Working On It, Supernatural, NC-17, Broken!Verse
Fandom: Supernatural
Title: Working on It
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean, John, Ellen, Bobby, OMC
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3414
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, Reconciliation, Waking Up, and Guilt.
Summary: Ellen puts John in his place, Sam makes Dean understand, and in turn, Dean helps John begin to understand...in short, everyone is working on getting better...
A/Ns and Warnings: Very dark. Includes memory of torture and rape and very dark violence.
“You think they’re tall enough?” Caleb asked, after he’d adjusted the old wooden crutches he’d found in the shed to their highest level.
“They’ll have be, won’t they?” Ellen said as she finished clearing the table of the lunch dishes. “There wasn’t anything in town.”
Bobby nodded. “They look good. Maybe you should take them up to Sam, John. See if that cheers him up.”
John stirred from his spot in the corner, his eyes red rimmed. “Cheers him up?” His voice was bitter, but he stood and took the crutches from Caleb. “You should have told me.”
“It wasn’t my place, and you know it.” Caleb responded. “I thought you’d understand when I said that they’d done unspeakable things.”
“Oh for heaven’s sake, is that what your moping is about?” Ellen asked, turning around. “John Winchester you had better get your act together and your head out of your ass.”
“You aren’t any better. You knew too.”
“Yeah I did. And so did any body else who was fucking paying attention.” Ellen said, hands on her hips. “Hell, John, even Dean knew. Why the hell do you think he went running in there to save him?”
John glowered down at her, but she didn’t back off. “Your boys have been through hell. They’re torn up and feeling alone and you’re so busy with how it makes you feel that you’ve forgotten one important thing here, John.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“Of the three of you damn Winchester men, you’re the only one who hasn’t been fucked by strange men while being told that you are nothing.”
The room was silent.
No one moved, until Gabe looked up bleary eyed from his laptop. “Um…guys…I think…I think I found them.”
Sam sipped at the soup slowly. He really wasn’t hungry, despite how long it had been since he’d eaten…but Dean would stay as long as he was eating. So Sam ate slowly. Swallowing slowly and pausing between spoonfuls because his stomach really wasn’t happy with the intrusion.
But keeping him there was only part of the battle. Sam needed to reach him, make him understand. He wanted to feel Dean’s hand on his. Sam’s eyes darted up to Dean’s. He was still watching, staring.
There were raised voices and Dean got up to open the door, then came back, looking a little agitated. “They’re arguing about me.” Sam said into the silence. “About what to do with me.”
Dean shook his head. “No. Ellen’s telling Dad he’s an ass.”
Sam smirked and forced another spoonful of soup into his mouth. Then Dean cocked his head. “Why would they be arguing about what to do with you?”
Sam set the soup down on the nightstand and shifted his position on the pillows. “I-I told Dad the truth, Dean.”
Dean leaned in closer. “What truth?”
“About you and me…how it wasn’t your fault, isn’t your fault. I told him I started it. That I wanted you…that I still want you.”
“Sam.” Dean’s voice was a growl as he stood up and paced away.
“I told him that I loved you…that I need you.” Dean’s back was to him and Sam felt frustration building. “Look at me, please Dean?”
Dean twitched, glancing over his shoulder before turning around. “I…I don’t know how to do this if you aren’t here with me.” Sam said softly. “I can function, pretend, deal with it all…if you’re with me, Dean. I look at you and know I can…but when you left me alone…when I think that you might not ever want me…I’d rather die.”
Dean’s eyes closed. “Sam…please don’t say that.”
“It would be easier…then you and Dad could…you know…move on.” Sam hadn’t meant to go there, to take it to that level, but he knew too it was true. A part of him really would welcome a heavy shot of something cold that leeched into his body and dragged him down into the dark.
“Sam.” Dean had come closer. “Please.”
Sam shook his head, wiping away the tears. “No…I can’t…not alone…”
“You aren’t alone.”
“I will be. Dad couldn’t even stand to be in the same room with me after I told him. You…you won’t even look at me, except to make sure I’m eating. The only one here even trying to help me is Bobby…and how long do you think it’ll be before he remembers that I killed his goddamn son?”
Sam was shaking now, and Dean was right there, next to the bed. His hand was on Sam’s head, his fingers raking through his hair, pulling him against his body. “Sam…please…calm down. Please.”
“Don’t leave me Dean…I love you. I need you. Please don’t leave me.”
“Shh…it’s okay Sammy, it’s okay. I’m not going anywhere, okay? Please. Settle down before you make yourself sick.”
Sam didn’t calm down and didn’t stop the endless litany of don’t leave me-please-love you-need you until Dean slid down onto the bed, awkwardly moving so that he could pull Sam closer, almost into his lap.
Dean kissed the top of his head, running hands down his arms until Sam’s voice tapered off. “I don’t know how to help you, Sammy.” Dean whispered across his hair, though he thought Sam might have gone to sleep. “I’m here…I’m here…but I don’t know what’s right…don’t know how to take care of you…don’t know how to make it okay again.”
He held Sam to him, his eyes closed. “I want you so much it hurts. Couldn’t breathe when they took you away.”
“What do you mean?” John said, turning to Gabe.
The younger man was practically vibrating in his seat. He gestured at the computer. “The encrypted files. I’m in. I got in.”
“And?”
“And…it’s here…not everything…but its aliases and financial holdings…the Gorlians aren’t even the Gorlians. There’s half a dozen names here, for each of them. They probably aren’t even brothers.”
Gabe yawned, despite his excitement, and reached for his coffee, which Ellen promptly took away from him. “You broke the files, now you go to bed.”
“But I-“
Ellen shook her head. “I’ll call your Daddy if I have to.”
Gabe rolled his eyes. “I won’t sleep. It’s easier if I-“
“We can fix the sleeping problem.” Ellen said quietly, meeting his gaze and holding it. He held out for a minute, before his shoulders sagged.
“Fine.”
“Fine.” Ellen echoed. “Caleb? Why don’t you see young Gabe here gets a good dose of something to help him sleep? I don’t want to see him before tomorrow morning.”
When Caleb and Gabe were gone, Ellen turned to John. “You too.”
“I don’t need to sleep.” John said, sliding into Gabe’s vacant seat.
“No, but you do have other needs.” She took the computer away from him. “Or rather, your boys do.”
“Ellen.” John’s voice was dark, dangerous, but Ellen didn’t back down.
“Take the crutches to Sam. Talk to your boys. Better yet, listen to them. Be with them. And stop being such an ass.”
John looked up at her, then at Bobby who’d been quiet through the whole exchange. “Go on, John. Ellen and I will go through whatever Gabe found.”
Dean managed to get them shifted around so that he was stretched out next to Sam, with Sam still gathered in his arms, his head on Dean’s chest. Sam was mostly asleep, still murmuring from time to time. Dean kept his hands to the safe places, but he was so bruised, in so many places. He wondered if his beatings had been as brutal…probably, they were just a lifetime ago…he didn’t remember.
He pressed kisses into Sam’s forehead and felt him shift a little deeper in his sleep. Sam’s words had echoed inside him, awakening that ache from early on in his captivity, that fear he really was what they wanted him to believe he was, that he was unwanted, unloved, given away. Nothing. No one. Alone.
He’d woke up screaming for Sam more nights than he could count. Always Sam. Only Sam. He’d held on through the brutality because he had held to the idea of Sam. And it had been that idea, it had been Sam that had broken through it all.
The door opened and Dean looked up, raising a finger to his lips when his father came in, carrying crutches. John nodded and set the crutches in a corner, before pulling a chair around to Dean’s side of the bed. “Is he okay?” John asked softly.
Dean sighed. “I don’t know. He was pretty worked up.” His voice was barely above a whisper.
“I wasn’t exactly my most supportive when I saw him last.” John admitted, leaning over to look at the bruising around Sam’s nose and eyes.
“Yeah, I heard.”
“This is hard for me, Dean. I’m trying.”
“I know. But of all of us Dad? This is hardest for him.”
John looked at him with an odd expression and Dean shook his head. “I know I told you that they have a…schedule…a plan for how they do this thing, how they break us. I didn’t count on it being personal…I didn’t count on them changing it.” He brushed a finger over Sam’s hand where it lay on his stomach. “It took them months to push me hard enough to crack. It was plenty bad for me…don’t get me wrong.” His eyes met his father’s…holding them to make sure he understood. They couldn’t keep doing this. It was time to stop protecting him.
“Sam endured those months all crammed into those few days…and it was worse then that…” Dean closed his eyes and shook his head. “Master made him responsible for Caleb, you know? To break him that much faster. They punished Caleb for every time Sam defied them. He had to…let them touch him, or Caleb would get hit. Made him repeat the words…then, it wasn’t enough to let them do it, he had to…respond.”
John stirred. “Maybe we should talk about this in my room, let him sleep?”
Dean shook his head. “No. I’m not leaving him alone.”
“We’d only be down the hall.”
Dean sighed. “You don’t understand.”
John’s hand closed on his. “I’m trying to Dean. I want to.”
“The first rule.” Dean breathed. “Nothing, no one, alone. They drill it into you. Right from the start. They tell you every time they touch you. They pipe it into the cage day and night…make you repeat it. Over and over.”
“Until you can’t help but believe it.” John said, some understanding dawning in his eyes.
Dean nodded, the hand behind Sam’s head playing through his hair. “Alone is the easiest one to fix. I can be here, so he isn’t alone.” He kissed Sam’s head again, leaning against him.
His father’s hand squeezed his and when he looked up there were tears in his eyes. “Would it be okay with you, if I stayed too?”
Dean nodded slowly. “I think he’d like that.”
Caleb found himself sitting by the window in Gabe’s room, listening to the younger boy rattle on about some technology that he was hoping to adapt to the hunt while they waited for the pill to kick in. When it suddenly got quiet, he thought it had, but turned to find Gabe sitting up, staring at the wall, his face pale. “Gabe?”
“What do I do, Caleb?”
Caleb stood up and crossed the room. “About what, Gabe?”
He turned frightened blue eyes to Caleb. “How do you see…what I saw and ever trust anyone ever? How can I look Sam in the eye ever again?”
“I don’t know, Gabe.” Caleb ran a hand over his face. “What you saw was pretty terrible…”
“It could have been me.” Gabe said, stifling a yawn. “I mean…that’s why my father wants me here, right? I’m the right age…I’m the kind of person…”
Caleb offered him a brief smile. “You know you’re safe here, right?”
Gabe was too far gone on the drug to take offense and just nodded. “Good. Sleep. In the morning, you can help us figure out what comes next with all that information you found.”
There was something comforting about the way Sam was half draped over him, and his father’s hand covered his…something warm and familiar. Dean drifted on the feeling as the afternoon shadows stretched across the room. Sam tensed against him, his hand fisting in the blanket. He whimpered, then cringed, pulling away from Dean.
He reached for Sam, pulling his hand free of his father’s and startling him from his sleep. His hands closed over Sam’s face, holding him so he wouldn’t throw himself from the bed and hurt the leg. “Sam? Come on Sammy. Wake up.”
Sam’s eyes blinked open, staring wildly at Dean as he tried to focus. “Dean?”
“Yeah, baby, I’m right here.”
“You…left me…you…I dreamed…” He swallowed and took a deep breath. “I dreamed you took me…left me there…gave me to him…”
Dean kissed away the tears on his cheeks. “Never. You’re mine, Sammy. Mine.”
Behind him John got up, moving away, over to the window. Sam’s eyes tracked him, but Dean pulled Sam’s face back to his. “Mine, right Sammy?”
Sam was still breathing heavily, his eyes flashing to John and back again, but he nodded. “If you still want me, Dean. After everything…after…” He dropped his eyes, but Dean’s finger caught on his chin, bringing his face up.
“Always.” His kiss was chaste, soft, lips brushing lightly over lips.
John cleared his throat and Sam ducked his head, pressing his face to Dean’s shoulder. “Dad?” Dean watched John stiffen, then exhale visibly before he turned.
John nodded and came to the end of the bed. “Yeah, I’m right here, Dean.”
“See Sam? We’re all here. Together.”
Sam nodded but didn’t lift his head.
“Dad brought you some crutches. We could get you up...maybe outside?”
“Bobby’s cooking dinner. You could come downstairs.”
Sam stiffened a little and pulled away from Dean. “Maybe the three of us could have dinner alone…on the porch.” John said slowly.
Sam mumbled something John couldn’t hear and Dean nodded. “Yeah, okay. Dad, can you get the pair of sweats Ellen brought up earlier? She cut out the leg for the cast.” Dean pointed with his chin, his hands still occupied with Sam. “He needs to go to the bathroom.”
Sam didn’t fight as John held the pants for him to get into and pulled them up over Sam’s boxer’s. Then John brought him the crutches. “It’s been a while, do you remember?”
Sam nodded and let John help him up, settling the crutches under his arms. “Little short.”
“Only cause you’re a sasquatch.” Dean said, getting up behind him.
“I can do it myself.” Sam growled.
“No one’s saying you can’t.” John said, stepping away.
“We’ll be here when you’re done, okay Sam?” Dean sighed heavily once Sam was gone, watching his father watch Sam. “He okay?”
John nodded, looking back at Dean when the door closed across the hall. “Dean-“
He held up his hand. “I’m not leaving him.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
Dean smiled and nodded. “You were about to. It makes you uncomfortable. It makes me…” He sighed. How could he quantify it? When just that afternoon he’d been ready and willing to actually do it, leave Sam. Never touch him again. “I’m not leaving him.”
The bathroom door opened and Sam emerged, moving slowly on the crutches. Sam looked surly as he paused in the hall. “You hungry?” John asked as he left the room.
“Not really.” Sam answered.
“Sam.” Dean raised an eyebrow and Sam rolled his eyes.
“Yeah…okay.” Sam muttered. “You guys go ahead. I’ll be slow.”
John went down first, clearing the path out to the porch before disappearing into the kitchen. He kissed Ellen on the cheek and started pulling plates out of the cupboard. Bobby came in the back door with burgers on a plate, fresh from the grill.
“The boys and I are going to have dinner on the porch.” John said, not looking up as he prepared plates.
“You okay, John?” Ellen asked, running a hand down his back.
“I believe you told me it wasn’t about me.” John responded. He stopped when she pulled away and shook his head. “I’m sorry. We’re…working on it.”
“You’re a good influence on him.” Bobby said, watching through a window with Ellen as John sat with Sam and Dean.
“I just nudge.” Ellen said with a smile.
“Yeah, okay. Nudge Caleb next?”
She turned to squint at him. “Yeah?”
“He’s…wound tight…for Caleb.”
“I was more worried about you.”
“Me?” Bobby shook his head, turning back to doing the dishes. “I’m okay.”
“No. You aren’t. But that’s okay. No one expects you to be.”
They were quiet for a minute. “We all grieve our own way, Bobby. And that’s okay. Just so long as we grieve.” Ellen said softly, touching his shoulder. “Remember that.”
Sam toyed with the food on his plate, picking at it just enough to keep Dean from getting upset. Things had been quiet, but the night air was nice. “You’re not eating.” Dean whispered and Sam forced a smile.
“I’m…working on it.” He picked up a potato chip as if to emphasize and put it in his mouth. “What?” he asked his father who looked like he had a question.
He shook his head. “I…you used to inhale food. I would think you’d be starving…after…everything.”
Sam shrugged. “Just not hungry.”
Dean’s hand settled over his and they both looked at it, then up at their father, and pulled apart. “It’s a defensive reaction.” Dean said after a few minutes. “Comes after they starve you. Then they give you disgusting food and force you to eat. Sam didn’t quite get to that, but…the defense is the same.”
“Dean.” Sam’s voice was shaky. “I’m just not hungry.”
“I know.” Dean sighed and sat back in his seat. “Dad has to know, everything. No more secrets.”
Sam looked at his brother like he was crazy. “No. He doesn’t.”
“I am still sitting right here.” John said, brushing crumbs from his hands.
“Sam...”
“Dean.”
“Boys.” John stood, reaching for plates. “Enough. It’s been a long day. I think maybe we should all get some sleep before we do anymore sharing.”
Dean reached out for Sam’s plate and put it in front of him again. “He’s not done.”
“Yes, I am.” Sam countered.
“You need to eat.”
Sam sighed. “I know.”
“We’ll be in soon.” Dean said to their father who was wavering. Finally, John nodded and walked away. “Just a few bites. For me.”
Sam nodded and reached for his burger, picking off the bun and cheese to nibble on the meat. “’S cold.” He sounded like a petulant child.
Dean chuckled. “Cause you spent all this time pretending to eat.”
“You can go inside, you know? I’ll be fine.”
Dean shook his head and took Sam’s hand. “No. Not leaving you alone.” He lifted the hand and softly kissed the tips of each finger. “Not leaving you.” He turned the hand over and kissed the palm gently. He rubbed his hand over the calloused skin, then set something on it. “Yours. Always, from that day you kissed me for the first time, Sammy…”
He pulled his hand away and Sam stared at the ring. “Dean?”
“Dad gave it to me…when I was lost and couldn’t figure out where I belonged. It told me I belonged to him. And I do. But I belong to you too…and you seem so lost. I thought that maybe…if you wore it, it would remind you that you’re mine…and I’m yours.”
Sam’s finger turned the ring so that the “W” was facing him. “Always.” Sam whispered, blinking back tears.
“Always.” Dean echoed.
“Put it on for me?” Sam asked almost breathlessly and Dean lifted the ring, settling it onto Sam’s ring finger.
“Your hands are so big.” Dean said with a grin. His kiss was tender, across Sam’s lips as he stood, but before he could pull away, one of those big hands was catching him on the shoulder, pulling him back. Sam’s lips parted, inviting Dean’s tongue to dance and after only the slightest hesitation, Dean let it slip across their lips.
“’M tired.” Sam murmured as they separated and Dean nodded.
“Let’s get you back to bed, Sasquatch.”
Dean helped him up and onto his crutches. “But tomorrow you’re eating three meals, even if I have to sit on you.”
Title: Working on It
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean, John, Ellen, Bobby, OMC
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3414
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, Reconciliation, Waking Up, and Guilt.
Summary: Ellen puts John in his place, Sam makes Dean understand, and in turn, Dean helps John begin to understand...in short, everyone is working on getting better...
A/Ns and Warnings: Very dark. Includes memory of torture and rape and very dark violence.
“You think they’re tall enough?” Caleb asked, after he’d adjusted the old wooden crutches he’d found in the shed to their highest level.
“They’ll have be, won’t they?” Ellen said as she finished clearing the table of the lunch dishes. “There wasn’t anything in town.”
Bobby nodded. “They look good. Maybe you should take them up to Sam, John. See if that cheers him up.”
John stirred from his spot in the corner, his eyes red rimmed. “Cheers him up?” His voice was bitter, but he stood and took the crutches from Caleb. “You should have told me.”
“It wasn’t my place, and you know it.” Caleb responded. “I thought you’d understand when I said that they’d done unspeakable things.”
“Oh for heaven’s sake, is that what your moping is about?” Ellen asked, turning around. “John Winchester you had better get your act together and your head out of your ass.”
“You aren’t any better. You knew too.”
“Yeah I did. And so did any body else who was fucking paying attention.” Ellen said, hands on her hips. “Hell, John, even Dean knew. Why the hell do you think he went running in there to save him?”
John glowered down at her, but she didn’t back off. “Your boys have been through hell. They’re torn up and feeling alone and you’re so busy with how it makes you feel that you’ve forgotten one important thing here, John.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“Of the three of you damn Winchester men, you’re the only one who hasn’t been fucked by strange men while being told that you are nothing.”
The room was silent.
No one moved, until Gabe looked up bleary eyed from his laptop. “Um…guys…I think…I think I found them.”
Sam sipped at the soup slowly. He really wasn’t hungry, despite how long it had been since he’d eaten…but Dean would stay as long as he was eating. So Sam ate slowly. Swallowing slowly and pausing between spoonfuls because his stomach really wasn’t happy with the intrusion.
But keeping him there was only part of the battle. Sam needed to reach him, make him understand. He wanted to feel Dean’s hand on his. Sam’s eyes darted up to Dean’s. He was still watching, staring.
There were raised voices and Dean got up to open the door, then came back, looking a little agitated. “They’re arguing about me.” Sam said into the silence. “About what to do with me.”
Dean shook his head. “No. Ellen’s telling Dad he’s an ass.”
Sam smirked and forced another spoonful of soup into his mouth. Then Dean cocked his head. “Why would they be arguing about what to do with you?”
Sam set the soup down on the nightstand and shifted his position on the pillows. “I-I told Dad the truth, Dean.”
Dean leaned in closer. “What truth?”
“About you and me…how it wasn’t your fault, isn’t your fault. I told him I started it. That I wanted you…that I still want you.”
“Sam.” Dean’s voice was a growl as he stood up and paced away.
“I told him that I loved you…that I need you.” Dean’s back was to him and Sam felt frustration building. “Look at me, please Dean?”
Dean twitched, glancing over his shoulder before turning around. “I…I don’t know how to do this if you aren’t here with me.” Sam said softly. “I can function, pretend, deal with it all…if you’re with me, Dean. I look at you and know I can…but when you left me alone…when I think that you might not ever want me…I’d rather die.”
Dean’s eyes closed. “Sam…please don’t say that.”
“It would be easier…then you and Dad could…you know…move on.” Sam hadn’t meant to go there, to take it to that level, but he knew too it was true. A part of him really would welcome a heavy shot of something cold that leeched into his body and dragged him down into the dark.
“Sam.” Dean had come closer. “Please.”
Sam shook his head, wiping away the tears. “No…I can’t…not alone…”
“You aren’t alone.”
“I will be. Dad couldn’t even stand to be in the same room with me after I told him. You…you won’t even look at me, except to make sure I’m eating. The only one here even trying to help me is Bobby…and how long do you think it’ll be before he remembers that I killed his goddamn son?”
Sam was shaking now, and Dean was right there, next to the bed. His hand was on Sam’s head, his fingers raking through his hair, pulling him against his body. “Sam…please…calm down. Please.”
“Don’t leave me Dean…I love you. I need you. Please don’t leave me.”
“Shh…it’s okay Sammy, it’s okay. I’m not going anywhere, okay? Please. Settle down before you make yourself sick.”
Sam didn’t calm down and didn’t stop the endless litany of don’t leave me-please-love you-need you until Dean slid down onto the bed, awkwardly moving so that he could pull Sam closer, almost into his lap.
Dean kissed the top of his head, running hands down his arms until Sam’s voice tapered off. “I don’t know how to help you, Sammy.” Dean whispered across his hair, though he thought Sam might have gone to sleep. “I’m here…I’m here…but I don’t know what’s right…don’t know how to take care of you…don’t know how to make it okay again.”
He held Sam to him, his eyes closed. “I want you so much it hurts. Couldn’t breathe when they took you away.”
“What do you mean?” John said, turning to Gabe.
The younger man was practically vibrating in his seat. He gestured at the computer. “The encrypted files. I’m in. I got in.”
“And?”
“And…it’s here…not everything…but its aliases and financial holdings…the Gorlians aren’t even the Gorlians. There’s half a dozen names here, for each of them. They probably aren’t even brothers.”
Gabe yawned, despite his excitement, and reached for his coffee, which Ellen promptly took away from him. “You broke the files, now you go to bed.”
“But I-“
Ellen shook her head. “I’ll call your Daddy if I have to.”
Gabe rolled his eyes. “I won’t sleep. It’s easier if I-“
“We can fix the sleeping problem.” Ellen said quietly, meeting his gaze and holding it. He held out for a minute, before his shoulders sagged.
“Fine.”
“Fine.” Ellen echoed. “Caleb? Why don’t you see young Gabe here gets a good dose of something to help him sleep? I don’t want to see him before tomorrow morning.”
When Caleb and Gabe were gone, Ellen turned to John. “You too.”
“I don’t need to sleep.” John said, sliding into Gabe’s vacant seat.
“No, but you do have other needs.” She took the computer away from him. “Or rather, your boys do.”
“Ellen.” John’s voice was dark, dangerous, but Ellen didn’t back down.
“Take the crutches to Sam. Talk to your boys. Better yet, listen to them. Be with them. And stop being such an ass.”
John looked up at her, then at Bobby who’d been quiet through the whole exchange. “Go on, John. Ellen and I will go through whatever Gabe found.”
Dean managed to get them shifted around so that he was stretched out next to Sam, with Sam still gathered in his arms, his head on Dean’s chest. Sam was mostly asleep, still murmuring from time to time. Dean kept his hands to the safe places, but he was so bruised, in so many places. He wondered if his beatings had been as brutal…probably, they were just a lifetime ago…he didn’t remember.
He pressed kisses into Sam’s forehead and felt him shift a little deeper in his sleep. Sam’s words had echoed inside him, awakening that ache from early on in his captivity, that fear he really was what they wanted him to believe he was, that he was unwanted, unloved, given away. Nothing. No one. Alone.
He’d woke up screaming for Sam more nights than he could count. Always Sam. Only Sam. He’d held on through the brutality because he had held to the idea of Sam. And it had been that idea, it had been Sam that had broken through it all.
The door opened and Dean looked up, raising a finger to his lips when his father came in, carrying crutches. John nodded and set the crutches in a corner, before pulling a chair around to Dean’s side of the bed. “Is he okay?” John asked softly.
Dean sighed. “I don’t know. He was pretty worked up.” His voice was barely above a whisper.
“I wasn’t exactly my most supportive when I saw him last.” John admitted, leaning over to look at the bruising around Sam’s nose and eyes.
“Yeah, I heard.”
“This is hard for me, Dean. I’m trying.”
“I know. But of all of us Dad? This is hardest for him.”
John looked at him with an odd expression and Dean shook his head. “I know I told you that they have a…schedule…a plan for how they do this thing, how they break us. I didn’t count on it being personal…I didn’t count on them changing it.” He brushed a finger over Sam’s hand where it lay on his stomach. “It took them months to push me hard enough to crack. It was plenty bad for me…don’t get me wrong.” His eyes met his father’s…holding them to make sure he understood. They couldn’t keep doing this. It was time to stop protecting him.
“Sam endured those months all crammed into those few days…and it was worse then that…” Dean closed his eyes and shook his head. “Master made him responsible for Caleb, you know? To break him that much faster. They punished Caleb for every time Sam defied them. He had to…let them touch him, or Caleb would get hit. Made him repeat the words…then, it wasn’t enough to let them do it, he had to…respond.”
John stirred. “Maybe we should talk about this in my room, let him sleep?”
Dean shook his head. “No. I’m not leaving him alone.”
“We’d only be down the hall.”
Dean sighed. “You don’t understand.”
John’s hand closed on his. “I’m trying to Dean. I want to.”
“The first rule.” Dean breathed. “Nothing, no one, alone. They drill it into you. Right from the start. They tell you every time they touch you. They pipe it into the cage day and night…make you repeat it. Over and over.”
“Until you can’t help but believe it.” John said, some understanding dawning in his eyes.
Dean nodded, the hand behind Sam’s head playing through his hair. “Alone is the easiest one to fix. I can be here, so he isn’t alone.” He kissed Sam’s head again, leaning against him.
His father’s hand squeezed his and when he looked up there were tears in his eyes. “Would it be okay with you, if I stayed too?”
Dean nodded slowly. “I think he’d like that.”
Caleb found himself sitting by the window in Gabe’s room, listening to the younger boy rattle on about some technology that he was hoping to adapt to the hunt while they waited for the pill to kick in. When it suddenly got quiet, he thought it had, but turned to find Gabe sitting up, staring at the wall, his face pale. “Gabe?”
“What do I do, Caleb?”
Caleb stood up and crossed the room. “About what, Gabe?”
He turned frightened blue eyes to Caleb. “How do you see…what I saw and ever trust anyone ever? How can I look Sam in the eye ever again?”
“I don’t know, Gabe.” Caleb ran a hand over his face. “What you saw was pretty terrible…”
“It could have been me.” Gabe said, stifling a yawn. “I mean…that’s why my father wants me here, right? I’m the right age…I’m the kind of person…”
Caleb offered him a brief smile. “You know you’re safe here, right?”
Gabe was too far gone on the drug to take offense and just nodded. “Good. Sleep. In the morning, you can help us figure out what comes next with all that information you found.”
There was something comforting about the way Sam was half draped over him, and his father’s hand covered his…something warm and familiar. Dean drifted on the feeling as the afternoon shadows stretched across the room. Sam tensed against him, his hand fisting in the blanket. He whimpered, then cringed, pulling away from Dean.
He reached for Sam, pulling his hand free of his father’s and startling him from his sleep. His hands closed over Sam’s face, holding him so he wouldn’t throw himself from the bed and hurt the leg. “Sam? Come on Sammy. Wake up.”
Sam’s eyes blinked open, staring wildly at Dean as he tried to focus. “Dean?”
“Yeah, baby, I’m right here.”
“You…left me…you…I dreamed…” He swallowed and took a deep breath. “I dreamed you took me…left me there…gave me to him…”
Dean kissed away the tears on his cheeks. “Never. You’re mine, Sammy. Mine.”
Behind him John got up, moving away, over to the window. Sam’s eyes tracked him, but Dean pulled Sam’s face back to his. “Mine, right Sammy?”
Sam was still breathing heavily, his eyes flashing to John and back again, but he nodded. “If you still want me, Dean. After everything…after…” He dropped his eyes, but Dean’s finger caught on his chin, bringing his face up.
“Always.” His kiss was chaste, soft, lips brushing lightly over lips.
John cleared his throat and Sam ducked his head, pressing his face to Dean’s shoulder. “Dad?” Dean watched John stiffen, then exhale visibly before he turned.
John nodded and came to the end of the bed. “Yeah, I’m right here, Dean.”
“See Sam? We’re all here. Together.”
Sam nodded but didn’t lift his head.
“Dad brought you some crutches. We could get you up...maybe outside?”
“Bobby’s cooking dinner. You could come downstairs.”
Sam stiffened a little and pulled away from Dean. “Maybe the three of us could have dinner alone…on the porch.” John said slowly.
Sam mumbled something John couldn’t hear and Dean nodded. “Yeah, okay. Dad, can you get the pair of sweats Ellen brought up earlier? She cut out the leg for the cast.” Dean pointed with his chin, his hands still occupied with Sam. “He needs to go to the bathroom.”
Sam didn’t fight as John held the pants for him to get into and pulled them up over Sam’s boxer’s. Then John brought him the crutches. “It’s been a while, do you remember?”
Sam nodded and let John help him up, settling the crutches under his arms. “Little short.”
“Only cause you’re a sasquatch.” Dean said, getting up behind him.
“I can do it myself.” Sam growled.
“No one’s saying you can’t.” John said, stepping away.
“We’ll be here when you’re done, okay Sam?” Dean sighed heavily once Sam was gone, watching his father watch Sam. “He okay?”
John nodded, looking back at Dean when the door closed across the hall. “Dean-“
He held up his hand. “I’m not leaving him.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
Dean smiled and nodded. “You were about to. It makes you uncomfortable. It makes me…” He sighed. How could he quantify it? When just that afternoon he’d been ready and willing to actually do it, leave Sam. Never touch him again. “I’m not leaving him.”
The bathroom door opened and Sam emerged, moving slowly on the crutches. Sam looked surly as he paused in the hall. “You hungry?” John asked as he left the room.
“Not really.” Sam answered.
“Sam.” Dean raised an eyebrow and Sam rolled his eyes.
“Yeah…okay.” Sam muttered. “You guys go ahead. I’ll be slow.”
John went down first, clearing the path out to the porch before disappearing into the kitchen. He kissed Ellen on the cheek and started pulling plates out of the cupboard. Bobby came in the back door with burgers on a plate, fresh from the grill.
“The boys and I are going to have dinner on the porch.” John said, not looking up as he prepared plates.
“You okay, John?” Ellen asked, running a hand down his back.
“I believe you told me it wasn’t about me.” John responded. He stopped when she pulled away and shook his head. “I’m sorry. We’re…working on it.”
“You’re a good influence on him.” Bobby said, watching through a window with Ellen as John sat with Sam and Dean.
“I just nudge.” Ellen said with a smile.
“Yeah, okay. Nudge Caleb next?”
She turned to squint at him. “Yeah?”
“He’s…wound tight…for Caleb.”
“I was more worried about you.”
“Me?” Bobby shook his head, turning back to doing the dishes. “I’m okay.”
“No. You aren’t. But that’s okay. No one expects you to be.”
They were quiet for a minute. “We all grieve our own way, Bobby. And that’s okay. Just so long as we grieve.” Ellen said softly, touching his shoulder. “Remember that.”
Sam toyed with the food on his plate, picking at it just enough to keep Dean from getting upset. Things had been quiet, but the night air was nice. “You’re not eating.” Dean whispered and Sam forced a smile.
“I’m…working on it.” He picked up a potato chip as if to emphasize and put it in his mouth. “What?” he asked his father who looked like he had a question.
He shook his head. “I…you used to inhale food. I would think you’d be starving…after…everything.”
Sam shrugged. “Just not hungry.”
Dean’s hand settled over his and they both looked at it, then up at their father, and pulled apart. “It’s a defensive reaction.” Dean said after a few minutes. “Comes after they starve you. Then they give you disgusting food and force you to eat. Sam didn’t quite get to that, but…the defense is the same.”
“Dean.” Sam’s voice was shaky. “I’m just not hungry.”
“I know.” Dean sighed and sat back in his seat. “Dad has to know, everything. No more secrets.”
Sam looked at his brother like he was crazy. “No. He doesn’t.”
“I am still sitting right here.” John said, brushing crumbs from his hands.
“Sam...”
“Dean.”
“Boys.” John stood, reaching for plates. “Enough. It’s been a long day. I think maybe we should all get some sleep before we do anymore sharing.”
Dean reached out for Sam’s plate and put it in front of him again. “He’s not done.”
“Yes, I am.” Sam countered.
“You need to eat.”
Sam sighed. “I know.”
“We’ll be in soon.” Dean said to their father who was wavering. Finally, John nodded and walked away. “Just a few bites. For me.”
Sam nodded and reached for his burger, picking off the bun and cheese to nibble on the meat. “’S cold.” He sounded like a petulant child.
Dean chuckled. “Cause you spent all this time pretending to eat.”
“You can go inside, you know? I’ll be fine.”
Dean shook his head and took Sam’s hand. “No. Not leaving you alone.” He lifted the hand and softly kissed the tips of each finger. “Not leaving you.” He turned the hand over and kissed the palm gently. He rubbed his hand over the calloused skin, then set something on it. “Yours. Always, from that day you kissed me for the first time, Sammy…”
He pulled his hand away and Sam stared at the ring. “Dean?”
“Dad gave it to me…when I was lost and couldn’t figure out where I belonged. It told me I belonged to him. And I do. But I belong to you too…and you seem so lost. I thought that maybe…if you wore it, it would remind you that you’re mine…and I’m yours.”
Sam’s finger turned the ring so that the “W” was facing him. “Always.” Sam whispered, blinking back tears.
“Always.” Dean echoed.
“Put it on for me?” Sam asked almost breathlessly and Dean lifted the ring, settling it onto Sam’s ring finger.
“Your hands are so big.” Dean said with a grin. His kiss was tender, across Sam’s lips as he stood, but before he could pull away, one of those big hands was catching him on the shoulder, pulling him back. Sam’s lips parted, inviting Dean’s tongue to dance and after only the slightest hesitation, Dean let it slip across their lips.
“’M tired.” Sam murmured as they separated and Dean nodded.
“Let’s get you back to bed, Sasquatch.”
Dean helped him up and onto his crutches. “But tomorrow you’re eating three meals, even if I have to sit on you.”