phantisma: (brothers)
[personal profile] phantisma
Fandom: Supernatural, Broken!Verse (All of Broken is Here)
Title: Destinations, Epilogue
Pairing/Characters: Sam/Dean, John, Caleb/ Gabe (OMC), Allen (OMC), Bobby
Rating: NC-17, for ongoing themes and sex
Word Count: 4382
Summary: The hunters deal with their injuries and the emotional fallout. Allen learns the truth about Gabe and Caleb, who take another step in their relationship and Dean's nightmares lead to Sam trying to comfort him.

A/Ns & Warnings: So...wincesting of the boys, because comforting needs sex. Oh, be quiet. In my world it does. Oh, and I should mention the BDSM: some bondage, a spanking, use of toys. That Caleb? He's one lucky guy!

The hospital had set his leg and wrist, bandaged his wounds, cleaned the mud and blood and gore from his body…and John Winchester didn’t feel any better. His hand kept rising to the back of his neck, to the stitches that hid computer chips and wires that they’d used to control him.

The doctors were still discussing how to remove them without damaging his spinal chord. John sat in a wheelchair in the lobby waiting for Bobby and Gabe. Dean had been released hours before, and Allen and Caleb had gone to find them rooms.

There was so much they didn’t know.

When Bobby and Gabe finally showed up, they looked grim. “You ready?” Bobby asked and John nodded.

“No sign of Gordon.” Bobby said as he helped John into the car. “Ash and Andrew and Bill are all dead. The girl Dean told us about was dead too.”

John nodded, sighed. He wanted to sleep, wanted to close his eyes and make the whole mess just go away. He wanted to forget, to go far away from anyone he might hurt, to end it. His hand ran over the stitches again and he sighed.

When they reached the hotel, it was Bobby who helped him into his room, made sure he had his pain meds, asked him if he needed anything. “I just need to be alone.” John responded, downing two pills without water.

It was wrong, he knew, to feel like this…after everything he’d told Sam…but it was different this time. It wasn’t any old demon, it was the bastard he’d been hunting since Sam was 6 months old. It had been inside him, it had used him. When he closed his eyes, he could still see Sam the way the demon had…the glow inside him, the raw power unleashed when the demon’s hold on him had been released.

Maybe Sam didn’t understand it all just yet, but John had seen it all, from the blood that the bastard had fed him to Mary’s death…the demon hadn’t been ready for Sam to come into the power, hadn’t expected it…but he tasted it…felt it…and it had come for him…just as it had come for Mary.

“So, you going to tell me what’s going on between you and my son?”

Caleb looked up from the gun he was cleaning. Allen’s face was pale, and he’d lost a lot of blood, but he was going to be fine. That didn’t mean Caleb was comfortable with the current arrangements. Sam and Dean were bedded down in one room, with Bobby and John in another, which left Gabe and Caleb sharing with Allen. “No offense, Allen, but maybe that’s a conversation you should have with Gabe.”

“He isn’t here. You are.”

Caleb sighed and put down the cloth to look his friend in the eye. “I can go get him, if you’re gung ho to have this talk right now.”

“I saw the way you touched him.”

Caleb shook his head and stood. “I’m not talking about this.”

“So, there is something going on.”

Caleb stopped at the door and half turned. “I care about Gabe. I care a lot. Is that what you want to hear?”

Allen sighed and Caleb watched him shift around looking for a more comfortable position. “He’s my son.”

Caleb nodded. “And he’s eighteen, and he’s amazing…I’m going to go see if I can get something for dinner.” He didn’t wait for a response, and he sighed once the door was closed. He smiled when he saw Gabe loping toward him, a bag from the pharmacy in his hands.

“Hey, how’s the patient?”

“Nosy.” Caleb said, glancing around them as Gabe got close and pulling him in for a quick kiss. “He knows.”

Gabe stiffened. “He what?”

Caleb shrugged. “Suspects at least. You should talk to him.”

“This is not a conversation I’m ready to have with my father.” Gabe chewed on his lip. “What did you tell him?”

Caleb cupped a hand to Gabe’s cheek. “I told him that I care about you…and that he should ask you if he wants to know more.”

Gabe pouted a little. “Gee thanks…”

Caleb smiled. “I can come in with you, if you want.”

Gabe shook his head, his eyes sparkling as he settled one hand around Caleb’s neck, his thumb against the heartbeat in the big vein. “I’m a big boy.”

“Don’t I know it.” Caleb said softly. “I’m going to see about getting us some dinner.”

“Yeah, good. I’ll go talk to my father.” Gabe watched Caleb go, regretting thinking they could share a room with his father. He was longing to show Caleb how he really felt about the events of the last few days…and he had the tools to do it with too.

Instead, he let himself into the room, shaking the bag with it’s pills. “Want one now?”

Allen shook his head. “I want to talk.”

Gabe sighed and nodded. “Caleb said you might.”

“Yeah…about Caleb—“

Gabe raised his hands. He knew the best way to deal with this was head on. “Yeah, Caleb.” He looked his father in the eye. “So, here’s the thing, Dad. Caleb and I are…together. Like a couple.”

Allen crossed his arms. “Like a couple?”

Gabe sighed. “Together.”

“You’re having sex?” Allen asked and Gabe flushed bright red.

“God! Dad…I was trying to make this easy.” Gabe paced away. “I’m 18. And it isn’t his fault.”

“I wasn’t laying blame, Gabe.”

Gabe shook his head, pacing around the small room. “He—I—damn this hard.”

“Are you in love with him?”

Gabe deflated, collapsing into a chair. “I’m not sure? I mean…I care about him…you know? But…we’re…just kind of taking things as they come. Okay?”

Allen nodded. “Okay. You’re being careful?”

Gabe rolled his eyes, but nodded. “I don’t mean just the sex, Gabe. If this is going to be your first serious relationship, I don’t want to see you get hurt. He is older than you.”

“So…you aren’t angry?” Gabe dared a look, but his father’s face was open, jovial even.

“I’ve always known you wouldn’t be a traditional kid, Gabe. If Caleb makes you happy, that makes me happy.”

Gabe exhaled slowly and nodded. “He does. He really does.”

Allen swung his feet over the side of the bed and stood slowly. “I’m going to bunk with Bobby and John, I think. Give you two some space. I think I made him nervous.”

“Caleb respects you. Right from the start he’s been worried about how you would take this.” Gabe said.

“As he should be. I reserve the right to be intimidating when my boy is dating.”

Gabe rolled his eyes and moved to help his father gather his things. “Right…don’t go getting ahead of yourself. I didn’t say you were intimidating. You’re not John Winchester.”

Sam sat in the overstuff chair in the corner of the room. He had the blinds drawn, the lights off, his body crammed as tightly into the chair as he could manage, his knees bent and tucked in against his chest, his head resting on his knees, his eyes locked on the sleeping form of his brother.

It was over.

The men responsible for what happened to Dean were dead. The damn demon sent back to hell for the time being.

Sam’s head swam with images from the dreams that came whenever he closed his eyes. His body hummed with power he didn’t understand. He was almost afraid to move. Almost.

He chewed on the tip of his thumb…the fingernail was already chewed down and now he was just biting on dead skin. He had discovered a few things. He was still sorting through them, when he could think past the images and feelings.

This wasn’t something the demon had done to him. The demon had bottled it up, walled it off. The exorcism had pulled that wall down. This had something to do with his mother…something he couldn’t place.

Dean stirred, whimpered and shifted. Sam could pick out each mark on his body, even in the dark. He watched Dean’s face tense up, his chest rise and fall. Slowly, he loosened his body, lowered his feet. He moved across the space and laid down beside Dean…not touching him, but close. Dean’s body relaxed and he turned toward Sam.

Sam breathed in, the cool smell of the anti-biotic ointment on Dean’s stomach wounds, the vague remnants of cilantro from the burrito he insisted on eating before he would go to sleep…the warm, familiar scent of Dean. He closed his eyes and tried to hold that scent and all that it meant while he let his exhaustion pull him toward sleep.

“Gabe?” Caleb opened the door slowly. “Everyone’s in John’s room…well, everyone but Sam and Dean.”

The room was dim, only the corner light on, shining off of Gabe’s blonde hair. Gabe’s eyes tracked him as he entered the room and Caleb definitely got the feeling that things had changed. “I left dinner over there.”

“Not interested in dinner.” Gabe said, his voice giving Caleb a hint of what Gabe was interested in.

The shadows moved and Gabe’s hand came up, one finger crooked through the buckle of the collar. The black leather dangled there in the space between them. Caleb stared at it for a long time, then lifted his eyes to meet Gabe’s.

“What about your father?”

“He’s moved in with Bobby and John.”

Caleb nodded, turning away only to hang the “Do Not Disturb” sign and throw the lock on the door. “You’re still angry.” There was no challenge in the words, just a simple observation of the facts. He crossed to stand in front of Gabe, knowing that this might be the moment that pushed them further into this thing…past simple games and scenes…this was the first time Gabe was bringing something that happened outside of the bedroom into the bedroom.

Gabe didn’t answer, just waited. He sat motionless and poised, like someone far older…like someone entirely comfortable with what he was asking. Caleb took a deep breath and eased to his knees in front of him, bowing his head and waiting.

He expected to feel the collar slide around his neck, but instead it was Gabe’s hand, on the top of his head, caressing, soft. He slid it down to Caleb’s chin and lifted his face. “Tell me you want this?” There was the tiniest bit of uncertainty in his voice.

“You know I do, Gabe.” Caleb answered softly.

Gabe shook his head lightly. “Not…just…stealing moments in motel rooms, Caleb…that’s not enough.”

“What are you asking?” Caleb felt his stomach lurch. He wanted Gabe, that much he was sure of…he licked his lips and waited.

Gabe sighed. “I asked you not to go in without backup. You could have been killed.”

Caleb relaxed a little. This he understood. “I couldn’t let Dean go in alone.”

Gabe’s eyes closed. “I know,” he said after a few minutes. “I was scared. I didn’t like it.”

Caleb lifted his chin. “I know, Gabe.”

Gabe nodded and Caleb felt the collar slide around his neck, felt the buckle cold against his skin. His perception changed, that shift of awareness that always came with the collar. Gabe’s hand rested on the back of his head, drawing him forward. His kiss was gentle, though Caleb knew from experience that wouldn’t last.

Part of Gabe needed the release of the control, just as Caleb needed the release of letting that control go. “Take off the clothes and get on the bed, on your knees.”

Caleb stood, pulling at his clothes and getting out of them as fast as he could. When he was naked he looked for Gabe, but his back was turned, his hands fussing with something in his bag. Caleb moved onto the bed, on his knees facing the headboard. That was when he noticed that Gabe had been busy in his absence.

“You remember your word.” Gabe said as he came to the head of the bed and Caleb nodded reflexively. “Say it.”

“Fiddle.” Caleb said, his eyes widening as he saw what was in Gabe’s hands. The restraints he had expected when he saw the hook in the headboard. It was something they’d talked about…about how the sight of them turned Gabe on…how they symbolized the lose of power, maybe more so than the collar…Caleb had issues with handcuffs and rope, but these were leather cuffs, a good three inches thick and padded.

There was a brief thrill of panic in his heart and he almost pulled back when Gabe reached for his wrist with the first one. Gabe’s eyes met his, searching, asking without words. Caleb took a deep breath and nodded and Gabe set about buckling them around his wrists and then linking them together.

Before he raised the joined hands to the hook, Gabe leaned in and kissed him…focused and almost hard, drawing Caleb’s attention away from his hands. “You okay?” Gabe asked softly and Caleb nodded again, his eyes darting to the other item that had come with the restraints. Gabe looked at it too, his eyes sparkling. Slowly he hooked the restraints to the hook and lifted the new toy.

Like the cuffs, it was black leather, about as wide as Gabe’s palm, with a wooden handle that fit so snuggly in Gabe’s hand it could have been carved to order. Gabe held it up, examining it and Caleb’s reaction to it.

“I bought it when we were in Houston…but we haven’t had the chance to try it out.” Gabe brought the flat surface of the paddle in contact with Caleb’s shoulder and stroked it down over his back, over the round of his ass where he stopped, holding it there. “I thought we’d go easy at first.”

Caleb jumped with the first blow, though it was little more than a tap. Gabe was new to this part. He’d come to Caleb at the motel outside of Houston with research and a list of things that he’d found, all shy and almost embarrassed. The kid was good at observing what each of the items on his list did to Caleb, even though he’d tried hard to keep on an even keel.

The second blow was harder. Caleb was starting to harden, and Gabe’s free hand was there between his legs, wrapped around his cock. The introduction of the cock ring wasn’t unexpected…Gabe had come to love the control it gave him. He snapped it around Caleb, then kissed a line up his back. “I have one more surprise.”

There was cold and wet, a finger inserted into him…then it was withdrawn and something thicker and longer entered him. Gabe moved it, angled it, pressed it in until Caleb responded with an involuntary moan as it pressed against his prostate. Then it started to vibrate. Caleb’s dick strained against the cock ring immediately and he found himself trembling as the paddle caressed his skin.

The paddle whooshed in the air when Gabe swung it, and it connected with his left ass cheek solid, stinging…enough to bring tears to his eyes. He exhaled and waited for the next one. Just as he started to relax, it came, on the same cheek, making him lurch forward, dragging his cock against the sheets.

Gabe pulled him back and the vibration in his ass increased. “Fuck.” Caleb breathed. The next two blows were in quick succession to the right side, almost off on his hip. Then Gabe’s tongue laved over the stinging skin. It was hot, and soothing…until the next blow hit wet skin. Gabe yelled and lurched forward, then back as the tip of his over-hard cock pressed into the bed and he saw stars.

The vibrations turned up again and Caleb bit his tongue to keep from yelling out. There was another blow, and the plug in his ass was pressed harder into him. “Fuck!” He was really starting to shake now…his skin burned, he was gasping for air. It was too much.

The bed moved and he could feel Gabe’s body behind him, over him, pressed against his back, heat and sting and need pouring out of him as the plug came loose and was replaced with Gabe’s cock, hard and deep and Caleb shook his head as Gabe pushed in and pulled out, only to slam in hard again.

Gabe’s hands held his hips, his fingers digging into Caleb’s skin as he fucked into him, pushing them closer to the headboard. Gabe’s pace was brutal, his cock plunging fast and banging Caleb’s sweet spot until he was sure he was going to black out or come despite the fucking cock ring…and when Gabe came, Caleb could feel it burn into him, oozing out of him, around Gabe as he withdrew, panting.

Then, he was gone and Caleb couldn’t feel him or see him. He didn’t move, his knees spread wide, his ass oozing come, his hands bound to the headboard. Gabe was still panting when he came to the side of the bed, his hand sliding over Caleb’s sweat slicked back. “I like you like this, Caleb.” Gabe whispered. “Your ass is all red, and my come is all over it…and you look totally fucked.” His words made Caleb shiver…made him aware he was still hard…still caged…and Gabe’s kiss was possessive and claiming. “All for me…” His hand slid down Caleb’s chest, belly…wiggled through pubic hair…wrapped around his cock…

“Please.” Caleb gasped, closing his eyes.

Gabe moved, shifted, then his mouth closed over the tip of Caleb’s cock, sucking until Gabe whimpered. “God…please…Gabe…”

The suction never let up, but the pressure did, the cock ring released and with it, Caleb’s orgasm, spilling into Gabe’s mouth as Caleb groaned. Then Gabe was slithering up under him, pulling his mouth down into a kiss filled with come. His hands were lifted up and off the hook, but Gabe made no move to remove the restraints, just moved them to the other bed and laying them down to sleep.

As Gabe spooned up around him, drawing him close and murmuring softly, Caleb sighed and closed his eyes, not really willing to think about how safe he could feel like this, in the arms of an eighteen year old boy.

Sam’s first thought when he woke was that he hadn’t dreamed…there had been no images of people dying and demons possessing and coming disasters. He’d curled up beside Dean and slept…really slept. It gave him a feeling of control he hadn’t felt since he couldn’t remember when.

His next thought though was that he was alone in the bed, and the spot where Dean had been was cold, so he’d been gone a while. He heard a whimper, and lifted up, bracing his elbow on the bed to look around the room. At first he didn’t see him, the shadows and the battered dresser hiding him, but he was whispering to himself there in the corner.


Now that he knew where he was, Sam could see Dean was shaking, shivering, naked and all curled in on himself. His heart stopped, remembering the way he’d shut down before, the way he’d been when their father had carried him up from the creek in the rain. In the last months Dean had been…Dean…so much so that Sam wasn’t sure he could handle it if he regressed again.

He pulled the blanket aside and stood, padding softly toward his brother. “Dean?”

This time Dean stiffened, his whole body stilling, his face rising from the pillow of his folded arms. It was too dark to see his eyes, but his expression was filled with fear. Sam licked his lips and squatted down beside him, not touching. “You okay, Dean?”

Nothing. No One. Alone.

Dean didn’t say it, but Sam felt it. Like it was there in the air between them.

“Dreams.” Dean finally breathed through clenched teeth.

“Memories?” Dean’s head dropped back to his arms, his body resuming its shaking. “Dean?” Sam reached a hand out tentatively, his stomach churning. He touched the top of Dean’s head and recoiled. He was burning up and Sam’s head was filled with the overwhelming sensation of hands and chains and beatings. The voice of Master James, the taunting of Razz and Thomas, the snap of the whip, the clanging of the cage door…the feeling of choking on a cock too big, too many, too much…

Dean sobbed and curled in tighter. Sam took a deep breath to steady himself. “Dean…” He braved a second touch, riding out the initial wave and finding a way to block the sensations away…images and sounds, feelings and smells and tastes…pushing it away, breathing through it until he could think past it. “Dean…I’m right here…stay with me.”

Dry sobs quacked through Dean as Sam lowered himself to sit, moving his legs to surround Dean and draw him into the protective circle of his arms. “Come here Dean. Can you tell me?”

He raised his head again, his eyes filled with hurt and anguish and memory as he licked his lips. “Don’t want to remember, Sammy.”

“I know, I know Dean.” Sam soothed a hand down over his brother’s head. “I know you don’t.”

Dean leaned into Sam, resting his head on his shoulder. “He made me watch.”

Somehow Sam knew he meant Ash. “I was…God Sam.” His hand fisted in Sam’s shirt. Sam’s arms tightened around him. “Fuck! Fuck!” Dean shivered and shook his head. “Make it go away….I don’t want it Sam…I don’t want…”

Sam kissed him to make the words stop, to make the panic rising in his stomach stop…the despair was too real, too deep, too fucking familiar…”Stay with me Dean. Focus on me.” Sam said, his hands moving to hold his brother’s face. “Right here.” He kissed him again, and slowly felt Dean respond. “Forget the rest, Dean.” Sam whispered it over Dean’s lips, their foreheads pressed together. “Just don’t leave me again…please don’t leave me again.”

Dean’s kiss tasted of his desperation, his need to hold on to something so that he didn’t get sucked back into the memories. It made Sam wish Ash had survived, so that he could kill him himself…so he could hold him down and fuck his ass and cut his dick off and then tie him down for his animals to rip apart.

The dresser rattled beside them and Sam realized his anger was ratcheting out of control. With a deep breath, he forced his attention back to Dean who was trying to pull Sam’s shirt up and off now. “Shh…easy Dean…I’ve got it.”

Sam pulled the shirt off and tossed it aside, and Dean was instantly on top of him, knocking him over backward as his mouth traveled over Sam’s chest. “Dean…slow…there’s no hurry…” Dean climbed up Sam until he could reach his mouth, no less desperate, his hands holding Sam’s head as his tongue sought out Sam’s.

“Touch me Sammy…” Dean’s hands slid down Sam’s arms and dragged his hands up to rub over Dean’s chest. “Touch me.” Dean’s ass rubbed over Sam’s cock and all the energy in his body rushed to the spot. Dean’s eyes were wild with need, eating into Sam. “Want to fuck you Sammy.” Dean whispered fervently. “Can I? God Sammy…need to feel you…”

Dean pulled away, his hands dragging Sam’s shorts down and off. He spit in one hand and rubbed it onto his dick, nudging Sam’s legs apart with the other. Sam tried to keep up, tried to ease the frantic pace, but Dean was already ahead of him, already kneeling between his legs, already pressing in…and Sam exhaled and just worked on not tensing up while Dean pushed in and got a rhythm started…then he reached for Dean, drawing him down to kiss away the litany of words falling from his lips…make it go away….Sammy….god, Sammy…please…don’t want to know…fuck…fuck…please…Sammy.

Sam tilted his hips into Dean’s thrust and whispered again and again back to him…right here, Dean…forget it all…come back to me…stay with me…right here Dean.

His come was hot and thick…but Dean’s frantic whispering hadn’t ended…just changed tone and Dean was sliding out, sliding up, guiding Sam’s cock toward his own hole, using his come to lube it and moaning loud as he sank down onto Sam. fuck me Sam…need you…need you…make it go away…please Sammy…please.

Sam arched his back and thrust up, then grabbed his brother’s hips and rolled them so that Dean’s back was on the floor, his knees bent, and Sam could snap in hard against Dean’s prostate until Dean’s fevered whispers lost all coherency and his cock was rigid and oozing a clear liquid and he was screaming and Sam was coming.

Sam saw stars, collapsing forward onto Dean while they both panted…Sam recovered first though and pulled out and away, rolling clear before getting to his feet and going to the bathroom for a washcloth. Dean was quiet, but he let Sam clean him up and guide him back to the bed where Sam checked his bandages and gave him one of each of his pills with a glass of water. As Sam pulled the blankets up around Dean, Dean snorted.

“What?” Sam asked, tossing the washcloth across the room.

“You…all Mommy Sam. You going to kiss me on the forehead too?”

Sam looked at him, the red rimmed eyes, and cheeks still damp…”I might, you know, if you need it.” Sam said, circling the bed. He slid in beside Dean who immediately rolled toward him. “Dean, you have stitches in your stomach.”

“Yeah, but that rug burned my back.” Dean responded sleepily, putting his head on Sam’s pillow.

“Next time you need to have sex after a crying jag, do it in a bed then.” Sam said, shaking his head and settling in.

Dean lifted his head and looked at Sam a little strangely. “Was I crying?”

He looked young and vulnerable there looking down at Sam. “You said you had dreams…memories.”

Dean frowned. “It’s all blurry.”

Sam propped himself up on his elbows. “You don’t remember?”

“It was ugly…and I was afraid…but it’s all blurry….does it matter?”

Sam kissed him lightly and laid back down, pulling Dean with him. “No Dean. It doesn’t matter at all.”

Cross posted to GJ, IJ, JF, and LJ
Anonymous( )Anonymous This account has disabled anonymous posting.
OpenID( )OpenID You can comment on this post while signed in with an account from many other sites, once you have confirmed your email address. Sign in using OpenID.
Account name:
If you don't have an account you can create one now.
HTML doesn't work in the subject.


Notice: This account is set to log the IP addresses of everyone who comments.
Links will be displayed as unclickable URLs to help prevent spam.
Page generated Oct. 19th, 2017 01:28 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios