and rape and very dark violence.
Sam groaned, shifting uncomfortably and clinging to the vestiges of sleep. He didn’t want to be awake…didn’t want to face anything…wanted more of whatever drug they’d given him…more of the blessed dark empty nothingness.
The air was chill, and smelled vaguely of pine. Someone nearby moved and Sam stiffened. He opened his eyes and closed them quickly. He couldn’t face him, not now, not like this. Sam wanted to roll over, turn away, but he was weighted down by the cast and the remnants of the drug, his body heavy and unresponsive.
Sam opened his eyes again, just enough to see him, sitting in the chair, arms crossed, his head down as if he were dosing…but his head came up when he felt Sam’s eyes. His own eyes were rimmed in red. He looked odd without the ever present baseball cap. “Bobby.” Sam said it with pain and apology in his voice.
Bobby shook his head and sat forward, his arms uncrossed and propping on his knees as his hands scrubbed over his face. “Don’t blame yourself for this.” His voice was deep, deeper than Sam remembered. “You hear me?”
“I…killed him…I just…” Sam swallowed. He could feel it…the gun, the spray of blood. “He was your son.”
Bobby shook his head. “No, Sam. That wasn’t my boy. I lost him, a long time ago. I don’t know when or how…but that wasn’t my son.”
“He…he was…” Sam shook his head. Even now he didn’t understand. Robert had touched him with softness, with tenderness…and yet could turn him over to men like James. “I lost it…I didn’t mean to…but the way he hurt Dean…what he told my father…”
“That was my fault. I should have…ended it before he could. I should never have let your Daddy find out like that.”
Sam narrowed his eyes, sitting up a little to stare at Bobby. “Wait.” He shook his head. “You…knew?”
Bobby’s eyes dropped to stare at his hands, and he nodded slowly. “You two weren’t exactly subtle about it.”
Sam cursed and fell back against the pillow. “How long?”
“Almost since it started.” Bobby sighed. “I figured you both needed something in your lives that wasn’t all about the hunt. Figured you’d…hell, I don’t know. But it wasn’t my place.”
Sam reeled a little with the information. “Robert…he…must have seen…he…”
Bobby’s hand touched his good leg. “Maybe it’s best we let Robert be. He’s gone now. No one will ever find the body, Sam. No one need ever know. His mother died years ago.” Bobby stood, reaching for the med kit on the nightstand and holding up a syringe. “He’s not going to hurt you anymore.”
He didn’t ask if Sam wanted the drugs, just slipped the needle into his arm. “You sleep. We’re safe. Dean is in the next room. Your Daddy’s downstairs. And I promise you that no one is going to touch you like that again.”
Ellen poured coffee before sitting beside John and letting her hand slip comfortably onto his thigh. He smiled vaguely at her then turned his attention to the computer in front of him. “Is this everything?”
Gabe nodded, holding his cup of coffee close to his face. “Everything but those odd encrypted files I pulled. Gordon and a small team are headed for Aspen. The facility there is small…according to what I found it’s a place for training the trainers. My father’s gathering another team to scope out the place in Florida. They should be there tomorrow.”
John nodded, paging through the list of facilities and land and notes from Gabe and Allen. “And the prisoners we liberated?”
Caleb sat at the table with a sigh. We got the last of them into psychiatric care this morning. Scattered them throughout the area.”
“We haven’t figured out where the Gorlians are yet. We only got a partial download of the computers before I got locked out. By the time I hacked my way back in, they were wiped.” Gabe said, sipping at his coffee. “I figure it’s a matter of time though. We work our way through these facilities and we’ll flush him out.”
“This is really good work Gabe.” John said. “Your Daddy must be very proud of you.”
He nodded. “Yeah…proud enough to ground me here instead of letting me help.”
Ellen reached across to touch his hand. “You have to realize why.”
Gabe looked at her, the shared memory of what they saw together on the video surveillance in his eyes, and he nodded. “Yeah, doesn’t mean I wouldn’t rather be out there with him.”
“He knows that.” John said, pushing the computer back to him. “But I’m glad you’re here. Sam and Dean…they need reminders of when things were…normal, for them.”
Gabe smiled, but it looked forced. “Yeah…like anything in their lives was ever normal.”
John had to concede that point. His hand slithered down to his leg, to Ellen’s hand, squeezing it lightly. “I’m just saying thank you, Gabe. For everything.”
He nodded and gathered his laptop. “I know. I should go get to work decoding those other files, see if I can figure out what they are.”
Dean watched Bobby leave his brother’s room, waiting until he’d closed the door of his own room before he let himself in to Sam’s. Sam was asleep, which was okay. Dean figured Sam needed it. He needed to eat too. Dean was aware that he hadn’t since the oatmeal…and that had been days.
He remembered his first few days after…after giving in, after breaking. He hadn’t been able to eat, not until Master explained that by doing that, he was damaging Master’s property and he would have to be punished. He ate after that. Whenever food was offered, without question.
Dean stared out the window of the cabin, out at the trees that surrounded them, isolating them from the world at large. There was a part of him that felt like they were hiding. He didn’t like hiding. He’d learned that at Bobby’s house. He crossed his arms and sighed.
He wasn’t sure what to do with himself. His father hadn’t given him any instruction. Sam was asleep. Dean found himself restless. He never did like to be cooped up. He shook his head at the thought. Maybe he hadn’t liked it, but he’d adjusted to it awfully well. So much so he’d never even thought about trying to escape…even when he knew the cage was unlocked.
He hadn’t understood in those first days why that bothered Sam so much…but now maybe he did. It was a symbol. Like the collar. That he could walk into that cage voluntarily and stay there, kneel there and wait. It was evidence of his place, of his acceptance of what they had made him to be.
He sighed and opened the window for some air. The old Dean would never have waited in an unlocked cage for his brother to come and take him away. The old Dean would never hide in a junk yard while his brother was being taken away from him.
The old Dean wouldn’t be sitting in a cabin in the woods while the people who hurt them were still out there, in the world. He knew that. He could almost see that Dean in the vague reflection in the glass of the window.
Almost.
But he wasn’t that Dean. He might not ever be that Dean again. The Dean that Sam fell in love with. The one his father understood. The one the other hunters had expected him to be. Sometimes he felt like he could pretend, but it never held for long. He could see it when Gabe looked at him…that he wasn’t strong enough, right enough…he was somehow less than the man he remembered.
“Dean.”
He turned, but Sam was still asleep, his face white and sweaty. His head tossed. “Dean.” It was pleading sound, hurt, needy. Dean left the window and crawled up on the bed beside Sam, mirroring his position, face to face. Dean took his hand and drew it up to his chest.
“I’m here Sam. I’m here.”
“Penny for your thoughts.”
John turned, leaning against the railing. Ellen smiled and handed him a glass. “Scotch. Only thing Andrew had in the cupboard. I’ll go into town in the morning for supplies.”
“Trying to get me drunk?”
She laughed. “It is what I do.”
John sipped it and nodded appreciatively. “You should go home, be with Jo. Take care of business.”
“Jo’s a big girl, and she’s handling the Roadhouse. I’m taking care of business right here.” She held up her own glass.
John drank from his glass, then met her eyes. “Yeah, why is that?”
“What? Tired of me?”
“No, you know what I mean.”
She nodded and came to lean on the railing. “I spent a long time blaming you. A long time. And hearing from you again made me realize that I’d never told you.”
“Told me what?”
She sighed. “That I forgave you…that I realized it wasn’t your fault…and that you probably still blamed yourself, so I should maybe do something about that.”
“All of that, huh?” John poured the scotch down his throat, savoring the slow heat. It was comfortable, this…thing…whatever it was becoming. Part of him was frightened by just how comfortable.
“Now I figure you got bigger things you’re blaming yourself for…and maybe I should stick around and help you realize that they aren’t your fault too.”
“You going to mother me like the boys, Ellen?”
She rose up, slow, her hair lifting softly on the light breeze. “Mother you?” She shook her head with a leisurely smile. “No…I wasn’t thinking about mothering.” Her free hand settled on his chest. Her voice was sultry, and as she moved closer he let his hand settle onto her waist. She had to stand on her toes to kiss him, tender and soft, just lips brushing over lips. “I was thinking it’s been a long time…for both of us.”
He closed his eyes and breathed in the slightly floral scent of her shampoo, letting it wash over him, letting himself feel the warmth of her in his arms, the touch of her skin on his. It had been a long time. “I liked having you in my bed, John.” Ellen whispered, her nose brushing along his chin.
“I think it was my bed, Ellen,” he said with a warm chuckle. “But, yeah…it was nice.”
Her eyes opened, all dark and affectionate and wanting. “Come to bed with me?”
He set his glass on the railing and pulled her closer, one hair skimming through her hair, tilting her head as he leaned in to kiss her…really kiss her. She melted against him, welcoming his tongue into her mouth with her own.
“I can’t be him,” he said softly when they parted and she nodded.
“And I’m not her.”
She took his hand and led him inside, up the stairs to the room she had stashed her things in. As the door closed, he pulled her back to him, turning them so that she was against the door. His kiss was deep, his hands tangled in her blond hair. Her hands worked up under his shirt, rubbing over skin and up, pushing the shirt with them until he had to break the kiss to let her pull it off. Her hands found his belt before he could even close in for another kiss, and he reciprocated, shoving one large hand into her jeans as soon as he had them open.
Ellen rocked on his hand as he slid it down, cupping her as his middle finger sought her center. She gasped as it found it and slid home, her eyes rolling closed. “Shirt.” John whispered and her hands fumbled with the buttons of her shirt, getting it open after a few tries and cupping the back of his head as he bent to kiss his way over the top of her bra.
His fingers wiggled and the palm of his hand pressed insistently on her clit as she tried to focus. “Bed,” she gasped, pointing over his shoulder. He backed up, without breaking contact…and she only stumbled once as his second finger entered her. “John.”
His lips left her first, then his hand and she moaned, even as he finished removing her jeans, and made quick work of his own. He kissed his way up from her toes, pausing to lick and suckle the inside of her thigh, then parting her legs and smiling up at her.
She groaned when his tongue found her slit, licking deep and ending with a few quick laps over her clit. She squirmed and reached for his head, but he had already moved on, kissing around her navel and up.
His cock was thick and heavy, hard and it entered her in one long, smooth stroke. “Okay?” John whispered and she nodded, pulling him down to kiss her.
He started to move, slow at first, until her legs circled him, pulling him in deeper, harder. “More…John…”
“Yeah…” She arched up into each stroke, one hand snaking between them to rub her clit in time to his thrusting, brushing long fingers against his cock as it pulled out of her. He felt her start to tremble, and pressed in harder. “That’s it…come on…” he whispered in her ear. “Let me have it.”
Her head bent back, exposing her neck, which he took as an invitation to lick the concave little spot at the base of her throat and her quaking increased and the pressure from her legs got stronger as she groaned.
He pulled out to come himself, finishing over his hand. “Next time we’ll use a condom so you don’t have to do that.” Ellen said, her voice thick as she pulled at him, encouraging him to come lay with her.
“Next time?”
“Oh, I’m just getting warmed up.”
Sam woke with a start, sitting up quickly, uncertain of where he was. Dean jumped up and away and Sam shook his head. “Its okay…I was dreaming.”
A nightmare loop of his ordeal, shooting Robert, finding Dean, his father’s face as he came to understand what had happened…and sometimes it was Bobby’s face and not Robert’s that he shot…and sometimes it was Sam inside that cage, not Dean.
Dean watched him from the corner for a minute before he came back to the bed. “You said his name…over and over again.”
Sam frowned, not understanding. “Said whose name?”
Dean wouldn’t look at him. “Robert. Sometimes like he was hurting you. Sometimes…not.”
Sam nodded. “Its…a jumbled up mess…in my head. I can’t make it make sense.”
“You killed him.” Dean said. “I watched you do it.”
Sam’s stomach twisted.
“You told me to stay away. You let Dad…but you told me to stay away.”
“I didn’t want to hurt you…didn’t want him to see you.” He hadn’t been thinking clearly…he’d only known that Robert had to pay. Sam couldn’t even stand to let Dean kiss him…Dean, who he’d always wanted near him. All because of Robert. Sam breathed slowly. “I wanted to kiss you without tasting him.”
Dean nodded, but didn’t move any closer. “He was right.”
His voice was soft and Sam just looked at him for a long minute. “About what?”
“This…thing…what we do…did.” Dean glanced up at him, then away. “It’s wrong, Sam. It’s always been wrong.”
He might as well have punched Sam in the gut. “What?” Sam reached for his hand, but he pulled it away. “What?”
“It’s my fault. I’m the oldest. I should have…I should have told you no. I shouldn’t have let it happen. You were a kid.”
“No. Don’t. Dean, please, don’t do this.” Sam could just tell what was coming…Dean was going to tell him they were through. “Please. I need you.”
Dean was quiet, staring at the blanket as his hand smoothed over it. “I need you too, Sam. Doesn’t make it right.”
“Is this…did Dad-“
Dean shook his head. “No…I haven’t seen Dad since we got here. He doesn’t know what to do with me.”
“Then why? Why would you say this to me?”
He got up and moved to the window. “Because it’s true, Sam. Brothers don’t do this. Brothers don’t kiss and have sex in old junked out cars every chance they get.”
“You don’t want me anymore?”
Dean’s shoulders sagged. “Sam…it’s not that.”
He turned to look at Sam. “I…don’t know how you could want me…after everything. How you could love me, with…everything…I let them do to you.”
“You didn’t let them-“
“I sure didn’t stop them, did I?” Dean’s voice was bitter. “And they know. I can see it in their eyes. They all know.”
Sam shivered. “Know?”
“I heard Gabe talking to Caleb about the video…security cameras. They saw. Gabe and Ellen…”
Sam felt the color drain from his face. “They saw what happened to me?”
Dean nodded. He came to sit on the bed again, reaching for Sam’s hand. “I’m sorry I wasn’t a better brother.”
Sam wanted to reassure him that he was the best brother, but couldn’t find the words. His mind was stuck on the thought that Gabe and Ellen saw. It wasn’t bad enough that Caleb was there for the whole thing…His heart was pounding, and his chest was tight. He struggled to pull in enough air. They saw. They watched while he was beaten. While he submitted…letting them use his body like he was a damn toy, an object.
“Sam?” Dean had inched closer, his hands reaching for Sam’s face, but Sam pushed him away.
Sam tried to get up, to get out of bed, but Dean pulled at him and the cast held him down. “Let go. I have to get out of here. I can’t breathe. Let me go!” He yanked himself away and his t-shirt ripped, sending Dean falling backwards while Sam lurched up and onto his good leg. The room was spinning, and he stumbled a few steps before he landed on the floor, scrambling away from Dean as he tried to help him.
“No! Let go!” He couldn’t open his eyes as the sensation swept over him, hands and cocks and laughter, and he swatted at them, flailing around on the floor, yelling hysterically. Then something was pressing down on him and Dean’s face swam near his…his father’s voice rumbled over him…and he dimly recognized the feeling of a sedative fingering his nervous system…until it found just the right chord and he slumped into unconsciousness.
Title: Waking Up
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean, John/Ellen, Bobby,OMC
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3096
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, Revelations and Reconciliation.
Summary: Bobby and Sam talk, John and Ellen do more than talk, Dean tries to figure out who he is now and what his place is and Sam starts to feel the strain of the whole ordeal.
A/Ns and Warnings: Very dark. Includes memory of torture and rape and very dark violence.
Sam groaned, shifting uncomfortably and clinging to the vestiges of sleep. He didn’t want to be awake…didn’t want to face anything…wanted more of whatever drug they’d given him…more of the blessed dark empty nothingness.
The air was chill, and smelled vaguely of pine. Someone nearby moved and Sam stiffened. He opened his eyes and closed them quickly. He couldn’t face him, not now, not like this. Sam wanted to roll over, turn away, but he was weighted down by the cast and the remnants of the drug, his body heavy and unresponsive.
Sam opened his eyes again, just enough to see him, sitting in the chair, arms crossed, his head down as if he were dosing…but his head came up when he felt Sam’s eyes. His own eyes were rimmed in red. He looked odd without the ever present baseball cap. “Bobby.” Sam said it with pain and apology in his voice.
Bobby shook his head and sat forward, his arms uncrossed and propping on his knees as his hands scrubbed over his face. “Don’t blame yourself for this.” His voice was deep, deeper than Sam remembered. “You hear me?”
“I…killed him…I just…” Sam swallowed. He could feel it…the gun, the spray of blood. “He was your son.”
Bobby shook his head. “No, Sam. That wasn’t my boy. I lost him, a long time ago. I don’t know when or how…but that wasn’t my son.”
“He…he was…” Sam shook his head. Even now he didn’t understand. Robert had touched him with softness, with tenderness…and yet could turn him over to men like James. “I lost it…I didn’t mean to…but the way he hurt Dean…what he told my father…”
“That was my fault. I should have…ended it before he could. I should never have let your Daddy find out like that.”
Sam narrowed his eyes, sitting up a little to stare at Bobby. “Wait.” He shook his head. “You…knew?”
Bobby’s eyes dropped to stare at his hands, and he nodded slowly. “You two weren’t exactly subtle about it.”
Sam cursed and fell back against the pillow. “How long?”
“Almost since it started.” Bobby sighed. “I figured you both needed something in your lives that wasn’t all about the hunt. Figured you’d…hell, I don’t know. But it wasn’t my place.”
Sam reeled a little with the information. “Robert…he…must have seen…he…”
Bobby’s hand touched his good leg. “Maybe it’s best we let Robert be. He’s gone now. No one will ever find the body, Sam. No one need ever know. His mother died years ago.” Bobby stood, reaching for the med kit on the nightstand and holding up a syringe. “He’s not going to hurt you anymore.”
He didn’t ask if Sam wanted the drugs, just slipped the needle into his arm. “You sleep. We’re safe. Dean is in the next room. Your Daddy’s downstairs. And I promise you that no one is going to touch you like that again.”
Ellen poured coffee before sitting beside John and letting her hand slip comfortably onto his thigh. He smiled vaguely at her then turned his attention to the computer in front of him. “Is this everything?”
Gabe nodded, holding his cup of coffee close to his face. “Everything but those odd encrypted files I pulled. Gordon and a small team are headed for Aspen. The facility there is small…according to what I found it’s a place for training the trainers. My father’s gathering another team to scope out the place in Florida. They should be there tomorrow.”
John nodded, paging through the list of facilities and land and notes from Gabe and Allen. “And the prisoners we liberated?”
Caleb sat at the table with a sigh. We got the last of them into psychiatric care this morning. Scattered them throughout the area.”
“We haven’t figured out where the Gorlians are yet. We only got a partial download of the computers before I got locked out. By the time I hacked my way back in, they were wiped.” Gabe said, sipping at his coffee. “I figure it’s a matter of time though. We work our way through these facilities and we’ll flush him out.”
“This is really good work Gabe.” John said. “Your Daddy must be very proud of you.”
He nodded. “Yeah…proud enough to ground me here instead of letting me help.”
Ellen reached across to touch his hand. “You have to realize why.”
Gabe looked at her, the shared memory of what they saw together on the video surveillance in his eyes, and he nodded. “Yeah, doesn’t mean I wouldn’t rather be out there with him.”
“He knows that.” John said, pushing the computer back to him. “But I’m glad you’re here. Sam and Dean…they need reminders of when things were…normal, for them.”
Gabe smiled, but it looked forced. “Yeah…like anything in their lives was ever normal.”
John had to concede that point. His hand slithered down to his leg, to Ellen’s hand, squeezing it lightly. “I’m just saying thank you, Gabe. For everything.”
He nodded and gathered his laptop. “I know. I should go get to work decoding those other files, see if I can figure out what they are.”
Dean watched Bobby leave his brother’s room, waiting until he’d closed the door of his own room before he let himself in to Sam’s. Sam was asleep, which was okay. Dean figured Sam needed it. He needed to eat too. Dean was aware that he hadn’t since the oatmeal…and that had been days.
He remembered his first few days after…after giving in, after breaking. He hadn’t been able to eat, not until Master explained that by doing that, he was damaging Master’s property and he would have to be punished. He ate after that. Whenever food was offered, without question.
Dean stared out the window of the cabin, out at the trees that surrounded them, isolating them from the world at large. There was a part of him that felt like they were hiding. He didn’t like hiding. He’d learned that at Bobby’s house. He crossed his arms and sighed.
He wasn’t sure what to do with himself. His father hadn’t given him any instruction. Sam was asleep. Dean found himself restless. He never did like to be cooped up. He shook his head at the thought. Maybe he hadn’t liked it, but he’d adjusted to it awfully well. So much so he’d never even thought about trying to escape…even when he knew the cage was unlocked.
He hadn’t understood in those first days why that bothered Sam so much…but now maybe he did. It was a symbol. Like the collar. That he could walk into that cage voluntarily and stay there, kneel there and wait. It was evidence of his place, of his acceptance of what they had made him to be.
He sighed and opened the window for some air. The old Dean would never have waited in an unlocked cage for his brother to come and take him away. The old Dean would never hide in a junk yard while his brother was being taken away from him.
The old Dean wouldn’t be sitting in a cabin in the woods while the people who hurt them were still out there, in the world. He knew that. He could almost see that Dean in the vague reflection in the glass of the window.
Almost.
But he wasn’t that Dean. He might not ever be that Dean again. The Dean that Sam fell in love with. The one his father understood. The one the other hunters had expected him to be. Sometimes he felt like he could pretend, but it never held for long. He could see it when Gabe looked at him…that he wasn’t strong enough, right enough…he was somehow less than the man he remembered.
“Dean.”
He turned, but Sam was still asleep, his face white and sweaty. His head tossed. “Dean.” It was pleading sound, hurt, needy. Dean left the window and crawled up on the bed beside Sam, mirroring his position, face to face. Dean took his hand and drew it up to his chest.
“I’m here Sam. I’m here.”
“Penny for your thoughts.”
John turned, leaning against the railing. Ellen smiled and handed him a glass. “Scotch. Only thing Andrew had in the cupboard. I’ll go into town in the morning for supplies.”
“Trying to get me drunk?”
She laughed. “It is what I do.”
John sipped it and nodded appreciatively. “You should go home, be with Jo. Take care of business.”
“Jo’s a big girl, and she’s handling the Roadhouse. I’m taking care of business right here.” She held up her own glass.
John drank from his glass, then met her eyes. “Yeah, why is that?”
“What? Tired of me?”
“No, you know what I mean.”
She nodded and came to lean on the railing. “I spent a long time blaming you. A long time. And hearing from you again made me realize that I’d never told you.”
“Told me what?”
She sighed. “That I forgave you…that I realized it wasn’t your fault…and that you probably still blamed yourself, so I should maybe do something about that.”
“All of that, huh?” John poured the scotch down his throat, savoring the slow heat. It was comfortable, this…thing…whatever it was becoming. Part of him was frightened by just how comfortable.
“Now I figure you got bigger things you’re blaming yourself for…and maybe I should stick around and help you realize that they aren’t your fault too.”
“You going to mother me like the boys, Ellen?”
She rose up, slow, her hair lifting softly on the light breeze. “Mother you?” She shook her head with a leisurely smile. “No…I wasn’t thinking about mothering.” Her free hand settled on his chest. Her voice was sultry, and as she moved closer he let his hand settle onto her waist. She had to stand on her toes to kiss him, tender and soft, just lips brushing over lips. “I was thinking it’s been a long time…for both of us.”
He closed his eyes and breathed in the slightly floral scent of her shampoo, letting it wash over him, letting himself feel the warmth of her in his arms, the touch of her skin on his. It had been a long time. “I liked having you in my bed, John.” Ellen whispered, her nose brushing along his chin.
“I think it was my bed, Ellen,” he said with a warm chuckle. “But, yeah…it was nice.”
Her eyes opened, all dark and affectionate and wanting. “Come to bed with me?”
He set his glass on the railing and pulled her closer, one hair skimming through her hair, tilting her head as he leaned in to kiss her…really kiss her. She melted against him, welcoming his tongue into her mouth with her own.
“I can’t be him,” he said softly when they parted and she nodded.
“And I’m not her.”
She took his hand and led him inside, up the stairs to the room she had stashed her things in. As the door closed, he pulled her back to him, turning them so that she was against the door. His kiss was deep, his hands tangled in her blond hair. Her hands worked up under his shirt, rubbing over skin and up, pushing the shirt with them until he had to break the kiss to let her pull it off. Her hands found his belt before he could even close in for another kiss, and he reciprocated, shoving one large hand into her jeans as soon as he had them open.
Ellen rocked on his hand as he slid it down, cupping her as his middle finger sought her center. She gasped as it found it and slid home, her eyes rolling closed. “Shirt.” John whispered and her hands fumbled with the buttons of her shirt, getting it open after a few tries and cupping the back of his head as he bent to kiss his way over the top of her bra.
His fingers wiggled and the palm of his hand pressed insistently on her clit as she tried to focus. “Bed,” she gasped, pointing over his shoulder. He backed up, without breaking contact…and she only stumbled once as his second finger entered her. “John.”
His lips left her first, then his hand and she moaned, even as he finished removing her jeans, and made quick work of his own. He kissed his way up from her toes, pausing to lick and suckle the inside of her thigh, then parting her legs and smiling up at her.
She groaned when his tongue found her slit, licking deep and ending with a few quick laps over her clit. She squirmed and reached for his head, but he had already moved on, kissing around her navel and up.
His cock was thick and heavy, hard and it entered her in one long, smooth stroke. “Okay?” John whispered and she nodded, pulling him down to kiss her.
He started to move, slow at first, until her legs circled him, pulling him in deeper, harder. “More…John…”
“Yeah…” She arched up into each stroke, one hand snaking between them to rub her clit in time to his thrusting, brushing long fingers against his cock as it pulled out of her. He felt her start to tremble, and pressed in harder. “That’s it…come on…” he whispered in her ear. “Let me have it.”
Her head bent back, exposing her neck, which he took as an invitation to lick the concave little spot at the base of her throat and her quaking increased and the pressure from her legs got stronger as she groaned.
He pulled out to come himself, finishing over his hand. “Next time we’ll use a condom so you don’t have to do that.” Ellen said, her voice thick as she pulled at him, encouraging him to come lay with her.
“Next time?”
“Oh, I’m just getting warmed up.”
Sam woke with a start, sitting up quickly, uncertain of where he was. Dean jumped up and away and Sam shook his head. “Its okay…I was dreaming.”
A nightmare loop of his ordeal, shooting Robert, finding Dean, his father’s face as he came to understand what had happened…and sometimes it was Bobby’s face and not Robert’s that he shot…and sometimes it was Sam inside that cage, not Dean.
Dean watched him from the corner for a minute before he came back to the bed. “You said his name…over and over again.”
Sam frowned, not understanding. “Said whose name?”
Dean wouldn’t look at him. “Robert. Sometimes like he was hurting you. Sometimes…not.”
Sam nodded. “Its…a jumbled up mess…in my head. I can’t make it make sense.”
“You killed him.” Dean said. “I watched you do it.”
Sam’s stomach twisted.
“You told me to stay away. You let Dad…but you told me to stay away.”
“I didn’t want to hurt you…didn’t want him to see you.” He hadn’t been thinking clearly…he’d only known that Robert had to pay. Sam couldn’t even stand to let Dean kiss him…Dean, who he’d always wanted near him. All because of Robert. Sam breathed slowly. “I wanted to kiss you without tasting him.”
Dean nodded, but didn’t move any closer. “He was right.”
His voice was soft and Sam just looked at him for a long minute. “About what?”
“This…thing…what we do…did.” Dean glanced up at him, then away. “It’s wrong, Sam. It’s always been wrong.”
He might as well have punched Sam in the gut. “What?” Sam reached for his hand, but he pulled it away. “What?”
“It’s my fault. I’m the oldest. I should have…I should have told you no. I shouldn’t have let it happen. You were a kid.”
“No. Don’t. Dean, please, don’t do this.” Sam could just tell what was coming…Dean was going to tell him they were through. “Please. I need you.”
Dean was quiet, staring at the blanket as his hand smoothed over it. “I need you too, Sam. Doesn’t make it right.”
“Is this…did Dad-“
Dean shook his head. “No…I haven’t seen Dad since we got here. He doesn’t know what to do with me.”
“Then why? Why would you say this to me?”
He got up and moved to the window. “Because it’s true, Sam. Brothers don’t do this. Brothers don’t kiss and have sex in old junked out cars every chance they get.”
“You don’t want me anymore?”
Dean’s shoulders sagged. “Sam…it’s not that.”
He turned to look at Sam. “I…don’t know how you could want me…after everything. How you could love me, with…everything…I let them do to you.”
“You didn’t let them-“
“I sure didn’t stop them, did I?” Dean’s voice was bitter. “And they know. I can see it in their eyes. They all know.”
Sam shivered. “Know?”
“I heard Gabe talking to Caleb about the video…security cameras. They saw. Gabe and Ellen…”
Sam felt the color drain from his face. “They saw what happened to me?”
Dean nodded. He came to sit on the bed again, reaching for Sam’s hand. “I’m sorry I wasn’t a better brother.”
Sam wanted to reassure him that he was the best brother, but couldn’t find the words. His mind was stuck on the thought that Gabe and Ellen saw. It wasn’t bad enough that Caleb was there for the whole thing…His heart was pounding, and his chest was tight. He struggled to pull in enough air. They saw. They watched while he was beaten. While he submitted…letting them use his body like he was a damn toy, an object.
“Sam?” Dean had inched closer, his hands reaching for Sam’s face, but Sam pushed him away.
Sam tried to get up, to get out of bed, but Dean pulled at him and the cast held him down. “Let go. I have to get out of here. I can’t breathe. Let me go!” He yanked himself away and his t-shirt ripped, sending Dean falling backwards while Sam lurched up and onto his good leg. The room was spinning, and he stumbled a few steps before he landed on the floor, scrambling away from Dean as he tried to help him.
“No! Let go!” He couldn’t open his eyes as the sensation swept over him, hands and cocks and laughter, and he swatted at them, flailing around on the floor, yelling hysterically. Then something was pressing down on him and Dean’s face swam near his…his father’s voice rumbled over him…and he dimly recognized the feeling of a sedative fingering his nervous system…until it found just the right chord and he slumped into unconsciousness.