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Entry tags:
Finally Home, Part 2; Supernatural, Keeper!Verse, NC-17 (this part)
Fandom: Supernatural, Keeper!Verse
Title: Finally Home, Part 2 (All Keeper Verse Here)
Rating: NC-17 (for this partl)
Word Count: 12,444 (total)
Pairings/Characters: Sam/Dean (long term established wincest), John, Dana (Dean's daughter) Scott
Summary: Sam and Scott confront the demons who have laid a claim to Scott, and Dean revisits an old memory.
A/Ns & Warnings: This story pics up shortly after Losing Sam, Arc 3. There are four parts, all complete. I will be posting them over the next few days. There is some angst and some funny and Dana acting decidedly like an 18 year old with her first taste of freedom, and a little bit of sex and a whole lot of schloomp at the end. As ever in Keeper!verse, thanks go to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
shotofjack for the beta of awesome and for keeping me sane. *loves*
Scott had been a little freaked out before Sam showed up. The level of freak climbed when Sam showed up. Now? He was pretty sure he was approaching the stratosphere. Sam was pacing and Scott wasn’t sure what he should be doing. Sam being nervous sent Scott’s level of anxiety from minor underlying panic into full on nervous breakdown.
Sam didn’t get nervous. Sam didn’t freak out.
Scott stopped biting his nails when he realized he was chewing on his fingers. And it hurt.
“Okay, this is kind of my fault.” Sam said, stopping mid pace to look at Scott. “I meant to warn you, set you up before you left…but then…you know.”
Then Sam had been attacked. Nearly killed. “Set me up?”
Sam looked uncomfortable. He chewed on his lip, than sat on the bed. “Okay, I have a confession to make.”
“I’m not going to like this.” Scott said, sitting in his desk chair. His ass was no sooner in the seat and his knee was bouncing. He couldn’t look at Sam, kept looking at his watch.
“I don’t…when you were first dating Dana, I…marked you.”
“You what?” Scott shook his head. It didn’t make sense. He’d always been vaguely aware that Sam had some gifts, like Dana’s…only not as intense.
Sam rubbed his face. “I never told Dana. I never even told Dean. I’m not…proud exactly, but I’d do it again.”
“Stop with the soft-soaping and tell me what the fuck you mean.”
“I pulled you aside after track practice one day and…went into your head. I put some controls in place, in case we needed to…keep you quiet, put you down, then I made you forget.”
“Keep me quiet? Put me down?” It sounded ominously like Sam was trying to say that he could kill him with a thought. “You booby trapped my head?”
Sam smiled at that. “Sort of. I buried it pretty deep, just in case Dana ever went snooping…but it’s there. It’s a…switch, for a lack of better word, it gives me the power to control you. I’ve never used it.”
“My life is too fucking weird.” Scott muttered. “And I’ve been walking around with this thing inside me?”
“Well, it is actually going to work in our favor. It’s been there since before you starting thinking about Stanford seriously. Before you met with their recruiter, which is probably when they marked you.”
“But why me?” He didn’t get it. He wasn’t psychic. He didn’t have a ton of money or influence.
“Genetics.” Sam said, making Scott look up. Sam kind of shrugged. “You have good genes…Olympic athletes, doctor, they’ve probably already picked out your mate.”
“Mate? As in…mates…like married?” Scott shook his head. “Dana is never going to let me live this down.”
“She doesn’t ever have to know.” Sam reassured. He stood. “Okay, come over here and lay down, I need to go in and open stuff up. You’re going to have to trust me.”
“Like I have a choice?” Trust wasn’t’ really high on his list of things he was feeling at the moment. “No offense, dude, but you can’t really expect me to just…let you do shit to my head.”
Of course, it occurred to him that Sam could do it anyway, whether he let him or not. That didn’t really help with the trust issues.
“Scott, I realize you’re freaked out, and you don’t understand what’s happening, but let me try to help you understand your options here. You can do as I say and let me help you and there’s a good chance Ambrose will be forced to release you. You can fight me, and I can put you down and force you, and trust me that won’t be pleasant for you. Or, you can take your chances with Ambrose and his plans for you, which will be far less pleasant than anything I might do to you.”
Scott paced, chewed on his lip and watched Sam. He started when Sam’s phone rang.
“Hey. No, I’m with him now.” Sam turned away. “They’ve got their claws in pretty deep, but I think I can win, if Scott will stop fighting me. We meet them at midnight.”
Scott wasn’t consciously trying to listen, but it was a small room. He sat on the edge of the bed and chewed on his fingers.
“You might want to rent us a car. He’s probably coming with us when this is over.”
Scott felt eyes and looked up. Sam was looking at him, weighing him. “Yeah, sounds good. I’ll find you when it’s over.”
Sam hung up and sighed. “So?”
Scott still wasn’t sure he trusted Sam in his head. Still, he lay down, flopping his hands against the mattress.
“Relax, this isn’t going to hurt.”
“Easy for you to say.”
Sam smiled down at him. “Yes, it is. Close your eyes.”
Scott blew out and tried to relax as he closed his eyes. Sam’s hand was over his eyes, then everything sort of tilted under him and dizziness sucked him under.
Charles Gildmore wasn’t your traditional good looking guy. He was a science geek, with a major in physics and a minor in biology. He was a year older than Dana, and already a junior. She’d latched onto him when he had assisted her biology professor the first week of classes. He had this definitely geeky sort of charm, with wavy hair that wasn’t really blond and wasn’t brown, and he tucked it behind his ears when he was concentrating.
She couldn’t explain why she found that so endearing, but it made her want to kiss him every time.
“Dana?”
“Hmmm?” She blinked and realized her staring was making him uncomfortable. “I was just….your glasses. I really like them.”
He rolled his eyes at her. “Are you flirting? Cause, if you’re flirting, you should know I’m not good at it.”
She grinned at him. “Would you like me to flirt?”
“I thought we were studying.”
“Project’s not due for two weeks.” Dana countered. “I learn fast.” She scanned him, very superficially. She just wanted to know if he was interested. She got a flush of very warm, slight arousal and nodded to herself.
It’s not that she was a slut…she just had decided to enjoy being away from the ever-watchful eye of Sam and her father, to explore what it was that did turn her on. And she had to move quick, before all the best paths to explore had been conquered by her roommate, or the other sluts on the floor.
He leaned in close, his mouth near hers. “I’ll tell you what, Ms. Winchester, learn something and I’ll let you flirt.”
“Oh, I think you’re better at this than you think.” Dana said in a whisper.
Yes, Charles Gildmore was definitely going to be fun.
Sam was nervous, maybe more than he even wanted to admit to himself. He centered for the fifth time in as many minutes. The grove was neutral ground. It had been home to trials and mediations as far back as there had been people on the land.
Scott was quiet beside him, mostly because Sam had a really firm grip on him. He’d activated all of his controls and was engaging all of them to keep Scott from bolting. They were alone, but there were still a few minutes until midnight.
His last visit to this grove had been after meeting Dean. He’d brought his claim on Dean for verification. It was before he’d learned who Dean was. He just knew that he wanted him, in every way possible, and didn’t ever want it to be contested.
Shortly after that, he’d gone home for Christmas to Boston, and never came back.
Sam drew in a deep breath and opened his eyes as he felt another person approaching. He stood slowly, drawing Scott up too.
“Samuel Winchester. We thought to never see you again.”
She glided out of the trees, seeming to step out of the night itself. Milk white eyes pinned him as she came closer, a vague smile on her lips. “We see the years have been kind.”
Sam inclined his head. “Gelinna. I am honored that you have come.”
“Such a request, from the infamous rebel…and the taste of goodness that came to us through the phone. We were intrigued.” Her dark hair wrapped around her like a garment, all the way to her knees.
Sam relaxed. If she could tell over the phone how much he had changed, and had come anyway, he might stand a chance.
“Is this the boy?”
“Yes, Scott Wu.”
She circled Scott, and he could feel her enveloping him with her own gifts, testing Sam, testing Scott. “Indeed.”
She backed off and seemed to settle into herself while they waited. There was a rustling of leaves and another like Gelinna glided out of the dark. Her eyes were also milk white, her hair a softer brown and likewise wrapped around her. Behind her Ambrose and the girl walked out.
The girl sidled up to Scott, her eyes black. She looked him over, then directed her attention at Sam, licking her lips.
“You haven’t tasted him.”
Sam’s eyes narrowed and he gave her a little psychic shove. “He’s not for me. Or you, for that matter.”
She raised an eyebrow and might have challenged him further, but Ambrose called her. “Come Melanie. Let us have the mediators do their job.”
Gelinna nodded to the other woman. “We have done our preliminary reading.”
The other one glided over the mossy ground. “We are Jotell. You are Samuel Winchester.”
Sam inclined his head. He double checked his controls. He was going to have a lot of memory to clean up for the kid when this was over…or a lot of questions to answer. “I am. This is Scott Wu. My claim has been usurped by Ambrose and the girl.”
“We shall see.” She turned to Scott, much as Gelinna had. She dug a little deeper, eliciting a pained response from Scott. It wasn’t a comfortable process by any means, even for an adept. “Release him.”
“I am controlling his anxiety. He is unaccustomed to—“
She looked him full in the face, her head tilting slightly. “We said, release him.”
Sam acquiesced, easing away from the controls and flicking the switch to return control to Scott. His eyes widened, his heartbeat sped up. He looked at Jotell, then at Sam. She turned to Scott again, reaching into his mind and sorting through the various marks.
Scott was just this side of a total shut down, Sam could sense it. Just when Sam thought Jotell was actually going to push him to it, she backed off. She nodded to Sam, then returned to Gelinna’s side.
They conferred silently for a long time. Scott inched closer to Sam.
Sam got the impression that Scott would have hidden behind him if he could. He put his arm around the boy, a bit of physical grounding. The two mediators lifted their heads and spoke together. “Scott Wu, we would speak with you.”
Panic spiked through Scott. “It’s okay. They won’t hurt you.” Sam whispered, encouraging him forward.
Scott rubbed at his head and moved slowly toward them. “Do you acknowledge either of these claims?’
“I…didn’t know about them…I wasn’t told.”
“And now you have been.” Jotell said.
Scott nodded. “I…Sam. I acknowledge Sam.”
Good boy. Sam sighed a little.
“Do you understand the implications of this claim?” Gelinna asked.
Scott shook his head, his eyes darting between them.
“If we confirm his claim, you will forever belong to him, and he will always retain the power to control you. This can not be undone.” Jotell told him.
“Though such power may be transferred if he does indeed hold you in preparation for mating.” Gelinna added.
Scott looked over his shoulder at Sam, and Sam could see the look of fear in his eyes, but in this, he was on his own.
“If I have to choose him or them with that power, I’ll take Sam.” Scott said, finally looking back at them.
“Our claim is binding.” Melanie said abruptly. “He was very willing. He participated.”
“He’s an eighteen year old boy and you offered him sex. Did you think he wouldn’t accept?” Sam snorted. “Really, Ambrose, your training is slipping. It isn’t like he was a virgin. He didn’t give you anything he didn’t already give the one I am holding him for.”
“We have seen all we need.” Jotell said, silencing everyone. “While both claims are strong, and bound with sexual magic, the claim that was made first clearly has precedence.”
“Scott Wu, you are given to Samuel Winchester, and shall abide under his protection and his control until such time as he sees fit to pass that control to another.” Ginella continued.
“Should he choose to relinquish said protection and control without passing it to the chosen Mate, all said rights will return to Ambrose Devlin.” Jotell finished.
Melanie started to protest, but Ambrose silenced her, bowing respectfully to the two women.
“Thank you.” Sam said, bowing himself before stepping forward to regain control of Scott. It would be better for all of them if Scott was silent and obedient while Sam cleaned up the last of the details. He didn’t trust Ambrose to leave it at this. Not that Sam dared to make a first strike, but it became clear very quickly he wasn’t going to have to.
Ginella and Jotell were scarcely gone when Ambrose attacked, first psychically, then physically. The knife sang through the air, and Sam pushed Scott out of the way before batting it away with a defensive wall, slamming it into a tree.
“Still can’t play by the rules, eh Ambrose?” Sam threw the wall toward his nemesis, surrounding him in a mesh of psychic energy before turning to Melanie who was gathering her own force of will around her. Sam pushed her hard, sending her back, just outside the neutral barrier, right into the devil’s trap he had drawn before the whole thing got rolling.
She screamed and threw herself at the barrier. Sam chuckled and watched her struggle for a second, then turned his attention to Ambrose, who had gone still and would soon run out of breathable air. He already had fallen to his knees.
Sam squatted next to him. “I’m not the scared little boy I was when I attended this university. Fortunately for you, I’m not the evil son-of-a-bitch I was when I left either.” He waved a hand and let Ambrose loose. He collapsed to the ground. “Get out of Stanford, Ambrose. Or, I will come back and finish you.”
Sam stood and left the grove, Scott following behind him. They left campus and once clear of it, Sam stopped them, quieting himself and centering and reaching out for Dean. It was comforting, the feeling of Dean as Sam brushed against his mind to get his attention, then opening their connection. It felt good, warm…safe. But Dean was distracted.
He frowned, then headed them toward the place where he felt Dean. Sam was uneasy, impatient and playing with his phone. He itched to call Dean, but he was trying to get a read for why Dean was there…standing outside the bar where they’d met. He nearly forgot Scott in his distraction, but Scott followed obediently without a word.
Dean felt him coming and looked up, guilt fleeting across his face. He was leaning against a black sedan, presumably their ride home. Sam looked at him, then up at the sign above the bar. “Why here?”
Dean shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess…full circle, and all that. We met here.”
Sam made a face. “The man you met here…he wasn’t me.”
Dean nodded, then shook his head. “The man I met here was hot and horny. Smart.”
“Evil. Manipulative.” Sam moved closer, slid his arm around Dean’s shoulder. “You on the other hand…you were the most beautiful man I had ever seen. I wanted you from the moment I laid eyes on you.”
Dean gave up staring at the bar and turned in Sam’s arms. “And all these years later, you still have me. Only now, I’m an old man with a daughter in college.”
“Still the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.” Sam whispered, sliding his lips over Dean’s. “Still want you so much it hurts.” Dean’s mouth opened under his and Sam licked into it, earning a moan.
“Scott.” Dean whispered, his eyes tracking over Dean’s shoulder to where the poor kid was standing, staring numbly at the sidewalk.
“Got him locked down so tight, I could fuck you against this car and he wouldn’t know.”
Dean snorted. “Right and get us both arrested? How would we explain that to Dana?” He pushed Sam away. “I got us a room. We can pack Scott up in the morning and head home.”
Sam was very happy to see that Dean hadn’t chosen the same run down motel as that first fateful night, in some misguided nostalgic fit. That might have been a little more than he could handle. It was strange, finally being back there. None of the normal panic had surfaced, not even when he’d spotted Ambrose.
Dean stopped the car in front of a very nice hotel and Sam let go of the controls on Scott just enough that he could get himself up and out of the car and into the room. It was late, just past one a.m. and Sam was tired, but he knew better than to leave Scott free to remember the way everyone had called him “Winchester”…though, so far it hadn’t seemed to register. Like Scott already thought of him as a Winchester, somehow.
“Can we maybe move the doorstop?” Dean asked, bumping his hip and gesturing at Scott with his chin. Scott stood dully in the way of getting the door closed.
Sam sighed and nodded. “Scott, come sit on the bed.”
“Any reason you’ve still got him so controlled?” Dean asked once he had the door secured with the standard lock, plus a solid rod of steel braced against a block of concrete, plus a line of salt and a nice sigil of protection to boot.
“Any reason you’ve got us locked in here like hell itself is coming after us?”
Dean shrugged, but Sam could tell he was a little tense. “I asked first.”
Sam nodded and looked at Scott. “I need to…blur some stuff.”
“Blur?” Dean was frowning at him and crossing to his side.
“They all knew me as Sam Winchester, Dean. Scott heard them.”
“You think he’ll remember?” Dean’s arms slid around his waist, his mouth chasing a line only Dean could see over Sam’s left shoulder.
“Better safe than sorry.”
“Told you you’d always be a Winchester, Sammy.” Dean whispered. His breath moved over Sam’s neck, ruffling his hair. He pulled the ponytail aside and kissed over his neck. “Always. No matter what your ID says.”
“Dean.” Sam was finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate with Dean’s tongue in his ear.
“Want to do more of that kissing thing.” Dean’s voice made Sam shiver. “And the licking thing too.”
“Scott.” Sam’s voice squeaked and he cleared his throat. “Scott, go into the bathroom and don’t come out until I come get you.” He pressed in on the controls in the kid’s head and he rose without hesitation, disappearing behind the bathroom door.
“Nice trick.” Dean laughed, turning Sam around and pulling him into a kiss that slipped tongues over and around, sliding in and out until Sam pulled back and threw Dean onto the bed.
“That’s ‘nough talking.” Sam’s hands pulled at Dean’s shirts, finally getting them loose from his jeans and yanking them up.
Dean’s skin was warm, tan and firm under Sam’s hands. He crawled over Dean’s legs to lick from Dean’s navel up to his chin. Dean’s fingers pulled the elastic that held Sam’s hair neatly at the nape of his neck, then pulled through his hair, gripping and pulling Sam’s mouth to his own.
Sam tried to get Dean’s pants open without breaking the kiss, but the zipper eluded him and he had to pull back, look down. Dean pulled Sam’s shirt up and over his head while Sam worked on his pants, finally freeing Dean’s cock which was half way to hard.
Sam wasted nothing in getting to it, opening his mouth and swallowing Dean before his pants were even down. He swirled his tongue around and over and slid down and up until Dean’s cock was swelling and filling his mouth.
He had a vague stab of guilt thinking of Scott in the bathroom, but banished it when Dean’s hips lifted off the bed and he made that sound, needy whimper and more and . Sam sucked in deep, then let Dean’s cock slide from his mouth as he slid up to look at him
Dean cocked his head. “What?”
“Nothing…just…beautiful.” Sam slid up to Dean’s mouth, kissing him slow and easy. His hands worked his own zipper, managing a little better than he had with Dean’s and easing his jeans down and off. Slowly, he rolled them until Dean was on top, spreading his legs and inviting Dean between them.
Dean stopped, looked down at him. “Yeah?”
Sam nodded, lifting his hips. “Yeah.”
It didn’t surprise him that Dean already had lube stashed in the nightstand, and as he lubed up two fingers and slid them inside, Sam sighed, reaching for a pillow to make the angle better.
Maybe full circle wasn’t a bad thing. Completely reversing it, of course. Letting Dean inside him, surrendering. His hands fisted in the god-awful floral comforter as Dean worked a third finger inside him. There were flashes of memory, but unlike in the past, they flitted through, as if asking for acknowledgement and nothing more. No lingering fear, no paralyzing panic.
Then Dean was right there, his cock pushing in, making Sam’s cock jerk fully hard.
Sam reached for him, hands on hips, minds entwined. There weren’t any words. Just full press of bodies and thoughts and emotions, penetrating one another, writhing. Think too much
Dean’s tongue was on his, his hands on Sam’s shoulders. Their bodies moved and Sam let go of thinking, released himself into the heat, touching Dean with hands and thought, licking on his nipples with a psychic mouth until Dean moaned. Not fair,
Sam grinned up at him. Fair.
Dean responded by doubling his pace, pushing deep into Sam. His hands slithered down to Sam’s nipples, twisting one as he hit Sam’s prostate on the next thrust. Sam saw stars, clenching his ass tight around Dean and Dean cursed, his rhythm stuttering, his cock spewing. He didn’t even pull out as he reached for Sam, stroking him quick and dirty until he was coming too.
Sam panted as Dean pulled out and stood, shaking his jeans off his ankle where Sam had left them. He padded toward the bathroom while Sam pulled himself together.
“Shit.” Dean jumped back, pulling the door shut and turning a delicious shade of red. “Forgot he was there.”
Sam chuckled and sat up, tossing Dean his boxers. “I’ll take care of him.”
He fished around on the floor for his own boxers, and pulled them on before going to get Scott. He was standing staring into the mirror blankly. “Fuck.” Guilt washed through him. He’d left the poor kid all but comatose just so he could get laid. Sam reached around him for a washcloth and cleaned himself up.
“This is a new low,” he muttered before guiding Scott out and to the bed. “Lay down.”
“What are you going to do now?” Dean asked, pulling the comforter off the other bed and stretching out.
“See what kind of damage control I need to do…put him to sleep. Hopefully it will all just feel like a dream when he wakes up.”
“What, the standing in the bathroom while we fucked or me walking in on him?” Dean asked with a snort.
“Both.” Sam responded with a grin.
He turned his attention to Scott, reaching inside him for the memories of the last twenty-four hours. He went first to the meeting with Ambrose, where Scott would have first heard him called by his last name. There was no response, as if Scott actually considered Sam a Winchester, despite the fact that Sam’s legal name was Winechrest. He fished around a little, taking the edge off some of the fear and leaving behind reassurances that Scott had handled himself well.
He couldn’t find any single moment where Scott had pondered associating the Winchester name to Sam, but as he continued parsing through memories, he realized that Scott thought he and Dean had been married back when the same-gender marriage law had passed.
Sam opened his eyes and looked at Dean, but he was already half way to sleep, his eyes closed, his breathing slow and easy. Sam shook his head and turned back to Scott. He took a few minutes to clean up his trail so that Dana wouldn’t spot it and go looking. She had no need to know any of this unless Scott chose to tell her. He eased up and out, leaving Scott sleeping peacefully. He crawled in next to Dean and sighed. It had been a long day.
Sam closed his eyes and let himself sink into sleep.
It was only about two hours later that Dean’s dream leaked into Sam’s, and jerked him awake. Violent, random images, firing rapidly. Dean tossed, one hand gripped tight on his pillow as he growled. Sam rolled toward him, using his body weight to ground Dean, as he actively reached for the dream.
Dean was already drenched with sweat, his mind flooded with blood and anger and waves and waves of fear. Sam waded through it, searching for the trigger. Dean’s head was a mess, the dream in complete control. Sam got slammed by the panic and anguish and the crystal-clear image of Sam on the ground dying the day of the attack. He pushed it aside, walled it off, rapidly threw out a bunch of other walls to try to give Dean a chance to shake free.
Dean’s presence jumped up from under it all and latched onto Sam, nearly stifling, making it difficult to keep working. Sam wrapped himself around Dean and drew him up and away instead. They were both sweating and panting as Dean finally came loose from sleep.
Dean opened panic-filled eyes, fingers digging into Sam’s arms as he clung to him. “Sam?” he asked breathlessly when he finally realized he was awake.
“Yeah, I got you.”
Dean swallowed, licked his lips and visibly tried to calm his breathing. “Sorry. I don’t know why…” He shook his head, then smiled kind of sheepishly. “Kind of a role reversal, huh?”
Sam nodded and kissed his forehead. “You okay?”
Dean took a deep breath and let go of Sam, running a hand over his head. “I don’t really know.”
“Can you tell what triggered it?”
Dean was up, out of bed, pacing the space between the bed and the door. “I don’t know? Being here? Going to that bar? Lot of memories Sam.”
Sam nodded and got up himself. “And not really good ones.”
Dean shook his head and turned to look at him. “That’s just it. I don’t regret any of it. I got you out of it all. I wouldn’t change one goddamn thing.”
“Doesn’t mean it wasn’t traumatic.”
Dean rolled his eyes. His frustration and a distinct impression of Chick Flick rolled off him. Sam moved a little closer, reaching for him. “You’ve been having them a lot lately. Maybe it isn’t just this, being here. Maybe it’s something more.”
Dean’s nose crinkled and his mouth curled into a snarl. “Like what? Dude, I’ve seen shit that would have vets cowering in the corner. I’ve never had nightmares before.”
Sam nodded. “That’s kind of my point Dean. You’ve seen so much, been subjected to so much pain. Maybe it’s all finally catching up with you.”
“What like some post-traumatic thing?” Dean obviously didn’t like that idea. He was a Winchester, a tough guy, could handle anything.
“Maybe. I’m just saying…it’s something to consider.”
Dean turned his face up to Sam’s, kissed him, his tongue gliding into Sam’s mouth. Sam recognized it for what it was, distraction and deflection, but let him have it.
“I’m considering a shower and some more sleep before we hit the road.”
We’ll talk about it when we’re home.
“Nothing to talk about, Sam. You coming?” Sam shook his head. “Suit yourself.”
Title: Finally Home, Part 2 (All Keeper Verse Here)
Rating: NC-17 (for this partl)
Word Count: 12,444 (total)
Pairings/Characters: Sam/Dean (long term established wincest), John, Dana (Dean's daughter) Scott
Summary: Sam and Scott confront the demons who have laid a claim to Scott, and Dean revisits an old memory.
A/Ns & Warnings: This story pics up shortly after Losing Sam, Arc 3. There are four parts, all complete. I will be posting them over the next few days. There is some angst and some funny and Dana acting decidedly like an 18 year old with her first taste of freedom, and a little bit of sex and a whole lot of schloomp at the end. As ever in Keeper!verse, thanks go to
shotofjack for the beta of awesome and for keeping me sane. *loves*Scott had been a little freaked out before Sam showed up. The level of freak climbed when Sam showed up. Now? He was pretty sure he was approaching the stratosphere. Sam was pacing and Scott wasn’t sure what he should be doing. Sam being nervous sent Scott’s level of anxiety from minor underlying panic into full on nervous breakdown.
Sam didn’t get nervous. Sam didn’t freak out.
Scott stopped biting his nails when he realized he was chewing on his fingers. And it hurt.
“Okay, this is kind of my fault.” Sam said, stopping mid pace to look at Scott. “I meant to warn you, set you up before you left…but then…you know.”
Then Sam had been attacked. Nearly killed. “Set me up?”
Sam looked uncomfortable. He chewed on his lip, than sat on the bed. “Okay, I have a confession to make.”
“I’m not going to like this.” Scott said, sitting in his desk chair. His ass was no sooner in the seat and his knee was bouncing. He couldn’t look at Sam, kept looking at his watch.
“I don’t…when you were first dating Dana, I…marked you.”
“You what?” Scott shook his head. It didn’t make sense. He’d always been vaguely aware that Sam had some gifts, like Dana’s…only not as intense.
Sam rubbed his face. “I never told Dana. I never even told Dean. I’m not…proud exactly, but I’d do it again.”
“Stop with the soft-soaping and tell me what the fuck you mean.”
“I pulled you aside after track practice one day and…went into your head. I put some controls in place, in case we needed to…keep you quiet, put you down, then I made you forget.”
“Keep me quiet? Put me down?” It sounded ominously like Sam was trying to say that he could kill him with a thought. “You booby trapped my head?”
Sam smiled at that. “Sort of. I buried it pretty deep, just in case Dana ever went snooping…but it’s there. It’s a…switch, for a lack of better word, it gives me the power to control you. I’ve never used it.”
“My life is too fucking weird.” Scott muttered. “And I’ve been walking around with this thing inside me?”
“Well, it is actually going to work in our favor. It’s been there since before you starting thinking about Stanford seriously. Before you met with their recruiter, which is probably when they marked you.”
“But why me?” He didn’t get it. He wasn’t psychic. He didn’t have a ton of money or influence.
“Genetics.” Sam said, making Scott look up. Sam kind of shrugged. “You have good genes…Olympic athletes, doctor, they’ve probably already picked out your mate.”
“Mate? As in…mates…like married?” Scott shook his head. “Dana is never going to let me live this down.”
“She doesn’t ever have to know.” Sam reassured. He stood. “Okay, come over here and lay down, I need to go in and open stuff up. You’re going to have to trust me.”
“Like I have a choice?” Trust wasn’t’ really high on his list of things he was feeling at the moment. “No offense, dude, but you can’t really expect me to just…let you do shit to my head.”
Of course, it occurred to him that Sam could do it anyway, whether he let him or not. That didn’t really help with the trust issues.
“Scott, I realize you’re freaked out, and you don’t understand what’s happening, but let me try to help you understand your options here. You can do as I say and let me help you and there’s a good chance Ambrose will be forced to release you. You can fight me, and I can put you down and force you, and trust me that won’t be pleasant for you. Or, you can take your chances with Ambrose and his plans for you, which will be far less pleasant than anything I might do to you.”
Scott paced, chewed on his lip and watched Sam. He started when Sam’s phone rang.
“Hey. No, I’m with him now.” Sam turned away. “They’ve got their claws in pretty deep, but I think I can win, if Scott will stop fighting me. We meet them at midnight.”
Scott wasn’t consciously trying to listen, but it was a small room. He sat on the edge of the bed and chewed on his fingers.
“You might want to rent us a car. He’s probably coming with us when this is over.”
Scott felt eyes and looked up. Sam was looking at him, weighing him. “Yeah, sounds good. I’ll find you when it’s over.”
Sam hung up and sighed. “So?”
Scott still wasn’t sure he trusted Sam in his head. Still, he lay down, flopping his hands against the mattress.
“Relax, this isn’t going to hurt.”
“Easy for you to say.”
Sam smiled down at him. “Yes, it is. Close your eyes.”
Scott blew out and tried to relax as he closed his eyes. Sam’s hand was over his eyes, then everything sort of tilted under him and dizziness sucked him under.
Charles Gildmore wasn’t your traditional good looking guy. He was a science geek, with a major in physics and a minor in biology. He was a year older than Dana, and already a junior. She’d latched onto him when he had assisted her biology professor the first week of classes. He had this definitely geeky sort of charm, with wavy hair that wasn’t really blond and wasn’t brown, and he tucked it behind his ears when he was concentrating.
She couldn’t explain why she found that so endearing, but it made her want to kiss him every time.
“Dana?”
“Hmmm?” She blinked and realized her staring was making him uncomfortable. “I was just….your glasses. I really like them.”
He rolled his eyes at her. “Are you flirting? Cause, if you’re flirting, you should know I’m not good at it.”
She grinned at him. “Would you like me to flirt?”
“I thought we were studying.”
“Project’s not due for two weeks.” Dana countered. “I learn fast.” She scanned him, very superficially. She just wanted to know if he was interested. She got a flush of very warm, slight arousal and nodded to herself.
It’s not that she was a slut…she just had decided to enjoy being away from the ever-watchful eye of Sam and her father, to explore what it was that did turn her on. And she had to move quick, before all the best paths to explore had been conquered by her roommate, or the other sluts on the floor.
He leaned in close, his mouth near hers. “I’ll tell you what, Ms. Winchester, learn something and I’ll let you flirt.”
“Oh, I think you’re better at this than you think.” Dana said in a whisper.
Yes, Charles Gildmore was definitely going to be fun.
Sam was nervous, maybe more than he even wanted to admit to himself. He centered for the fifth time in as many minutes. The grove was neutral ground. It had been home to trials and mediations as far back as there had been people on the land.
Scott was quiet beside him, mostly because Sam had a really firm grip on him. He’d activated all of his controls and was engaging all of them to keep Scott from bolting. They were alone, but there were still a few minutes until midnight.
His last visit to this grove had been after meeting Dean. He’d brought his claim on Dean for verification. It was before he’d learned who Dean was. He just knew that he wanted him, in every way possible, and didn’t ever want it to be contested.
Shortly after that, he’d gone home for Christmas to Boston, and never came back.
Sam drew in a deep breath and opened his eyes as he felt another person approaching. He stood slowly, drawing Scott up too.
“Samuel Winchester. We thought to never see you again.”
She glided out of the trees, seeming to step out of the night itself. Milk white eyes pinned him as she came closer, a vague smile on her lips. “We see the years have been kind.”
Sam inclined his head. “Gelinna. I am honored that you have come.”
“Such a request, from the infamous rebel…and the taste of goodness that came to us through the phone. We were intrigued.” Her dark hair wrapped around her like a garment, all the way to her knees.
Sam relaxed. If she could tell over the phone how much he had changed, and had come anyway, he might stand a chance.
“Is this the boy?”
“Yes, Scott Wu.”
She circled Scott, and he could feel her enveloping him with her own gifts, testing Sam, testing Scott. “Indeed.”
She backed off and seemed to settle into herself while they waited. There was a rustling of leaves and another like Gelinna glided out of the dark. Her eyes were also milk white, her hair a softer brown and likewise wrapped around her. Behind her Ambrose and the girl walked out.
The girl sidled up to Scott, her eyes black. She looked him over, then directed her attention at Sam, licking her lips.
“You haven’t tasted him.”
Sam’s eyes narrowed and he gave her a little psychic shove. “He’s not for me. Or you, for that matter.”
She raised an eyebrow and might have challenged him further, but Ambrose called her. “Come Melanie. Let us have the mediators do their job.”
Gelinna nodded to the other woman. “We have done our preliminary reading.”
The other one glided over the mossy ground. “We are Jotell. You are Samuel Winchester.”
Sam inclined his head. He double checked his controls. He was going to have a lot of memory to clean up for the kid when this was over…or a lot of questions to answer. “I am. This is Scott Wu. My claim has been usurped by Ambrose and the girl.”
“We shall see.” She turned to Scott, much as Gelinna had. She dug a little deeper, eliciting a pained response from Scott. It wasn’t a comfortable process by any means, even for an adept. “Release him.”
“I am controlling his anxiety. He is unaccustomed to—“
She looked him full in the face, her head tilting slightly. “We said, release him.”
Sam acquiesced, easing away from the controls and flicking the switch to return control to Scott. His eyes widened, his heartbeat sped up. He looked at Jotell, then at Sam. She turned to Scott again, reaching into his mind and sorting through the various marks.
Scott was just this side of a total shut down, Sam could sense it. Just when Sam thought Jotell was actually going to push him to it, she backed off. She nodded to Sam, then returned to Gelinna’s side.
They conferred silently for a long time. Scott inched closer to Sam.
Sam got the impression that Scott would have hidden behind him if he could. He put his arm around the boy, a bit of physical grounding. The two mediators lifted their heads and spoke together. “Scott Wu, we would speak with you.”
Panic spiked through Scott. “It’s okay. They won’t hurt you.” Sam whispered, encouraging him forward.
Scott rubbed at his head and moved slowly toward them. “Do you acknowledge either of these claims?’
“I…didn’t know about them…I wasn’t told.”
“And now you have been.” Jotell said.
Scott nodded. “I…Sam. I acknowledge Sam.”
Good boy. Sam sighed a little.
“Do you understand the implications of this claim?” Gelinna asked.
Scott shook his head, his eyes darting between them.
“If we confirm his claim, you will forever belong to him, and he will always retain the power to control you. This can not be undone.” Jotell told him.
“Though such power may be transferred if he does indeed hold you in preparation for mating.” Gelinna added.
Scott looked over his shoulder at Sam, and Sam could see the look of fear in his eyes, but in this, he was on his own.
“If I have to choose him or them with that power, I’ll take Sam.” Scott said, finally looking back at them.
“Our claim is binding.” Melanie said abruptly. “He was very willing. He participated.”
“He’s an eighteen year old boy and you offered him sex. Did you think he wouldn’t accept?” Sam snorted. “Really, Ambrose, your training is slipping. It isn’t like he was a virgin. He didn’t give you anything he didn’t already give the one I am holding him for.”
“We have seen all we need.” Jotell said, silencing everyone. “While both claims are strong, and bound with sexual magic, the claim that was made first clearly has precedence.”
“Scott Wu, you are given to Samuel Winchester, and shall abide under his protection and his control until such time as he sees fit to pass that control to another.” Ginella continued.
“Should he choose to relinquish said protection and control without passing it to the chosen Mate, all said rights will return to Ambrose Devlin.” Jotell finished.
Melanie started to protest, but Ambrose silenced her, bowing respectfully to the two women.
“Thank you.” Sam said, bowing himself before stepping forward to regain control of Scott. It would be better for all of them if Scott was silent and obedient while Sam cleaned up the last of the details. He didn’t trust Ambrose to leave it at this. Not that Sam dared to make a first strike, but it became clear very quickly he wasn’t going to have to.
Ginella and Jotell were scarcely gone when Ambrose attacked, first psychically, then physically. The knife sang through the air, and Sam pushed Scott out of the way before batting it away with a defensive wall, slamming it into a tree.
“Still can’t play by the rules, eh Ambrose?” Sam threw the wall toward his nemesis, surrounding him in a mesh of psychic energy before turning to Melanie who was gathering her own force of will around her. Sam pushed her hard, sending her back, just outside the neutral barrier, right into the devil’s trap he had drawn before the whole thing got rolling.
She screamed and threw herself at the barrier. Sam chuckled and watched her struggle for a second, then turned his attention to Ambrose, who had gone still and would soon run out of breathable air. He already had fallen to his knees.
Sam squatted next to him. “I’m not the scared little boy I was when I attended this university. Fortunately for you, I’m not the evil son-of-a-bitch I was when I left either.” He waved a hand and let Ambrose loose. He collapsed to the ground. “Get out of Stanford, Ambrose. Or, I will come back and finish you.”
Sam stood and left the grove, Scott following behind him. They left campus and once clear of it, Sam stopped them, quieting himself and centering and reaching out for Dean. It was comforting, the feeling of Dean as Sam brushed against his mind to get his attention, then opening their connection. It felt good, warm…safe. But Dean was distracted.
He frowned, then headed them toward the place where he felt Dean. Sam was uneasy, impatient and playing with his phone. He itched to call Dean, but he was trying to get a read for why Dean was there…standing outside the bar where they’d met. He nearly forgot Scott in his distraction, but Scott followed obediently without a word.
Dean felt him coming and looked up, guilt fleeting across his face. He was leaning against a black sedan, presumably their ride home. Sam looked at him, then up at the sign above the bar. “Why here?”
Dean shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess…full circle, and all that. We met here.”
Sam made a face. “The man you met here…he wasn’t me.”
Dean nodded, then shook his head. “The man I met here was hot and horny. Smart.”
“Evil. Manipulative.” Sam moved closer, slid his arm around Dean’s shoulder. “You on the other hand…you were the most beautiful man I had ever seen. I wanted you from the moment I laid eyes on you.”
Dean gave up staring at the bar and turned in Sam’s arms. “And all these years later, you still have me. Only now, I’m an old man with a daughter in college.”
“Still the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.” Sam whispered, sliding his lips over Dean’s. “Still want you so much it hurts.” Dean’s mouth opened under his and Sam licked into it, earning a moan.
“Scott.” Dean whispered, his eyes tracking over Dean’s shoulder to where the poor kid was standing, staring numbly at the sidewalk.
“Got him locked down so tight, I could fuck you against this car and he wouldn’t know.”
Dean snorted. “Right and get us both arrested? How would we explain that to Dana?” He pushed Sam away. “I got us a room. We can pack Scott up in the morning and head home.”
Sam was very happy to see that Dean hadn’t chosen the same run down motel as that first fateful night, in some misguided nostalgic fit. That might have been a little more than he could handle. It was strange, finally being back there. None of the normal panic had surfaced, not even when he’d spotted Ambrose.
Dean stopped the car in front of a very nice hotel and Sam let go of the controls on Scott just enough that he could get himself up and out of the car and into the room. It was late, just past one a.m. and Sam was tired, but he knew better than to leave Scott free to remember the way everyone had called him “Winchester”…though, so far it hadn’t seemed to register. Like Scott already thought of him as a Winchester, somehow.
“Can we maybe move the doorstop?” Dean asked, bumping his hip and gesturing at Scott with his chin. Scott stood dully in the way of getting the door closed.
Sam sighed and nodded. “Scott, come sit on the bed.”
“Any reason you’ve still got him so controlled?” Dean asked once he had the door secured with the standard lock, plus a solid rod of steel braced against a block of concrete, plus a line of salt and a nice sigil of protection to boot.
“Any reason you’ve got us locked in here like hell itself is coming after us?”
Dean shrugged, but Sam could tell he was a little tense. “I asked first.”
Sam nodded and looked at Scott. “I need to…blur some stuff.”
“Blur?” Dean was frowning at him and crossing to his side.
“They all knew me as Sam Winchester, Dean. Scott heard them.”
“You think he’ll remember?” Dean’s arms slid around his waist, his mouth chasing a line only Dean could see over Sam’s left shoulder.
“Better safe than sorry.”
“Told you you’d always be a Winchester, Sammy.” Dean whispered. His breath moved over Sam’s neck, ruffling his hair. He pulled the ponytail aside and kissed over his neck. “Always. No matter what your ID says.”
“Dean.” Sam was finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate with Dean’s tongue in his ear.
“Want to do more of that kissing thing.” Dean’s voice made Sam shiver. “And the licking thing too.”
“Scott.” Sam’s voice squeaked and he cleared his throat. “Scott, go into the bathroom and don’t come out until I come get you.” He pressed in on the controls in the kid’s head and he rose without hesitation, disappearing behind the bathroom door.
“Nice trick.” Dean laughed, turning Sam around and pulling him into a kiss that slipped tongues over and around, sliding in and out until Sam pulled back and threw Dean onto the bed.
“That’s ‘nough talking.” Sam’s hands pulled at Dean’s shirts, finally getting them loose from his jeans and yanking them up.
Dean’s skin was warm, tan and firm under Sam’s hands. He crawled over Dean’s legs to lick from Dean’s navel up to his chin. Dean’s fingers pulled the elastic that held Sam’s hair neatly at the nape of his neck, then pulled through his hair, gripping and pulling Sam’s mouth to his own.
Sam tried to get Dean’s pants open without breaking the kiss, but the zipper eluded him and he had to pull back, look down. Dean pulled Sam’s shirt up and over his head while Sam worked on his pants, finally freeing Dean’s cock which was half way to hard.
Sam wasted nothing in getting to it, opening his mouth and swallowing Dean before his pants were even down. He swirled his tongue around and over and slid down and up until Dean’s cock was swelling and filling his mouth.
He had a vague stab of guilt thinking of Scott in the bathroom, but banished it when Dean’s hips lifted off the bed and he made that sound, needy whimper and more and . Sam sucked in deep, then let Dean’s cock slide from his mouth as he slid up to look at him
Dean cocked his head. “What?”
“Nothing…just…beautiful.” Sam slid up to Dean’s mouth, kissing him slow and easy. His hands worked his own zipper, managing a little better than he had with Dean’s and easing his jeans down and off. Slowly, he rolled them until Dean was on top, spreading his legs and inviting Dean between them.
Dean stopped, looked down at him. “Yeah?”
Sam nodded, lifting his hips. “Yeah.”
It didn’t surprise him that Dean already had lube stashed in the nightstand, and as he lubed up two fingers and slid them inside, Sam sighed, reaching for a pillow to make the angle better.
Maybe full circle wasn’t a bad thing. Completely reversing it, of course. Letting Dean inside him, surrendering. His hands fisted in the god-awful floral comforter as Dean worked a third finger inside him. There were flashes of memory, but unlike in the past, they flitted through, as if asking for acknowledgement and nothing more. No lingering fear, no paralyzing panic.
Then Dean was right there, his cock pushing in, making Sam’s cock jerk fully hard.
Sam reached for him, hands on hips, minds entwined. There weren’t any words. Just full press of bodies and thoughts and emotions, penetrating one another, writhing. Think too much
Dean’s tongue was on his, his hands on Sam’s shoulders. Their bodies moved and Sam let go of thinking, released himself into the heat, touching Dean with hands and thought, licking on his nipples with a psychic mouth until Dean moaned. Not fair,
Sam grinned up at him. Fair.
Dean responded by doubling his pace, pushing deep into Sam. His hands slithered down to Sam’s nipples, twisting one as he hit Sam’s prostate on the next thrust. Sam saw stars, clenching his ass tight around Dean and Dean cursed, his rhythm stuttering, his cock spewing. He didn’t even pull out as he reached for Sam, stroking him quick and dirty until he was coming too.
Sam panted as Dean pulled out and stood, shaking his jeans off his ankle where Sam had left them. He padded toward the bathroom while Sam pulled himself together.
“Shit.” Dean jumped back, pulling the door shut and turning a delicious shade of red. “Forgot he was there.”
Sam chuckled and sat up, tossing Dean his boxers. “I’ll take care of him.”
He fished around on the floor for his own boxers, and pulled them on before going to get Scott. He was standing staring into the mirror blankly. “Fuck.” Guilt washed through him. He’d left the poor kid all but comatose just so he could get laid. Sam reached around him for a washcloth and cleaned himself up.
“This is a new low,” he muttered before guiding Scott out and to the bed. “Lay down.”
“What are you going to do now?” Dean asked, pulling the comforter off the other bed and stretching out.
“See what kind of damage control I need to do…put him to sleep. Hopefully it will all just feel like a dream when he wakes up.”
“What, the standing in the bathroom while we fucked or me walking in on him?” Dean asked with a snort.
“Both.” Sam responded with a grin.
He turned his attention to Scott, reaching inside him for the memories of the last twenty-four hours. He went first to the meeting with Ambrose, where Scott would have first heard him called by his last name. There was no response, as if Scott actually considered Sam a Winchester, despite the fact that Sam’s legal name was Winechrest. He fished around a little, taking the edge off some of the fear and leaving behind reassurances that Scott had handled himself well.
He couldn’t find any single moment where Scott had pondered associating the Winchester name to Sam, but as he continued parsing through memories, he realized that Scott thought he and Dean had been married back when the same-gender marriage law had passed.
Sam opened his eyes and looked at Dean, but he was already half way to sleep, his eyes closed, his breathing slow and easy. Sam shook his head and turned back to Scott. He took a few minutes to clean up his trail so that Dana wouldn’t spot it and go looking. She had no need to know any of this unless Scott chose to tell her. He eased up and out, leaving Scott sleeping peacefully. He crawled in next to Dean and sighed. It had been a long day.
Sam closed his eyes and let himself sink into sleep.
It was only about two hours later that Dean’s dream leaked into Sam’s, and jerked him awake. Violent, random images, firing rapidly. Dean tossed, one hand gripped tight on his pillow as he growled. Sam rolled toward him, using his body weight to ground Dean, as he actively reached for the dream.
Dean was already drenched with sweat, his mind flooded with blood and anger and waves and waves of fear. Sam waded through it, searching for the trigger. Dean’s head was a mess, the dream in complete control. Sam got slammed by the panic and anguish and the crystal-clear image of Sam on the ground dying the day of the attack. He pushed it aside, walled it off, rapidly threw out a bunch of other walls to try to give Dean a chance to shake free.
Dean’s presence jumped up from under it all and latched onto Sam, nearly stifling, making it difficult to keep working. Sam wrapped himself around Dean and drew him up and away instead. They were both sweating and panting as Dean finally came loose from sleep.
Dean opened panic-filled eyes, fingers digging into Sam’s arms as he clung to him. “Sam?” he asked breathlessly when he finally realized he was awake.
“Yeah, I got you.”
Dean swallowed, licked his lips and visibly tried to calm his breathing. “Sorry. I don’t know why…” He shook his head, then smiled kind of sheepishly. “Kind of a role reversal, huh?”
Sam nodded and kissed his forehead. “You okay?”
Dean took a deep breath and let go of Sam, running a hand over his head. “I don’t really know.”
“Can you tell what triggered it?”
Dean was up, out of bed, pacing the space between the bed and the door. “I don’t know? Being here? Going to that bar? Lot of memories Sam.”
Sam nodded and got up himself. “And not really good ones.”
Dean shook his head and turned to look at him. “That’s just it. I don’t regret any of it. I got you out of it all. I wouldn’t change one goddamn thing.”
“Doesn’t mean it wasn’t traumatic.”
Dean rolled his eyes. His frustration and a distinct impression of Chick Flick rolled off him. Sam moved a little closer, reaching for him. “You’ve been having them a lot lately. Maybe it isn’t just this, being here. Maybe it’s something more.”
Dean’s nose crinkled and his mouth curled into a snarl. “Like what? Dude, I’ve seen shit that would have vets cowering in the corner. I’ve never had nightmares before.”
Sam nodded. “That’s kind of my point Dean. You’ve seen so much, been subjected to so much pain. Maybe it’s all finally catching up with you.”
“What like some post-traumatic thing?” Dean obviously didn’t like that idea. He was a Winchester, a tough guy, could handle anything.
“Maybe. I’m just saying…it’s something to consider.”
Dean turned his face up to Sam’s, kissed him, his tongue gliding into Sam’s mouth. Sam recognized it for what it was, distraction and deflection, but let him have it.
“I’m considering a shower and some more sleep before we hit the road.”
We’ll talk about it when we’re home.
“Nothing to talk about, Sam. You coming?” Sam shook his head. “Suit yourself.”