Fallout, Supernatural, NC-17, Broken!Verse
Fandom: Supernatural
Title: Fallout
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean, John, Ellen, Bobby, Caleb, Pastor Jim, OMC, OFC
Rating: NC-17 (for thematic reasons)
Word Count: 3742
Summary: Broken!Verse, chapter 40 ( Click here for Index of all chapters)
Summary: Sam and Jim continue their conversation, Gabe starts to realize what he's done, Jim makes a confession to John, and there is an abundance of showering going on.
A/Ns and Warnings: Very dark. Includes memory of torture and rape and very dark violence.
Sam sat back and didn’t look at Pastor Jim. “What else did Dean say?”
Jim pulled his hand back and went back to cradling his coffee. “He said he might have hurt you and that I needed to get you to talk.”
“He…didn’t hurt me.” Sam said breathlessly. “Not…physically.”
“I think you’ve had enough psychology classes to know that not all pain is physical Sam.”
“Yeah…I get it, I know…I do…I just…I’m okay…I have to be okay.”
“Why?”
“What?” Sam looked up, startled by the question.
“Why do you have to be okay? If you’re not, I mean. Why pretend?”
Sam groaned. “Dean…he’s…it was so much more for him…he said it himself…I was only there for four days.” Four days and he folded. “And seeing it…what they did to him…how long he fought…I have to be okay for him.”
“Well, if he’s pretending to be okay for you and you're pretending to be okay for him, how do you think either one of you will ever get through this?”
Sam shook his head.
“So, why don’t you tell me what Dean did? How did he hurt you?”
Sam felt himself flushing. He hid behind the coffee cup, drinking instead of answering. He couldn’t tell Pastor Jim that. Couldn’t tell him that Dean fucking him had brought back the rape…and given him nightmares.
“Did he touch you, Sam?”
“God. Fuck. I can’t…” He exhaled sharply. “No. I mean, yes, he touched me.” Sam froze. He didn’t just say that.
“How did he touch you?”
“He…it was…nothing…I’d just…” He couldn’t think clearly, his mind stuck on the whispers of Dean’s voice, the touch of his hand, urgent to make Sam know he loved him. “Too much…the DVDs…and…his…trying…” He couldn’t quite cut off the sob and turned away, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Sam, it’s okay. You can tell me.”
“Not this. No. Not this.” He cringed as the memory flooded him again, and he could hear Jim talking, but couldn’t make out the words. He fought his way clear, pushed the tears away. “I…I want to…be alone….I’m sorry…I just…can’t do this right now.”
“Okay, Sam. I’ll give you some space, some time. But I will come back.”
Gabe felt the car slowing, stopping. He hadn’t realized he had fallen asleep. Before he was fully aware of himself, he heard voices. Caleb, his father. He sat up slowly. It was the middle of the day, the parking lot of some truck stop. He went to rub his eyes, but stopped as he saw the dried blood.
Blood. A lot of blood.
Then he remembered. He remembered shooting that man. Shooting him straight and cold and dead. Remembered cutting him. He closed his eyes and breathed through a wave of nausea. Then the car door was opened and his father was looking at him. Looking at him with eyes that said he knew…eyes that apologized and told him he was proud and eyes that wanted to know if he was okay.
“Dad.” It came out weak and shaky, and Allen was reaching for him, pulling him to the door. His father hugged him close, held him tight.
When he finally let go, Allen ruffled a hand through Gabe’s hair. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Gabe nodded numbly and followed when his father led him through the little store to the back where the truckers showers were. Gabe bent over himself, hiding his bloody hands and clothes under the jacket his father slung around his shoulders.
“We’ll get you cleaned up and get some food in your stomach before we head out.” Allen said as he got the water going and helped Gabe strip.
The water was hot and it felt good, and Gabe hadn’t realized how cold he was until he got under it. “I’m going to go get you some clothes Gabe. You just relax.”
Gabe heard the door open and close and tilted his head to let the water flow over his face. His head was filled with images of that man with his family…of two little boys who would never know what had happened…why their Daddy never came home.
He started shaking. He was cold, even with the hot water stinging his skin. There had to be something wrong with him. Had to be. He was fucked up…ever since Dean had grabbed him, ever since his father had told him what had happened to Dean…Dean, of all people. Gabe hadn’t been thinking clearly since. And now…now…he turned the shower up hotter, trying to clean his skin of the feeling of the blood. He scrubbed at his hands, and was still scrubbing them when the door opened again.
He whimpered as he scraped his fingers over raw skin and his father’s head peeked around the curtain. “Gabe, you okay?”
Gabe shook his head. “I killed him…I shot him…just shot him.”
Allen nodded and stepped into the shower after kicking off his shoes. “I know. It’s okay, Gabe.”
“No…he…he was a man, Dad. He had kids….what’s going to happen to his kids?” Gabe shook his head. What was he saying? His father grabbed his hands, stopped the scrubbing.
“Gabe, look at me.” His father’s clothes were getting wet and for a moment, Gabe couldn’t figure out why. “Gabriel. Eyes, now.”
Gabe responded to the tone, if not the words, his eyes snapping to his father’s. “You did the right thing. Hear me?”
“I know. But…god Dad. I shot him and I…fuck.” He squeezed his eyes shut. He could see Thomas laying there, the black circle of the entry wound in his temple, his eyes frozen open…naked…and there was so much blood…it coated his hands…”I cut him…I…god, what is wrong with me?”
His father’s arms folded around him, holding him, caressing down his back. “Nothing’s wrong with you Gabe. You’re okay.”
“No…you didn’t see…what I did.”
“You shot a man who was evil, a monster. He deserved worse”
Gabe stared down at the walls of the shower stall. He’d been angry…that cold kind of anger that settles in deep. “I made him take off his clothes.” He had wanted to…would have…”I wanted to hurt him…wanted to….” He was shaking again and his father pulled back, putting his hands on either side of Gabe’s face.
“Gabe, you did the right thing.”
Gabe shook his hand, hands and all. “I cut his dick off.” He looked down at his hands, expecting them to be covered in blood. “Why…how could I do that? What’s wrong with me?”
Allen nodded, as if suddenly understanding where the blood had come from. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything.”
“No…I was careful…I was good…and…” Gabe pulled back, away, looking down at his hands again. “I…the shirt…I, it’s covered in blood…we have to burn it. We have to…”
Allen grabbed him again. The water was starting to run cold. “Gabe, the shirt is taken care of. Ellen has it and the clothes you were wearing. She’s going to burn them all, okay? We’re taking care of it.”
Gabe nodded and shivered. “I killed him.”
Allen nodded and reached behind Gabe to turn off the water. “You hungry? Bobby’s got us a table in the restaurant.”
“Cold.”
Allen pushed open the shower curtain and pulled two towels from the rack, settling one around Gabe’s shoulders, and using the other to start rubbing Gabe dry. “Okay, step out. Let’s get you dressed.”
Gabe turned as they stepped clear of the shower, stopping to stare at the mirror. He’d almost forgotten about the hair cut, and with his hair slicked back and wet he looked older…different. “Dean.” He shook his head. “How are they, Dean and Sam?”
Allen looked up at his son, handing him a pair of boxers to put on. “They’re…as good as can be expected, Gabe.”
Gabe stepped into the boxers and held out his hand for the jeans. “Good. Do they know we’re coming?”
Allen nodded. “Yeah, we talked to John a little while ago. He’s setting up a place for us to deal with Gorlian.”
“Jo and Ash? Did Ellen get a hold of them?”
Allen pulled the price tag off of a sweatshirt that he handed to Gabe. “Yes, they’re meeting us at the cabin. Ash thinks that you can help him track down how they’re watching the cabin.”
Gabe turned suddenly. “They’re watching the cabin?”
“Ellen didn’t tell you?”
“No.”
“Someone delivered a box of DVDs to the cabin.”
Gabe felt his face drain of color. “There was a message on one of them, something to the effect that as long as John doesn’t leave the cabin, they won’t be hurt.”
“Fuck!”
“Gabe.”
He shook his head. “No. I checked that place. I checked a one mile perimeter around that place. There was nothing. I put up dampers. One in each bedroom, two downstairs. That place is clean.”
Allen frowned at him. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. No one’s getting as much as a sound recording.”
“Finish getting dressed. We’ll figure it out.”
Pastor Jim Murphy was not a man who flustered easily. Working with the hunter community had taught him a lot about taking things in stride, even things his collar might otherwise make him blanch over. He was not naïve or stupid.
So when John found him sitting on the trunk of his car with a bottle of Irish Whiskey half way to gone, it was a dead give away that just maybe he’d come up against something that went beyond what he’d come prepared to handle.
Jim didn’t look at him as he offered the bottle. John took it after a moment’s hesitation and tipped it back. “I know you warned me that it was…bad.”
He took a drink from the bottle, then set it on the trunk beside him. “I know you said rape and I know you said they needed someone…someone not you to talk to. I didn’t realize…I mean…who would?”
“I should have told you more. I’m sorry.”
Jim shook his head. “No, John. It’s not your fault. I couldn’t expect you to tell me…not when it’s your boys. Not when that has been done to your boys.”
“Jim…I don’t even know what to say.”
He nodded. “I know the feeling.” He was quiet for a minute, then took a slow, deep breath. “How long have you known?”
John didn’t answer, didn’t look up. He scuffed his boot through the gravel of the drive way.
“I suspected. That last time the boys came by without you? When they brought me those books, before Sam left. But…you never…I figured I had imagined it. But then, Dean…the way he needs Sam…the way he needs to take care of Sam.” Jim reached for the bottle again, rolling it in his hands. “Those boys of yours John…they were fucked up about sex long before either one of them was raped.”
John nodded slowly, his hands in his pockets. “I…didn’t know. Not until recently.” He turned, looking at Jim. “Look…if it’s too much…if you want to leave, I understand. I won’t hold it against you.”
That finally made Jim look up. “I’m not leaving John. I said they were fucked up, not that I was leaving.”
John met his gaze evenly. “I’m not saying I condone it, or that I like it or what have you…but they need one another right now. I’m not letting anything get between them.”
Jim managed a smile. “I know. I know John. Sam’s the only thing that’s going to bring Dean back, and Dean’s the only thing Sam’s pulling himself out of the dark for right now…and if they don’t kill each other with the pretending to be okay and the trying so damn hard to be who they think they’re supposed to be, they might get through this.”
“Sam?” Dean pushed open the door and Sam looked up from the laptop.
“Hey.”
“Busy?”
“Digging through the stuff Gabe sent.”
Dean nodded and came to sit on the end of the bed. “I’m sorry.”
Sam frowned at him and shook his head. “I’m fine.”
Dean rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “You keep saying that.”
“Eventually it will be true.” Sam countered, crossing his arms too. “Isn’t that what you told me?”
Dean made a face. He hadn’t expected Sam to throw it back at him. “Yeah…okay, so maybe I’m starting to see a drawback to the whole pretending plan.”
They were quiet for a minute, then Sam reached for his hand. “You seem to be doing better.”
“Pastor Jim told me that it’s okay to be…whoever I end up being. That I don’t have to try so hard to be…him.”
Sam lifted the hand he was holding and pressed a kiss to his palm. “I love you…whoever you are.”
“Yeah?”
Sam nodded. “Yeah.”
Dean leaned forward until he was lying with his head on Sam’s thigh. “I love you too Sam.”
“See…and that’s better than the old Dean, any day.” Sam said softly, brushing a kiss over his forehead.
Dean smiled and sighed softly. “I think he knows.”
“Pastor Jim?”
Dean nodded and Sam echoed the motion. “Yeah…I think he does. I…freaked out a little on him earlier.”
Dean turned to look up at him. “But you talked, right? Because after…what I did…you…you need to talk about it.”
“We talked Dean.” Sam blew out softly. “And you? Are you really talking to him?” Sam asked.
Dean made his traditional don’t-want-to-talk face and sighed. “Yeah. I mean…we’ve talked.” He looked up into Sam’s face, trying to find the words. “I can say stuff to him…stuff I don’t think I could tell Dad.”
Sam nodded. “Yeah…I know.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Sam shook his head. “You didn’t. I could have told you no. Maybe I should have.” He ran a hand through his hair.
“You promised me you would tell me.” Dean pulled his hand up, ran a finger over the ring. “When it’s too much to pretend…when it’s not okay. You promised.” He twined his fingers through Sam’s.
“I know Dean. I’m sorry.”
They were quiet again and Dean pulled their joined hands closer to his chest. “Do you think…do you think we can be okay…even if we’re never the same?” Dean closed his eyes and chuckled. “God I sound like a girl.”
“Yeah, you do…and yeah, I do.”
Gabe felt cornered sitting against the window in the booth. His father sat beside him, bantering easily with the waitress. Bobby sat across from him, his eyes darting between Gabe and Caleb at the end of the table.
He kept his hands under the table, hidden. They felt sticky, even though he knew they were clean. He looked up as Ellen joined them. She smiled brightly at the waitress and ordered something without even looking at the menu.
Gabe could feel her eyes on him and looked away, out the window. He felt like he was on display…like everyone who looked at him could see what he’d done. “Our passenger has been freshly dosed. He should sleep the rest of the way.” Ellen said.
“Good. I was getting tired of him kicking me in the back.” Bobby said.
“We should change up. Caleb, you ride with Ellen. Gabe can ride with me and Bobby.” Allen said.
Gabe turned to look at Caleb. He didn’t know how he felt about that. About Caleb leaving him. And wasn’t that just plain dumb. But his father was right. Just in case.
The waitress set his plate in front of him. Gabe stared at it. The thought was strange, that he should be sitting in some restaurant eating a burger. Not that he knew where he should be instead. He felt eyes on him and looked up to see Caleb watching him. Gabe sighed and picked up his hamburger. He’d done it to spare Caleb. He couldn’t let Caleb feel guilty for it now.
John finished putting a few touches on the shed out behind the cabin. It was roomy enough to hold a riding lawn mower, that he didn’t think had worked in years, and various tools. He’d cleaned it out, put in some hooks and run some chains. He only needed to find a few locks.
He was grimy and needed a shower as he trudged back up to the house. It felt good to have something to do. Let him take his mind off the fact that the man responsible for this whole thing was on his way, or that someone was still watching them.
As he rounded the corner of the house, a beat up pick up was kicking up dust as it came up the drive from the road. He stopped beside the stairs to the porch, his heart pounding. The pounding eased when a blonde head peeked out the window, and then the doors were opening and he could see Jo.
“I told you it was the right turn.” Jo said to Ash as he rolled his eyes at her.
“Yeah, but I was the one who figured out you had us going the wrong way in the first place.” They both stopped in front of John. “Hey.”
“Ash, Jo. Glad you’re both all right.”
“My ass is numb.” Jo said, glaring at Ash. “We’ve been driving for days because this one wouldn’t stop.”
“You must be tired then.”
“With the amount of coffee she drinks? It’s a wonder she sleeps at all.”
John smiled, though he was less amused than annoyed. “Well, there’s a room at the end of the hall. Jo, that was the room your mother was staying in. You can crash there. Ash, you can sleep in Gabe’s room. It’s the one three doors down from the stairs, on the right.”
“Gotta love this place.” Ash said starting up the stairs. “Andrew calls it a flipping cabin, but it’s more like a manor in the woods.”
“How long have you known Andrew?” John asked as he followed them inside.
Ash shrugged. “Most of my life. He and my father worked together.”
“So do I finally get to meet those boys of yours?” Jo asked, slipping an arm through John’s.
He grinned at her. “Eventually. They’re resting right now. They’ll probably come down for dinner though.”
“Mmm…dinner. I’m starving.”
“As soon as I get cleaned up I’ll start cooking.”
“You want me to work on the data Gabe sent?” Ash asked.
John shook his head. “You’ve been driving a long time. Rest. Sam’s been working at it and Gabe will be here sometime tonight.”
John stopped at the door to the bathroom. “I really am glad you’re okay.” He kissed Jo’s forehead and sent her toward Ellen’s room. The door to the boys’ room opened and Dean peeked out.
“Everything okay?”
John nodded. “Ash and Jo are here. So watch yourself.” He nodded at Dean, and Dean nodded back.
“Yeah. We will.”
“You need anything?”
“No…Sam’s sleeping. I’m just…here.”
“Jim’s down by the creek, if you want to talk.”
Dean shrugged. “Kinda talked out for now.”
John nodded. He could understand that. “I’m gonna get cleaned up, then start some dinner.” Dean nodded and closed the door and John closed the bathroom door, stripping out of his dirty t-shirt even before he’d started the shower. It was as he stepped into it that his mind filled with images of Dean…broken, defeated, held up by another man…another slave. Being washed and instructed.
He closed his eyes and turned into the water, willing it to wash the images away. They were only replaced by images of Dean holding Sam, washing him and soothing him. He shook his head and forced his mind to other images, to the blaze as the compound burned…to what he planned to do to Michael Harvelle when he got his hands on him.
Sam sighed in frustration as he tried to pull himself up off the bed. The whole thing with this cast was getting really old. He got to his feet just as Dean opened the door. “Everyone’s downstairs, so if you want to shower, now’s the time.”
Sam nodded and reached for the crutches. “I cut that pair of jeans so I might look like an actual person when I go downstairs.”
“Dude, we’re going to have to get you all new clothes when you get that cast off.”
“I’d wear yours, but they’d be high waters.”
Dean chuckled and held up the trash bag. “Okay gigantor, let’s get you cleaned up.”
Dean stripped right beside Sam once they were in the bathroom, climbing in behind him. “What?”
“I know how to shower.”
“I’m saving water.”
“You’re lame. You haven’t used that excuse since that time in Wichita, when Dad caught us in the shower together.”
Dean pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “Stop fussing and wash.”
Sam moved forward enough to give Dean some room, then turned to reach for the shampoo. “I’ll be so grateful to have this damn thing off.”
“Hmmm…me too.” Dean soaped up a washcloth and washed Sam’s back. He stiffened a little, then relaxed. “I want my car back.”
“Your car?”
“We left it behind when we came after your sorry ass.” Dean said, handing the washcloth to Sam and turning around. “As soon as you can drive, we’re going back for it.”
Sam washed over Dean’s back. “I’m sorry. I haven’t even thought about the car.”
“I had a dream about it.” Dean’s grin was devious. “Remember Diedre Cohen?”
“The red head in Glaser?”
“Oh yeah…Her daddy caught us out at Inspiration Point…broke out the back window.”
Sam chuckled. “Yeah, and you told Dad some big rig was throwing out gravel and blew it out.”
Dean turned back around and kissed Sam unexpectedly. “I miss it.”
“What? Getting chased by fathers for making out with their girls?”
“No…the road. The hunt.” Dean shook his head. “Music pouring out of the speakers, on the road…you and me…chasing after some bad thing. The black and white of knowing what is right, what has to be done.”
Sam nodded, though he looked less enthused than Dean felt about the idea. “When this is done…when…you’re cast is off and this is…done, I want that again.” He ran his hands through Sam’s soapy hair, helping the water wash it out as he turned them again. “What about you Sammy? You want that?”
Sam stepped closer, pulling Dean into his arms. “I want to be with you Dean…wherever, whatever…I don’t care…I just don’t ever want to be away from you again.”
Title: Fallout
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean, John, Ellen, Bobby, Caleb, Pastor Jim, OMC, OFC
Rating: NC-17 (for thematic reasons)
Word Count: 3742
Summary: Broken!Verse, chapter 40 ( Click here for Index of all chapters)
Summary: Sam and Jim continue their conversation, Gabe starts to realize what he's done, Jim makes a confession to John, and there is an abundance of showering going on.
A/Ns and Warnings: Very dark. Includes memory of torture and rape and very dark violence.
Sam sat back and didn’t look at Pastor Jim. “What else did Dean say?”
Jim pulled his hand back and went back to cradling his coffee. “He said he might have hurt you and that I needed to get you to talk.”
“He…didn’t hurt me.” Sam said breathlessly. “Not…physically.”
“I think you’ve had enough psychology classes to know that not all pain is physical Sam.”
“Yeah…I get it, I know…I do…I just…I’m okay…I have to be okay.”
“Why?”
“What?” Sam looked up, startled by the question.
“Why do you have to be okay? If you’re not, I mean. Why pretend?”
Sam groaned. “Dean…he’s…it was so much more for him…he said it himself…I was only there for four days.” Four days and he folded. “And seeing it…what they did to him…how long he fought…I have to be okay for him.”
“Well, if he’s pretending to be okay for you and you're pretending to be okay for him, how do you think either one of you will ever get through this?”
Sam shook his head.
“So, why don’t you tell me what Dean did? How did he hurt you?”
Sam felt himself flushing. He hid behind the coffee cup, drinking instead of answering. He couldn’t tell Pastor Jim that. Couldn’t tell him that Dean fucking him had brought back the rape…and given him nightmares.
“Did he touch you, Sam?”
“God. Fuck. I can’t…” He exhaled sharply. “No. I mean, yes, he touched me.” Sam froze. He didn’t just say that.
“How did he touch you?”
“He…it was…nothing…I’d just…” He couldn’t think clearly, his mind stuck on the whispers of Dean’s voice, the touch of his hand, urgent to make Sam know he loved him. “Too much…the DVDs…and…his…trying…” He couldn’t quite cut off the sob and turned away, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Sam, it’s okay. You can tell me.”
“Not this. No. Not this.” He cringed as the memory flooded him again, and he could hear Jim talking, but couldn’t make out the words. He fought his way clear, pushed the tears away. “I…I want to…be alone….I’m sorry…I just…can’t do this right now.”
“Okay, Sam. I’ll give you some space, some time. But I will come back.”
Gabe felt the car slowing, stopping. He hadn’t realized he had fallen asleep. Before he was fully aware of himself, he heard voices. Caleb, his father. He sat up slowly. It was the middle of the day, the parking lot of some truck stop. He went to rub his eyes, but stopped as he saw the dried blood.
Blood. A lot of blood.
Then he remembered. He remembered shooting that man. Shooting him straight and cold and dead. Remembered cutting him. He closed his eyes and breathed through a wave of nausea. Then the car door was opened and his father was looking at him. Looking at him with eyes that said he knew…eyes that apologized and told him he was proud and eyes that wanted to know if he was okay.
“Dad.” It came out weak and shaky, and Allen was reaching for him, pulling him to the door. His father hugged him close, held him tight.
When he finally let go, Allen ruffled a hand through Gabe’s hair. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Gabe nodded numbly and followed when his father led him through the little store to the back where the truckers showers were. Gabe bent over himself, hiding his bloody hands and clothes under the jacket his father slung around his shoulders.
“We’ll get you cleaned up and get some food in your stomach before we head out.” Allen said as he got the water going and helped Gabe strip.
The water was hot and it felt good, and Gabe hadn’t realized how cold he was until he got under it. “I’m going to go get you some clothes Gabe. You just relax.”
Gabe heard the door open and close and tilted his head to let the water flow over his face. His head was filled with images of that man with his family…of two little boys who would never know what had happened…why their Daddy never came home.
He started shaking. He was cold, even with the hot water stinging his skin. There had to be something wrong with him. Had to be. He was fucked up…ever since Dean had grabbed him, ever since his father had told him what had happened to Dean…Dean, of all people. Gabe hadn’t been thinking clearly since. And now…now…he turned the shower up hotter, trying to clean his skin of the feeling of the blood. He scrubbed at his hands, and was still scrubbing them when the door opened again.
He whimpered as he scraped his fingers over raw skin and his father’s head peeked around the curtain. “Gabe, you okay?”
Gabe shook his head. “I killed him…I shot him…just shot him.”
Allen nodded and stepped into the shower after kicking off his shoes. “I know. It’s okay, Gabe.”
“No…he…he was a man, Dad. He had kids….what’s going to happen to his kids?” Gabe shook his head. What was he saying? His father grabbed his hands, stopped the scrubbing.
“Gabe, look at me.” His father’s clothes were getting wet and for a moment, Gabe couldn’t figure out why. “Gabriel. Eyes, now.”
Gabe responded to the tone, if not the words, his eyes snapping to his father’s. “You did the right thing. Hear me?”
“I know. But…god Dad. I shot him and I…fuck.” He squeezed his eyes shut. He could see Thomas laying there, the black circle of the entry wound in his temple, his eyes frozen open…naked…and there was so much blood…it coated his hands…”I cut him…I…god, what is wrong with me?”
His father’s arms folded around him, holding him, caressing down his back. “Nothing’s wrong with you Gabe. You’re okay.”
“No…you didn’t see…what I did.”
“You shot a man who was evil, a monster. He deserved worse”
Gabe stared down at the walls of the shower stall. He’d been angry…that cold kind of anger that settles in deep. “I made him take off his clothes.” He had wanted to…would have…”I wanted to hurt him…wanted to….” He was shaking again and his father pulled back, putting his hands on either side of Gabe’s face.
“Gabe, you did the right thing.”
Gabe shook his hand, hands and all. “I cut his dick off.” He looked down at his hands, expecting them to be covered in blood. “Why…how could I do that? What’s wrong with me?”
Allen nodded, as if suddenly understanding where the blood had come from. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything.”
“No…I was careful…I was good…and…” Gabe pulled back, away, looking down at his hands again. “I…the shirt…I, it’s covered in blood…we have to burn it. We have to…”
Allen grabbed him again. The water was starting to run cold. “Gabe, the shirt is taken care of. Ellen has it and the clothes you were wearing. She’s going to burn them all, okay? We’re taking care of it.”
Gabe nodded and shivered. “I killed him.”
Allen nodded and reached behind Gabe to turn off the water. “You hungry? Bobby’s got us a table in the restaurant.”
“Cold.”
Allen pushed open the shower curtain and pulled two towels from the rack, settling one around Gabe’s shoulders, and using the other to start rubbing Gabe dry. “Okay, step out. Let’s get you dressed.”
Gabe turned as they stepped clear of the shower, stopping to stare at the mirror. He’d almost forgotten about the hair cut, and with his hair slicked back and wet he looked older…different. “Dean.” He shook his head. “How are they, Dean and Sam?”
Allen looked up at his son, handing him a pair of boxers to put on. “They’re…as good as can be expected, Gabe.”
Gabe stepped into the boxers and held out his hand for the jeans. “Good. Do they know we’re coming?”
Allen nodded. “Yeah, we talked to John a little while ago. He’s setting up a place for us to deal with Gorlian.”
“Jo and Ash? Did Ellen get a hold of them?”
Allen pulled the price tag off of a sweatshirt that he handed to Gabe. “Yes, they’re meeting us at the cabin. Ash thinks that you can help him track down how they’re watching the cabin.”
Gabe turned suddenly. “They’re watching the cabin?”
“Ellen didn’t tell you?”
“No.”
“Someone delivered a box of DVDs to the cabin.”
Gabe felt his face drain of color. “There was a message on one of them, something to the effect that as long as John doesn’t leave the cabin, they won’t be hurt.”
“Fuck!”
“Gabe.”
He shook his head. “No. I checked that place. I checked a one mile perimeter around that place. There was nothing. I put up dampers. One in each bedroom, two downstairs. That place is clean.”
Allen frowned at him. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. No one’s getting as much as a sound recording.”
“Finish getting dressed. We’ll figure it out.”
Pastor Jim Murphy was not a man who flustered easily. Working with the hunter community had taught him a lot about taking things in stride, even things his collar might otherwise make him blanch over. He was not naïve or stupid.
So when John found him sitting on the trunk of his car with a bottle of Irish Whiskey half way to gone, it was a dead give away that just maybe he’d come up against something that went beyond what he’d come prepared to handle.
Jim didn’t look at him as he offered the bottle. John took it after a moment’s hesitation and tipped it back. “I know you warned me that it was…bad.”
He took a drink from the bottle, then set it on the trunk beside him. “I know you said rape and I know you said they needed someone…someone not you to talk to. I didn’t realize…I mean…who would?”
“I should have told you more. I’m sorry.”
Jim shook his head. “No, John. It’s not your fault. I couldn’t expect you to tell me…not when it’s your boys. Not when that has been done to your boys.”
“Jim…I don’t even know what to say.”
He nodded. “I know the feeling.” He was quiet for a minute, then took a slow, deep breath. “How long have you known?”
John didn’t answer, didn’t look up. He scuffed his boot through the gravel of the drive way.
“I suspected. That last time the boys came by without you? When they brought me those books, before Sam left. But…you never…I figured I had imagined it. But then, Dean…the way he needs Sam…the way he needs to take care of Sam.” Jim reached for the bottle again, rolling it in his hands. “Those boys of yours John…they were fucked up about sex long before either one of them was raped.”
John nodded slowly, his hands in his pockets. “I…didn’t know. Not until recently.” He turned, looking at Jim. “Look…if it’s too much…if you want to leave, I understand. I won’t hold it against you.”
That finally made Jim look up. “I’m not leaving John. I said they were fucked up, not that I was leaving.”
John met his gaze evenly. “I’m not saying I condone it, or that I like it or what have you…but they need one another right now. I’m not letting anything get between them.”
Jim managed a smile. “I know. I know John. Sam’s the only thing that’s going to bring Dean back, and Dean’s the only thing Sam’s pulling himself out of the dark for right now…and if they don’t kill each other with the pretending to be okay and the trying so damn hard to be who they think they’re supposed to be, they might get through this.”
“Sam?” Dean pushed open the door and Sam looked up from the laptop.
“Hey.”
“Busy?”
“Digging through the stuff Gabe sent.”
Dean nodded and came to sit on the end of the bed. “I’m sorry.”
Sam frowned at him and shook his head. “I’m fine.”
Dean rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “You keep saying that.”
“Eventually it will be true.” Sam countered, crossing his arms too. “Isn’t that what you told me?”
Dean made a face. He hadn’t expected Sam to throw it back at him. “Yeah…okay, so maybe I’m starting to see a drawback to the whole pretending plan.”
They were quiet for a minute, then Sam reached for his hand. “You seem to be doing better.”
“Pastor Jim told me that it’s okay to be…whoever I end up being. That I don’t have to try so hard to be…him.”
Sam lifted the hand he was holding and pressed a kiss to his palm. “I love you…whoever you are.”
“Yeah?”
Sam nodded. “Yeah.”
Dean leaned forward until he was lying with his head on Sam’s thigh. “I love you too Sam.”
“See…and that’s better than the old Dean, any day.” Sam said softly, brushing a kiss over his forehead.
Dean smiled and sighed softly. “I think he knows.”
“Pastor Jim?”
Dean nodded and Sam echoed the motion. “Yeah…I think he does. I…freaked out a little on him earlier.”
Dean turned to look up at him. “But you talked, right? Because after…what I did…you…you need to talk about it.”
“We talked Dean.” Sam blew out softly. “And you? Are you really talking to him?” Sam asked.
Dean made his traditional don’t-want-to-talk face and sighed. “Yeah. I mean…we’ve talked.” He looked up into Sam’s face, trying to find the words. “I can say stuff to him…stuff I don’t think I could tell Dad.”
Sam nodded. “Yeah…I know.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Sam shook his head. “You didn’t. I could have told you no. Maybe I should have.” He ran a hand through his hair.
“You promised me you would tell me.” Dean pulled his hand up, ran a finger over the ring. “When it’s too much to pretend…when it’s not okay. You promised.” He twined his fingers through Sam’s.
“I know Dean. I’m sorry.”
They were quiet again and Dean pulled their joined hands closer to his chest. “Do you think…do you think we can be okay…even if we’re never the same?” Dean closed his eyes and chuckled. “God I sound like a girl.”
“Yeah, you do…and yeah, I do.”
Gabe felt cornered sitting against the window in the booth. His father sat beside him, bantering easily with the waitress. Bobby sat across from him, his eyes darting between Gabe and Caleb at the end of the table.
He kept his hands under the table, hidden. They felt sticky, even though he knew they were clean. He looked up as Ellen joined them. She smiled brightly at the waitress and ordered something without even looking at the menu.
Gabe could feel her eyes on him and looked away, out the window. He felt like he was on display…like everyone who looked at him could see what he’d done. “Our passenger has been freshly dosed. He should sleep the rest of the way.” Ellen said.
“Good. I was getting tired of him kicking me in the back.” Bobby said.
“We should change up. Caleb, you ride with Ellen. Gabe can ride with me and Bobby.” Allen said.
Gabe turned to look at Caleb. He didn’t know how he felt about that. About Caleb leaving him. And wasn’t that just plain dumb. But his father was right. Just in case.
The waitress set his plate in front of him. Gabe stared at it. The thought was strange, that he should be sitting in some restaurant eating a burger. Not that he knew where he should be instead. He felt eyes on him and looked up to see Caleb watching him. Gabe sighed and picked up his hamburger. He’d done it to spare Caleb. He couldn’t let Caleb feel guilty for it now.
John finished putting a few touches on the shed out behind the cabin. It was roomy enough to hold a riding lawn mower, that he didn’t think had worked in years, and various tools. He’d cleaned it out, put in some hooks and run some chains. He only needed to find a few locks.
He was grimy and needed a shower as he trudged back up to the house. It felt good to have something to do. Let him take his mind off the fact that the man responsible for this whole thing was on his way, or that someone was still watching them.
As he rounded the corner of the house, a beat up pick up was kicking up dust as it came up the drive from the road. He stopped beside the stairs to the porch, his heart pounding. The pounding eased when a blonde head peeked out the window, and then the doors were opening and he could see Jo.
“I told you it was the right turn.” Jo said to Ash as he rolled his eyes at her.
“Yeah, but I was the one who figured out you had us going the wrong way in the first place.” They both stopped in front of John. “Hey.”
“Ash, Jo. Glad you’re both all right.”
“My ass is numb.” Jo said, glaring at Ash. “We’ve been driving for days because this one wouldn’t stop.”
“You must be tired then.”
“With the amount of coffee she drinks? It’s a wonder she sleeps at all.”
John smiled, though he was less amused than annoyed. “Well, there’s a room at the end of the hall. Jo, that was the room your mother was staying in. You can crash there. Ash, you can sleep in Gabe’s room. It’s the one three doors down from the stairs, on the right.”
“Gotta love this place.” Ash said starting up the stairs. “Andrew calls it a flipping cabin, but it’s more like a manor in the woods.”
“How long have you known Andrew?” John asked as he followed them inside.
Ash shrugged. “Most of my life. He and my father worked together.”
“So do I finally get to meet those boys of yours?” Jo asked, slipping an arm through John’s.
He grinned at her. “Eventually. They’re resting right now. They’ll probably come down for dinner though.”
“Mmm…dinner. I’m starving.”
“As soon as I get cleaned up I’ll start cooking.”
“You want me to work on the data Gabe sent?” Ash asked.
John shook his head. “You’ve been driving a long time. Rest. Sam’s been working at it and Gabe will be here sometime tonight.”
John stopped at the door to the bathroom. “I really am glad you’re okay.” He kissed Jo’s forehead and sent her toward Ellen’s room. The door to the boys’ room opened and Dean peeked out.
“Everything okay?”
John nodded. “Ash and Jo are here. So watch yourself.” He nodded at Dean, and Dean nodded back.
“Yeah. We will.”
“You need anything?”
“No…Sam’s sleeping. I’m just…here.”
“Jim’s down by the creek, if you want to talk.”
Dean shrugged. “Kinda talked out for now.”
John nodded. He could understand that. “I’m gonna get cleaned up, then start some dinner.” Dean nodded and closed the door and John closed the bathroom door, stripping out of his dirty t-shirt even before he’d started the shower. It was as he stepped into it that his mind filled with images of Dean…broken, defeated, held up by another man…another slave. Being washed and instructed.
He closed his eyes and turned into the water, willing it to wash the images away. They were only replaced by images of Dean holding Sam, washing him and soothing him. He shook his head and forced his mind to other images, to the blaze as the compound burned…to what he planned to do to Michael Harvelle when he got his hands on him.
Sam sighed in frustration as he tried to pull himself up off the bed. The whole thing with this cast was getting really old. He got to his feet just as Dean opened the door. “Everyone’s downstairs, so if you want to shower, now’s the time.”
Sam nodded and reached for the crutches. “I cut that pair of jeans so I might look like an actual person when I go downstairs.”
“Dude, we’re going to have to get you all new clothes when you get that cast off.”
“I’d wear yours, but they’d be high waters.”
Dean chuckled and held up the trash bag. “Okay gigantor, let’s get you cleaned up.”
Dean stripped right beside Sam once they were in the bathroom, climbing in behind him. “What?”
“I know how to shower.”
“I’m saving water.”
“You’re lame. You haven’t used that excuse since that time in Wichita, when Dad caught us in the shower together.”
Dean pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “Stop fussing and wash.”
Sam moved forward enough to give Dean some room, then turned to reach for the shampoo. “I’ll be so grateful to have this damn thing off.”
“Hmmm…me too.” Dean soaped up a washcloth and washed Sam’s back. He stiffened a little, then relaxed. “I want my car back.”
“Your car?”
“We left it behind when we came after your sorry ass.” Dean said, handing the washcloth to Sam and turning around. “As soon as you can drive, we’re going back for it.”
Sam washed over Dean’s back. “I’m sorry. I haven’t even thought about the car.”
“I had a dream about it.” Dean’s grin was devious. “Remember Diedre Cohen?”
“The red head in Glaser?”
“Oh yeah…Her daddy caught us out at Inspiration Point…broke out the back window.”
Sam chuckled. “Yeah, and you told Dad some big rig was throwing out gravel and blew it out.”
Dean turned back around and kissed Sam unexpectedly. “I miss it.”
“What? Getting chased by fathers for making out with their girls?”
“No…the road. The hunt.” Dean shook his head. “Music pouring out of the speakers, on the road…you and me…chasing after some bad thing. The black and white of knowing what is right, what has to be done.”
Sam nodded, though he looked less enthused than Dean felt about the idea. “When this is done…when…you’re cast is off and this is…done, I want that again.” He ran his hands through Sam’s soapy hair, helping the water wash it out as he turned them again. “What about you Sammy? You want that?”
Sam stepped closer, pulling Dean into his arms. “I want to be with you Dean…wherever, whatever…I don’t care…I just don’t ever want to be away from you again.”