Fic: Cream of Negotiation (Sam/Dean R)
Title: Cream of Negotiation
Author: smalltrolven
Artist: lightthesparks
Relationship: Sam/Dean
Word Count: 3,100
Rating: R
Warnings: Spoilers for up to 8.19
Author Note: Written for the Spn-bigpretzel Spring Fic Exchange for candygramme based on two of her prompts, 1: Dean is sleepwalking. Sam wants to know why. 2: There are fairies in the bat cave, keeping it clean. Their shop steward comes to talk about a raise.
Thanks for the speedy and helpful beta go to the always wonderful stella-lost
Disclaimer: Not my characters only my words.
Synopsis: Dean's sleepwalking, and Sam investigates, discovering the fairy that is supposed to clean the Bat Cave is using Dean in his sleep to do his jobs. A renegotiation of terms of service ensues.
This can also be read over at AO3.
Link to all the awesome art by lightthesparks is here.
~*~*~*~*~*
Sam didn’t notice. Not at first. But when he started waking up coughing blood several times a night, well that’s when he couldn’t help but notice his brother wasn’t sleeping in their bed like he usually did. Dean’s normal routine was to fall asleep and pretty much not move much at all, especially if they’d had sex, which was a nightly thing now. Something about finally being reunited and the worry about the final trial was driving them into each other’s arms more frequently. Neither one was complaining. But maybe Dean wasn’t enjoying it as much as Sam thought he would be. If he’s not in their bed where would he be?
After cleaning up the blood in his mouth, Sam finds some slippers and one of the larger dead guy robes. He still thinks of them that way even though they’d been laundered several times. He finally hears some noise in the kitchen. That makes some sense. Dean does get hungry. A lot lately. Maybe he’s got the munchies for the left over lasagna from dinner. The noises don’t sound like someone eating though, it sounds like mopping? In the middle of the night. Sam rounds the corner and sees Dean wielding the mop. His eyes are at a half slits, and he’s moving a little mechanically. “Dean, hey, what’re you doing?” Sam asks, hoping he doesn’t startle Dean too much.
But there’s no response, Dean just continues mopping, reaching further under the table now.
Sam steps forward and puts a hand on Dean’s shoulder, shaking him gently. “Dean, wake up.”
No response, at all. Sam tries again, right into Dean’s ear, “Dean, c’mon wake up.”
He tries biting and licking Dean’s ear, which usually stops Dean in his tracks no matter what he’s doing. Nothing, no reaction, no shiver, no groan of pleasure.
But there’s nothing, just his brother mindlessly mopping. The floor is almost done now. Maybe he’ll just stop on his own?
Sam sits down wearily at the table and watches him. Back and forth to the sink to rinse out the mop. Finally once he’s done the whole floor he rinses out the mop a final time, wrings it out, and hangs it up in the closet. He shuffles out of the kitchen, across the wet floor and back down the hall towards their room. Sam follows him and sees Dean climbing back into bed, one arm searching the side of the bed that Sam usually is sleeping in. The first expression on Dean’s face that Sam finally sees just now is disappointment, a little worry crease, like he’s worried that Sam’s not in the bed where he left him. Sam climbs in and rolls towards Dean who shifts and molds his body around Sam, finally relaxing. Sam smoothes his hand over Dean’s head, “Just rest Dean, I’ll figure this out.”
~*~*~*~*~*
Sam sleeps in a little longer than usual that morning, and when he wakes up he is surprised to see Dean still there asleep next to him. Dean looks much more tired than usual, those dark purple circles under his eyes showing up so clearly even in the dim light. Looking more closely at his brother’s face, Sam realizes that Dean looks almost as tired as he does. The middle of the night mopping must have been more work for Dean than he thought, it was really taking it out of Dean. Or maybe he’s just too worried about Sam and the last trial. Dean always has trouble sleeping when he’s worried about me. Sam muses to himself.
Before he can stop himself he reaches out to soothe the worry wrinkle from Dean’s brow with one soft finger touch. The only response is a soft sigh from Dean, and his lips curve up in the slightest of smiles. When he sees that smile, Sam can’t resist dragging his finger along the curve of Dean’s lips. This time he gets more of a response, Dean’s tongue flickers out and laps at his finger. Seeing Dean’s red tongue on his finger makes Sam gasp a little with the surprise of Dean’s tongue licking at his sensitive fingertip.
Soon Dean has sucked that finger into his mouth and Sam can’t help letting loose with a deep groan. Finally Dean’s eyes flicker open, meeting his as he parts his lips, releasing Sam’s now very wet finger, “Mornin’.”
Sam leans over and kisses Dean gently, murmuring “Good morning to you,” against Dean’s lips. Dean quickly has his arms wrapped around Sam pulling him in close, expanding the formerly chaste kiss with something much more passionate. Sam can feel the evidence of Dean’s excitement hardening against his hip and he starts moving his leg for Dean, to give him a little extra friction. Dean’s hips start to move more quickly as he’s purposefully rubbing himself against Sam in an almost continuous motion.
“C’mon Sammy.” Dean encourages, pulling Sam’s groin closer to him, grabbing at Sam’s ass with both hands to hold him tight against his hardness. Sam continues kissing Dean deeply, finally breaking off to bite his way down Dean’s neck. Hearing Dean’s groan and feeling his hips speed up faster, Sam bites down harder in that spot that he knows is Dean’s go-to guarantee trigger. Dean is writhing helplessly against him now. Sam joins in the motion, his excitement growing just at the thought of getting from zero to this full body rutting so quickly. It will never cease to amaze him how good it is, having Dean come apart in his arms so easily; like they’re locked-in and automatic pleasure experts for one another.
Dean clenches his hands tighter in the meaty part of Sam’s ass cheeks, pulling them apart and digging in hard enough to leave bruises. Those marks he knows Sam loves to look at in the mirror afterwards, as if he likes having Dean’s mark on him in such an obvious way. Dean knows he’s a possessive bastard, but he loves it too, seeing those dusky red marks on Sam’s perfect ass that say “Dean was here.”
Sam’s desperation to come with Dean is reaching out and pulling him along, their rhythm syncing up until it’s all perfect, the pressure, the heat, the friction of moving against each other. Sam goes back to kiss Dean and that’s all it takes. Their warm wet lips meeting again and Dean’s growl at the back of his throat that he swallows up, has him coming over the edge. Hot, and sparkling clear, he loves this, he needs it, and he takes it from Dean whenever he can.
Dean’s not far behind him, hips finally stuttering to a halt from their ceaseless pumping to grind hard one last time at Sam’s hip until he tightens up all over, releasing on a loud groan. Sam feels the dampness between them increase and knows he’s done. Sam kisses Dean a little more until they’re both needing a chance to breathe.
“Really good morning.” Dean says, still a little breathless.
“Didn’t think you’d be up for that after last night.”
“Last night?” What do you mean?”
“You were cleaning the kitchen at two am dude. I tried to stop you but it was like you weren’t there, you just wouldn’t quit. Like you were sleep-walking but on a mission or something.”
“You’re kidding right? C’mon Sam, me sleep-cleaning? I don’t even like cleaning when I’m awake.”
“Fine don’t believe me, but when you see the kitchen you will. Because you know I didn’t do it.”
“Okay, okay, don’t get your panties in a wad, I just don’t remember that at all. But, maybe that’s why I feel so damn tired.”
“Yeah, you were mopping the whole kitchen floor when I got there. And it looked like you’d already done the counters and stuff. It was really weird Dean, you wouldn’t wake up or talk to me or anything. You just had this blank expression on your face.”
“Weird. Well at least the kitchen’s clean, won’t have to do that today. I’ll have to mess it up and make something good for dinner.” Dean says, shrugging and reaching up to ruffle Sam’s hair.
Sam grabs his hand to stop the hair ruffling and squeezes it hard, “No more sleep-walking okay?”
“Just keep me tired with enough sex and I should sleep just fine.”
“That’s your solution for everything Dean.”
“Hey, you don’t ask, you don’t get.”
“Well, keep asking buddy, see what it gets ya.” Sam laughs at him as he leaves their room heading for the shower.
~*~*~*~*~*
They spend the whole day hanging around the Bat Cave, which Sam at first was refusing to call it, but after Dean’s insistence he finally gave in. With a little grumbling about how there’s supposed to be a fire pole and bats and maybe a super-helpful butler to really make it a Bat Cave. But Sam knows it’s a whole lot easier to go along with Dean on stuff like this. A lifetime of experience tells him that.
Sam looks up a few things about sleep-walking, night-time possession, that sort of thing, but he doesn’t get very far in his researching as Dean tempts him away with some home-made lasagna and some vintage movies on the pull-down screen Dean had found in the War Room. They drag in the comfortable chairs from the library and set up a little watching area. Beers and a bag of cheesy popcorn, and they’re all set. Several black and white detective movies later, Dean’s finally nodded off. Sam shuts down all the equipment and lifts him up under the arms, and helps him walk to bed. He falls asleep quickly too, wrapped around Dean in the hopes that he’ll wake up if Dean decides to go sleep-walking again.
This time apparently it’s time to clean the War Room. Dean’s bumping into all the furniture as he mops around it. The tool moving ceaselessly as he makes his way around the whole room. Again, Sam can’t wake him or even get a response so he waits until Dean decides he’s done and makes sure he gets back into bed.
Dean doesn’t believe him in the morning until Sam shows him the sparkling floor, with no evidence of their popcorn fest or spilled beer from last night.
Sam spends more time on research and thinks they’ve probably got some sort of fairy, not likely anything bad since the Bat Cave is warded against anything and everything. He consults some of the older Men of Letters journals and finds some advice on trapping fairies. Setting up several of those throughout the main floor, he hopes that this will work tonight, because Dean looks so worn out, and he’s already asleep at nine o’clock. Sam realizes that Dean didn’t even tease him once about trying to trap fairies, and that makes him even more worried, because that should be one hundred percent guaranteed brother teasing fodder.
Once again, he crawls into bed with Dean wrapping himself around his deeply asleep brother in the hopes of getting woken up if Dean gets the urge for more cleaning in the night. And yeah it didn’t work last night, but it’s as good an excuse as any to hold Dean close the way he hardly ever gets to. When he’s this worried about his brother, sometimes holding on is the only thing he feels like he can really do.
~*~*~*~*~*
Sam wakes up at 2 AM to hear a loud rattling, it sounds like maybe one of the traps worked. He hurries into the kitchen where Dean is wiping down the countertops this time instead of wielding the mop. Definitely not Dean making the noises, just the wet sounds of a sponge moving on the marble surface. He passes Dean by and heads towards the small kitchen closet where he’d set one of the traps. Opening the door slowly, he hears the rattling stop. “I won’t hurt you, don’t worry.” Sam says, trying to reassure whatever it is that he’s caught.
“Damnably right you will not hurt me! I shall hurt you, you sodding giant!” yells a small little man, about the height of a two year old, but grouchy and grizzled. He’s wearing brown clothing that looks weathered and worn, like it hasn’t been washed in a long time. He’s head to toe brown, deeply tanned brown skin, wrinkled and misshapen. Light brown hair that’s frizzy and messily escaping his brown felt tri-corn hat completes the look.
“Hey, calm down there, I just want to talk okay?”
“For a Man of Letters you certainly do not excel at following the rules!”
“Well, I’m not exactly one of them, my grandfather was, and I guess I was supposed to be. But they all were killed before they passed it on. I don’t know the rules I’m supposed to be following. My name’s Sam by the way, what’s yours and what sort of fairy are you?”
The little man screws up his face like he’s thinking hard, he growls at himself and says, “You may call me Gilno. I am the one in charge of taking care of this place. As I always have been. Your kind usually refers to my kinda as Bwca or Brownie.”
“It’s very nice to meet you Gilno. I wondered why this place was so well kept. Can I let you out of the trap, so we can keep talking more comfortably out here?” Gilno nods so Sam starts unfastening the rowan twigs and sweet-grass that forms the trap.
Gilno steps out of the closet and shakes his feet, jumping up and down. He hops up on a kitchen chair and then up onto the kitchen table, sitting down next to the salt and pepper right in the center.
“So, are you the one making my brother do all the cleaning lately?” Sam sits down at the table and asks, hoping that asking the main question first is the right way to go with this sort of fairy.
“Yes that is my doing, I felt it my due as I have not been paid in many a year now, and now you are both here making an enormous mess all of a sudden.
Especially that one.” He points at Dean and scowls. Dean doesn’t notice of course, just keeps wiping the counters until they’re gleaming. “I believe I am due a rise in pay for the extra work.”
“So, Gilno, let me get this straight, you’ve been cleaning this place all on your own, for all this time, and haven’t ever gotten a raise?”
“Yes sir, that is correct, there are no other Bwca here with me and I have always been paid the same wage for the same work.” Gilno answers, nodding and crossing his arms over his chest.
“Well, that’s not right. I think we can sort something out. What is your current wage?”
“Rights to the place, in and out privileges, and yearly cream allotment. Which hasn’t been paid in so many years now that I’ve lost track of how long it has been. The last I reckoned it was fifty years.”
“Oh, all the time that the Men of Letters weren’t coming you’ve been cleaning and keeping this place up? But they weren’t even alive to pay you anymore. I apologize kind sir, they were all slain in battle with a demon.”
“I had surmised something like that had occurred. I don’t require fifty years’ worth of cream, but I wouldn’t mind it at all if you could pay me extra with some of that frozen cream concoction. I’ve heard tell that it is delicious.”
“Yes, ice cream, of course, no problem. Both of us enjoy it also, we’ll put it permanently on our shopping list so there’ll always be some in the freezer. You just take as much as you need. Oh, we don’t have to put it out for you or anything official like that do we? Because I don’t think you’d want it melted.”
“No, no of course not, I know my way around this kitchen. I shall not take more than I am owed.”
“Of course not, I wouldn’t think that you would. So, Gilno, do we need to make it official or anything?”
“Yes, we should. Just a verbal oath will suffice.”
“I, Samuel Winchester, on behalf of my brother Dean Winchester and on behalf of any who may follow us in occupying this property will hereby continue to pay Gilno for the services he has traditionally rendered, for his services he shall have the traditional rights and privileges for use of this property, as well as a yearly allotment of cream and for a period of five years from now, an additional payment of ice cream.”
Gilno reaches out with his small hand and shakes Sam’s, “Well done sir. Your brother is yours again.”
“Thank you Gilno, I really need him.”
“Yes, I can see that you do.” Gilno says without further comment.
Sam tries not to blush at having yet another magical creature point out their co-dependency issues.
Gilno interrupts his thoughts, “Sam Winchester, I would like to drink a toast with you and Dean tomorrow night, say eleven?” and waves a little over his shoulder as he disappears back into the broom closet.
Sam heads back to their bedroom and finds Dean, completely asleep, his arm is over the space where Sam usually is, and that small worry line is between his eyes. It’s adorable. Sam can’t help but look at him for a while. His big brother, brash and strong, manly man that he is, seeking out Sam like he’s a teddy bear to cuddle with at night. Dean looks so young when he sleeps, the cares and worries that he totes around left behind on the shores of Lethe.
It’s going to be interesting explaining this one to Dean in the morning. Sam bets that he’ll want to drink with Gilno tomorrow night, if only to tease Sam about making up stories about fairies in their new home. Apparently this type of Brownie really enjoys drinking with humans. Who knows, maybe he can even tell them something about the former occupants of the Bat Cave. Sam thinks to himself, he sure wouldn’t mind knowing more about them.
He settles under Dean’s arm, who instantly relaxes, worry line disappearing and small smile forming on his lips. Sam kisses him gently and lies back. Glad that he was able to figure out why Dean was sleep walking, and no bloodshed was required for once, which for them lately is all kinds of amazing.
~FIN~
Author: smalltrolven
Artist: lightthesparks
Relationship: Sam/Dean
Word Count: 3,100
Rating: R
Warnings: Spoilers for up to 8.19
Author Note: Written for the Spn-bigpretzel Spring Fic Exchange for candygramme based on two of her prompts, 1: Dean is sleepwalking. Sam wants to know why. 2: There are fairies in the bat cave, keeping it clean. Their shop steward comes to talk about a raise.
Thanks for the speedy and helpful beta go to the always wonderful stella-lost
Disclaimer: Not my characters only my words.
Synopsis: Dean's sleepwalking, and Sam investigates, discovering the fairy that is supposed to clean the Bat Cave is using Dean in his sleep to do his jobs. A renegotiation of terms of service ensues.
This can also be read over at AO3.
Link to all the awesome art by lightthesparks is here.
~*~*~*~*~*
Sam didn’t notice. Not at first. But when he started waking up coughing blood several times a night, well that’s when he couldn’t help but notice his brother wasn’t sleeping in their bed like he usually did. Dean’s normal routine was to fall asleep and pretty much not move much at all, especially if they’d had sex, which was a nightly thing now. Something about finally being reunited and the worry about the final trial was driving them into each other’s arms more frequently. Neither one was complaining. But maybe Dean wasn’t enjoying it as much as Sam thought he would be. If he’s not in their bed where would he be?
After cleaning up the blood in his mouth, Sam finds some slippers and one of the larger dead guy robes. He still thinks of them that way even though they’d been laundered several times. He finally hears some noise in the kitchen. That makes some sense. Dean does get hungry. A lot lately. Maybe he’s got the munchies for the left over lasagna from dinner. The noises don’t sound like someone eating though, it sounds like mopping? In the middle of the night. Sam rounds the corner and sees Dean wielding the mop. His eyes are at a half slits, and he’s moving a little mechanically. “Dean, hey, what’re you doing?” Sam asks, hoping he doesn’t startle Dean too much.
But there’s no response, Dean just continues mopping, reaching further under the table now.
Sam steps forward and puts a hand on Dean’s shoulder, shaking him gently. “Dean, wake up.”
No response, at all. Sam tries again, right into Dean’s ear, “Dean, c’mon wake up.”
He tries biting and licking Dean’s ear, which usually stops Dean in his tracks no matter what he’s doing. Nothing, no reaction, no shiver, no groan of pleasure.
But there’s nothing, just his brother mindlessly mopping. The floor is almost done now. Maybe he’ll just stop on his own?
Sam sits down wearily at the table and watches him. Back and forth to the sink to rinse out the mop. Finally once he’s done the whole floor he rinses out the mop a final time, wrings it out, and hangs it up in the closet. He shuffles out of the kitchen, across the wet floor and back down the hall towards their room. Sam follows him and sees Dean climbing back into bed, one arm searching the side of the bed that Sam usually is sleeping in. The first expression on Dean’s face that Sam finally sees just now is disappointment, a little worry crease, like he’s worried that Sam’s not in the bed where he left him. Sam climbs in and rolls towards Dean who shifts and molds his body around Sam, finally relaxing. Sam smoothes his hand over Dean’s head, “Just rest Dean, I’ll figure this out.”
~*~*~*~*~*
Sam sleeps in a little longer than usual that morning, and when he wakes up he is surprised to see Dean still there asleep next to him. Dean looks much more tired than usual, those dark purple circles under his eyes showing up so clearly even in the dim light. Looking more closely at his brother’s face, Sam realizes that Dean looks almost as tired as he does. The middle of the night mopping must have been more work for Dean than he thought, it was really taking it out of Dean. Or maybe he’s just too worried about Sam and the last trial. Dean always has trouble sleeping when he’s worried about me. Sam muses to himself.
Before he can stop himself he reaches out to soothe the worry wrinkle from Dean’s brow with one soft finger touch. The only response is a soft sigh from Dean, and his lips curve up in the slightest of smiles. When he sees that smile, Sam can’t resist dragging his finger along the curve of Dean’s lips. This time he gets more of a response, Dean’s tongue flickers out and laps at his finger. Seeing Dean’s red tongue on his finger makes Sam gasp a little with the surprise of Dean’s tongue licking at his sensitive fingertip.
Soon Dean has sucked that finger into his mouth and Sam can’t help letting loose with a deep groan. Finally Dean’s eyes flicker open, meeting his as he parts his lips, releasing Sam’s now very wet finger, “Mornin’.”
Sam leans over and kisses Dean gently, murmuring “Good morning to you,” against Dean’s lips. Dean quickly has his arms wrapped around Sam pulling him in close, expanding the formerly chaste kiss with something much more passionate. Sam can feel the evidence of Dean’s excitement hardening against his hip and he starts moving his leg for Dean, to give him a little extra friction. Dean’s hips start to move more quickly as he’s purposefully rubbing himself against Sam in an almost continuous motion.
“C’mon Sammy.” Dean encourages, pulling Sam’s groin closer to him, grabbing at Sam’s ass with both hands to hold him tight against his hardness. Sam continues kissing Dean deeply, finally breaking off to bite his way down Dean’s neck. Hearing Dean’s groan and feeling his hips speed up faster, Sam bites down harder in that spot that he knows is Dean’s go-to guarantee trigger. Dean is writhing helplessly against him now. Sam joins in the motion, his excitement growing just at the thought of getting from zero to this full body rutting so quickly. It will never cease to amaze him how good it is, having Dean come apart in his arms so easily; like they’re locked-in and automatic pleasure experts for one another.
Dean clenches his hands tighter in the meaty part of Sam’s ass cheeks, pulling them apart and digging in hard enough to leave bruises. Those marks he knows Sam loves to look at in the mirror afterwards, as if he likes having Dean’s mark on him in such an obvious way. Dean knows he’s a possessive bastard, but he loves it too, seeing those dusky red marks on Sam’s perfect ass that say “Dean was here.”
Sam’s desperation to come with Dean is reaching out and pulling him along, their rhythm syncing up until it’s all perfect, the pressure, the heat, the friction of moving against each other. Sam goes back to kiss Dean and that’s all it takes. Their warm wet lips meeting again and Dean’s growl at the back of his throat that he swallows up, has him coming over the edge. Hot, and sparkling clear, he loves this, he needs it, and he takes it from Dean whenever he can.
Dean’s not far behind him, hips finally stuttering to a halt from their ceaseless pumping to grind hard one last time at Sam’s hip until he tightens up all over, releasing on a loud groan. Sam feels the dampness between them increase and knows he’s done. Sam kisses Dean a little more until they’re both needing a chance to breathe.
“Really good morning.” Dean says, still a little breathless.
“Didn’t think you’d be up for that after last night.”
“Last night?” What do you mean?”
“You were cleaning the kitchen at two am dude. I tried to stop you but it was like you weren’t there, you just wouldn’t quit. Like you were sleep-walking but on a mission or something.”
“You’re kidding right? C’mon Sam, me sleep-cleaning? I don’t even like cleaning when I’m awake.”
“Fine don’t believe me, but when you see the kitchen you will. Because you know I didn’t do it.”
“Okay, okay, don’t get your panties in a wad, I just don’t remember that at all. But, maybe that’s why I feel so damn tired.”
“Yeah, you were mopping the whole kitchen floor when I got there. And it looked like you’d already done the counters and stuff. It was really weird Dean, you wouldn’t wake up or talk to me or anything. You just had this blank expression on your face.”
“Weird. Well at least the kitchen’s clean, won’t have to do that today. I’ll have to mess it up and make something good for dinner.” Dean says, shrugging and reaching up to ruffle Sam’s hair.
Sam grabs his hand to stop the hair ruffling and squeezes it hard, “No more sleep-walking okay?”
“Just keep me tired with enough sex and I should sleep just fine.”
“That’s your solution for everything Dean.”
“Hey, you don’t ask, you don’t get.”
“Well, keep asking buddy, see what it gets ya.” Sam laughs at him as he leaves their room heading for the shower.
~*~*~*~*~*
They spend the whole day hanging around the Bat Cave, which Sam at first was refusing to call it, but after Dean’s insistence he finally gave in. With a little grumbling about how there’s supposed to be a fire pole and bats and maybe a super-helpful butler to really make it a Bat Cave. But Sam knows it’s a whole lot easier to go along with Dean on stuff like this. A lifetime of experience tells him that.
Sam looks up a few things about sleep-walking, night-time possession, that sort of thing, but he doesn’t get very far in his researching as Dean tempts him away with some home-made lasagna and some vintage movies on the pull-down screen Dean had found in the War Room. They drag in the comfortable chairs from the library and set up a little watching area. Beers and a bag of cheesy popcorn, and they’re all set. Several black and white detective movies later, Dean’s finally nodded off. Sam shuts down all the equipment and lifts him up under the arms, and helps him walk to bed. He falls asleep quickly too, wrapped around Dean in the hopes that he’ll wake up if Dean decides to go sleep-walking again.
This time apparently it’s time to clean the War Room. Dean’s bumping into all the furniture as he mops around it. The tool moving ceaselessly as he makes his way around the whole room. Again, Sam can’t wake him or even get a response so he waits until Dean decides he’s done and makes sure he gets back into bed.
Dean doesn’t believe him in the morning until Sam shows him the sparkling floor, with no evidence of their popcorn fest or spilled beer from last night.
Sam spends more time on research and thinks they’ve probably got some sort of fairy, not likely anything bad since the Bat Cave is warded against anything and everything. He consults some of the older Men of Letters journals and finds some advice on trapping fairies. Setting up several of those throughout the main floor, he hopes that this will work tonight, because Dean looks so worn out, and he’s already asleep at nine o’clock. Sam realizes that Dean didn’t even tease him once about trying to trap fairies, and that makes him even more worried, because that should be one hundred percent guaranteed brother teasing fodder.
Once again, he crawls into bed with Dean wrapping himself around his deeply asleep brother in the hopes of getting woken up if Dean gets the urge for more cleaning in the night. And yeah it didn’t work last night, but it’s as good an excuse as any to hold Dean close the way he hardly ever gets to. When he’s this worried about his brother, sometimes holding on is the only thing he feels like he can really do.
~*~*~*~*~*
Sam wakes up at 2 AM to hear a loud rattling, it sounds like maybe one of the traps worked. He hurries into the kitchen where Dean is wiping down the countertops this time instead of wielding the mop. Definitely not Dean making the noises, just the wet sounds of a sponge moving on the marble surface. He passes Dean by and heads towards the small kitchen closet where he’d set one of the traps. Opening the door slowly, he hears the rattling stop. “I won’t hurt you, don’t worry.” Sam says, trying to reassure whatever it is that he’s caught.
“Damnably right you will not hurt me! I shall hurt you, you sodding giant!” yells a small little man, about the height of a two year old, but grouchy and grizzled. He’s wearing brown clothing that looks weathered and worn, like it hasn’t been washed in a long time. He’s head to toe brown, deeply tanned brown skin, wrinkled and misshapen. Light brown hair that’s frizzy and messily escaping his brown felt tri-corn hat completes the look.
“Hey, calm down there, I just want to talk okay?”
“For a Man of Letters you certainly do not excel at following the rules!”
“Well, I’m not exactly one of them, my grandfather was, and I guess I was supposed to be. But they all were killed before they passed it on. I don’t know the rules I’m supposed to be following. My name’s Sam by the way, what’s yours and what sort of fairy are you?”
The little man screws up his face like he’s thinking hard, he growls at himself and says, “You may call me Gilno. I am the one in charge of taking care of this place. As I always have been. Your kind usually refers to my kinda as Bwca or Brownie.”
“It’s very nice to meet you Gilno. I wondered why this place was so well kept. Can I let you out of the trap, so we can keep talking more comfortably out here?” Gilno nods so Sam starts unfastening the rowan twigs and sweet-grass that forms the trap.
Gilno steps out of the closet and shakes his feet, jumping up and down. He hops up on a kitchen chair and then up onto the kitchen table, sitting down next to the salt and pepper right in the center.
“So, are you the one making my brother do all the cleaning lately?” Sam sits down at the table and asks, hoping that asking the main question first is the right way to go with this sort of fairy.
“Yes that is my doing, I felt it my due as I have not been paid in many a year now, and now you are both here making an enormous mess all of a sudden.
Especially that one.” He points at Dean and scowls. Dean doesn’t notice of course, just keeps wiping the counters until they’re gleaming. “I believe I am due a rise in pay for the extra work.”
“So, Gilno, let me get this straight, you’ve been cleaning this place all on your own, for all this time, and haven’t ever gotten a raise?”
“Yes sir, that is correct, there are no other Bwca here with me and I have always been paid the same wage for the same work.” Gilno answers, nodding and crossing his arms over his chest.
“Well, that’s not right. I think we can sort something out. What is your current wage?”
“Rights to the place, in and out privileges, and yearly cream allotment. Which hasn’t been paid in so many years now that I’ve lost track of how long it has been. The last I reckoned it was fifty years.”
“Oh, all the time that the Men of Letters weren’t coming you’ve been cleaning and keeping this place up? But they weren’t even alive to pay you anymore. I apologize kind sir, they were all slain in battle with a demon.”
“I had surmised something like that had occurred. I don’t require fifty years’ worth of cream, but I wouldn’t mind it at all if you could pay me extra with some of that frozen cream concoction. I’ve heard tell that it is delicious.”
“Yes, ice cream, of course, no problem. Both of us enjoy it also, we’ll put it permanently on our shopping list so there’ll always be some in the freezer. You just take as much as you need. Oh, we don’t have to put it out for you or anything official like that do we? Because I don’t think you’d want it melted.”
“No, no of course not, I know my way around this kitchen. I shall not take more than I am owed.”
“Of course not, I wouldn’t think that you would. So, Gilno, do we need to make it official or anything?”
“Yes, we should. Just a verbal oath will suffice.”
“I, Samuel Winchester, on behalf of my brother Dean Winchester and on behalf of any who may follow us in occupying this property will hereby continue to pay Gilno for the services he has traditionally rendered, for his services he shall have the traditional rights and privileges for use of this property, as well as a yearly allotment of cream and for a period of five years from now, an additional payment of ice cream.”
Gilno reaches out with his small hand and shakes Sam’s, “Well done sir. Your brother is yours again.”
“Thank you Gilno, I really need him.”
“Yes, I can see that you do.” Gilno says without further comment.
Sam tries not to blush at having yet another magical creature point out their co-dependency issues.
Gilno interrupts his thoughts, “Sam Winchester, I would like to drink a toast with you and Dean tomorrow night, say eleven?” and waves a little over his shoulder as he disappears back into the broom closet.
Sam heads back to their bedroom and finds Dean, completely asleep, his arm is over the space where Sam usually is, and that small worry line is between his eyes. It’s adorable. Sam can’t help but look at him for a while. His big brother, brash and strong, manly man that he is, seeking out Sam like he’s a teddy bear to cuddle with at night. Dean looks so young when he sleeps, the cares and worries that he totes around left behind on the shores of Lethe.
It’s going to be interesting explaining this one to Dean in the morning. Sam bets that he’ll want to drink with Gilno tomorrow night, if only to tease Sam about making up stories about fairies in their new home. Apparently this type of Brownie really enjoys drinking with humans. Who knows, maybe he can even tell them something about the former occupants of the Bat Cave. Sam thinks to himself, he sure wouldn’t mind knowing more about them.
He settles under Dean’s arm, who instantly relaxes, worry line disappearing and small smile forming on his lips. Sam kisses him gently and lies back. Glad that he was able to figure out why Dean was sleep walking, and no bloodshed was required for once, which for them lately is all kinds of amazing.
~FIN~