![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
phantismaFandom: Supernatural
Title: What He Wants and Can Never Have (Part Two) First Part
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean, Bobby, mentions of Jess, Mary
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~20,000 (in total)
Summary: AU off of "What is And Should Never Be" - Sam comes to rescue Dean from the djinn, only he gets caught himself. The wish he makes changes everything.
A/Ns & Warnings; Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wincestaholic who paid a ridiculous sum of money for me during the special Sweet Charity to benefit the WGA Foundation. This will be posted in four to five parts over the next four or five days or until finished (as I'm still tweaking and finishing).
She went down easy, the ghost of a woman who died on the land, rather than sell it to developers and by midnight they were pulled off the road out of town with a six pack of beer and a pizza and a warm summer night.
All around them waist high grasses swayed to the soft breeze. Sam lay back against the windshield, sipping his beer, watching Dean’s throat as he swallowed his in big gulps. It wasn’t the first time he’d stared at that particular part of his anatomy…and thought about how it would taste.
He didn’t have to think about it now. Didn’t have to hold himself in check, force his eyes away. He was allowed to look. Allowed to taste. Sam splayed his hand across the middle of Dean’s back and leaned forward, leaned in, his tongue sliding up the thick cord of muscle, sweeping over sweat-salted skin to the dark hollow behind Dean’s ear.
Dean’s moan was all the invitation Sam needed to open his mouth, pulling Dean’s ear lobe into his mouth, teasing it before sliding forward on the warm metal of the car, open mouthed kisses, slow, tender…from ear up to stubbled jaw.
By the time Sam reached Dean’s mouth, Dean was fumbling, his hand searching for Sam’s face, his mouth open, his eyes half closed. “Dean…” Sam’s breath carried the word into Dean’s skin, into open lips.
Dean breathed Sam’s name back to him and Sam swallowed the sound, naked with need. Dean’s hand cupped to Sam’s face, then slid down to hold the back of his neck, pulling him in. Dean guided Sam back, down until he was laying against the hood. His hand plucked the beer bottle away and tossed it into the grass. His hand slid to Sam’s belt, working it open, getting the zipper down and his hand into Sam’s jeans. All the while, Dean’s mouth never left Sam’s.
Sam lifted his hips when Dean sat up and pulled on his jeans. He tossed those into the grass too, his lips moving over Sam’s neck, down over his collarbone, onto his chest. His one hand worked Sam’s cock while Dean’s mouth worked his nipple, nipping and sucking until Sam actually yelled.
Dean was grinning at him as he lifted up. “Maybe we should get them pierced…then I could really tug on them.” Before Sam could reply, Dean descended on his other nipple. His hand left his cock, moved lower, under. Sam started when it entered him, dry and unexpected. “Dean…” He arched up.
Dean waited until he’d settled back to the car, then kissed down his stomach, leaving his finger there inside him. Not moving or pressing…just…there. It was hot and incredible and frightening how much it turned Sam on.
“Eager boy?” Dean joked as he reached Sam’s cock, which was hard and curling toward his stomach, the tip starting to leak slow pearls of pre-come.
“Dean…” It came out like a needy moan and Sam’s head clunked against the car as Dean opened his mouth and sucked the tip of his cock. “God…Dean…”
He lifted up and grinned at Sam again, then opened his mouth wide, making a big show of going down on Sam. Just as his lips closed and he started to suck, he pulled his finger out and pushed it back in with a second finger. Sam cursed, bucking up, his cock slamming into Dean’s throat.
Dean pulled up and off and Sam shook his head. “Shit, sorry…sorry.”
Dean’s fingers moved inside him and Sam bucked again. “Fuck, you’re tight.” Dean murmured. “I must not be taking good care of you Sammy. But that ends now.” He pulled his fingers out and moved away.
Sam propped himself up on his elbows, sudden panic that he wouldn’t finish. “Where you going?”
Dean just grinned at him and opened the passenger side door. He rummaged around behind Sam and emerged a moment later, a bottle of lube in his hand. “I’m going to fuck you proper, little brother…open you up and feel around inside you…slick up my cock and fill you up…gonna make you come…make you feel every inch…”
Sam watched him slick up his fingers. Dean murmured to him to lift up, to bend his knees, then pulled him a little closer to the edge of the hood. His finger was cold and wet as it eased into him. It made Sam feel like he was sixteen again…only instead of Brian Bell and the bed of a Ford pickup it was Dean…his Dean…and the Impala…the two mainstays of his life…the two things that brought him out of exile in Stanford…Only here he never went to Stanford, never had a Dean look alike fuck him when he couldn’t stand the need anymore at sixteen…never lost himself in Jessica just so he could pretend to be normal.
Sam closed his eyes, his hands gripping his knees and pulling them up and away, giving Dean more room. Dean grunted in appreciation, but his concentration now was on his hands…on the fingers moving in and out of Sam and the one’s curled around Sam’s cock.
Electric current rippled up Sam’s spine when Dean crooked his fingers inside him, strumming over the hot spot and then grinning up at Sam. “Maybe I need to get out that butt plug you like so much…the one that presses just right here?” He pushed against it again and Sam arched up off the car, his cock dribbling.
“Fuck…I’m gonna come already Dean…” Sam gasped. Dean’s hand pulled away from his cock and his eyes sparkled.
“Can you come like this?” He strummed over the spot again and again and Sam writhed.
“Dean! Fuck…Dean…” He was yelling, and he couldn’t get his ass back to the hood of the car as Dean pressed harder, faster, sideways, down, sliding out and poking into it hard and fast. Sam started to reach for his cock, but he was too late, his orgasm ripping from him, spilling come all over his chest.
Sam eased back to the car, panting, and before he’d even opened his eyes Dean’s hands moved, and his fingers slid free. His cock pressed in and his hands settled on Sam’s hips, pulling him closer until his ass hung off the car.
Sam held his breath as Dean pushed in…so much more than his fingers, hot and thick and hard and Sam was fairly certain the world could end and he wouldn’t notice, not as long as Dean was there, inside him…just like that.
He grabbed at Dean, pulling him frantically, reaching, wanting to taste him, kiss him…the car rocked as Dean leveraged himself up, into Sam, pushing. With this position Sam could barely reach his arms, and he held to them, just above the elbow, his hands gripping tight.
“Dean…please…want you…want you.” He shook his head, pulling himself up, even though he knew his position was precarious. His hands inched up Dean’s arms as Dean tried to keep his rhythm. “Need to taste you Dean.”
Dean groaned with the strain as he took most of Sam’s weight and Sam’s lips found his. Sam’s tongue flicked over his mouth, into the corners, over his teeth. Dean stumbled backward…away from the car. “Sam…” He grimaced and his knees gave, sending them to the ground and rolling them.
“Fuck, Sam…just…fuck.” Dean stopped their rolling, pushed Sam’s knees up, nearly to his ears and fucked into him wildly. Sam couldn’t catch his breath, couldn’t control the way his heart clenched. He’d given up on ever having this…ran away from the need…ran away from Dean.
Dean’s pace stuttered and he grunted. Sam felt the hot spill of come inside him and Dean kept fucking, kept coming, until it was oozing out, down Sam’s ass, into the ground under them. When he was finally done, he eased out, collapsed beside Sam, panting and staring up at the night sky.
It took Sam a few minutes to gather himself enough to even look at Dean. More incredible than Sam inside Dean that first time, this was… unbelievable… everything he’d imagined and more.
“You okay?” Dean asked, suddenly leaning over him.
Sam nodded, blinked at suddenly very wet eyes. “I’m…good. Very, very good.”
“Are you…you’re not crying are you?”
Sam shook his head. “No. Must be the grass or something. Allergies.”
Dean snorted. “You are such a girl sometimes.”
He started to get up, but Sam reached for him and pulled him down to kiss. “I love you.”
Dean rolled his eyes. “You’re getting all sentimental on me Sammy.”
Sam chuckled and let him go. “Wouldn’t want that.”
Dean helped him up and Sam went looking for his jeans.
“We should get on the road, let Bobby know we handled stuff.”
Sam nodded as he got himself back into his jeans. “Want me to drive?”
Dean looked at him like he was crazy. “Are you kidding? With you acting all weird on me? Don’t hardly think so.”
“Just offering.” Sam grabbed the last of their beers and stashed them in the back seat before sliding into the passenger side.
Bobby’s place was a good two or three hours away, so they should be there by dawn.
Jessica sat beside him, her smile soft, her hand on his thigh. The plane ride had been smooth, though he’d been preoccupied with the strange phone call from Dean the night before. Dean. Who almost never called him, then out of the blue calls him drunk and rambling about some creature that attacked him.
Sam smiled at Jess, raised her hand to kiss it. He pressed his lips to the ring he’d given her and she giggled, just like she did every time. Mom was going to be so happy.
Dean was there as he looked up, sitting on Mom’s steps, a beer in one hand, his smile huge. He got up and started toward the car, toward them. Sam smiled tightly, wondering just how drunk his brother was already.
Sam gasped and sat up, looking around him.
“Who’s Jessica?” Dean asked.
“Girl I knew in Stanford.” Sam answered without thinking. He shifted in his seat next to Dean.
“What?”
Sam looked at him confused. “What?”
“Stanford?”
Sam shook his head and exhaled slowly. “I don’t know…stupid dream.”
“You sounded happy.”
“Did I?” Sam was uncomfortable, disoriented. The dream had felt real…but like he didn’t actually belong there. Like it wasn’t his dream. “I was…engaged…or something.”
“To this Jessica?”
Sam shivered and looked away, out the window. They were nearly to Bobby’s. “Yeah, it was weird. Mom was alive….I was thinking she’d be happy.”
“Mom?”
Sam nodded. “Weird, huh?”
“No weirder than you lately.” Dean made the turn onto Bobby’s street. “Maybe you should get some sleep when we get there.”
“I was just asleep Dean.”
“No, I mean the real kind, in a bed…for more than two or three hours.” He glanced aside at Sam again. “I mean it. I’ll get Bobby to give you something if I have to.”
Sam sighed and gave in. “Yeah, whatever. I am tired.”
“Good.” Dean stopped the car and Bobby emerged from the house, waving.
Sam followed his brother into the house, listened as he and Bobby bantered, then Dean was looking at him, and Sam could feel it. He turned and Dean flicked his eyes meaningfully to the stairs. Sam nodded, figuring Dean would explain to Bobby, and headed for the room where they crashed when they were here.
Sleep would do him good.
Everything was bright, beautiful. Jessica beamed. His mother was smiling and happy. Dean sat across from him, forcing a smile. Sam looked down at Jessica’s hand in his, at the ring. There was champagne, Carmen kissed Dean. There was no twinge of jealousy, no sting. Sam smiled at his brother. He was getting married to a beautiful woman and his mother was there, happy, proud.
The restaurant was crowded and there was a lot of distraction as they stood to leave.
Then Dean got a strange look on his face and wandered away. Sam watched, saw him chasing nothing. When Dean turned back around he looked confused, worried. The brightness dimmed. Something wasn’t right.
Sam opened his eyes. The room was still, quiet. Dean was asleep beside him. Sunlight lay in scattered puddles on the floor from the worn out and hole-filled curtains. Sam sat up slowly, working at not waking his brother. He padded on stocking feet to the window.
It was late afternoon. Bobby was down in the yard. Sam could hear him, but not see him. With a sigh, Sam pulled on his sneakers and headed down. There was the perpetual pot of coffee and Sam paused to pour a cup before he headed out into the yard. He followed the sounds of Bobby’s hands and tools against metal, rounded a pile of junkers and found Bobby, his head under the hood of an old El Camino.
“Sleep good?” Bobby asked without looking up.
“Yeah…it was good.” Sam answered, sipping on his coffee. “Thanks.”
“No thank you, and your brother, for dealing with that ghost. I’ve been swamped.”
Bobby stood up right and reached for a wrench. He stopped and squinted at Sam. “You okay?”
“Dean keeps asking me that too. I’m fine.”
Bobby shrugged. “Your brother worries. He loves you.”
“I know. But I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine. You look spooked.” He went back under the hood. Sam watched him for a bit, then inched closer.
“Bobby…what do you know about…djinn?”
Bobby straightened up and tossed the wrench, pulling a filthy rag from his pocket to wipe his hands. “Djinn?”
Sam nodded. He was holding his breath. “I mean, I know the basics. They’re said to bestow gifts, grant wishes, right?”
Bobby snorted. “For a price.”
“Right. But…what price?” He swallowed and paced away, setting his coffee down on the workbench. “I mean…none of the lore is overly specific.”
Bobby crossed his arms. “What’s this about?”
“Nothing….not really. I’m…curious.”
“Your brother says you’ve been having strange dreams, acting weird since that run in the other night with that crazy wizard guy. Said you cracked your head.”
Sam wasn’t sure if he should say anything. Wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “I—I don’t know. I’m having trouble remembering stuff. You know? Stuff I should know. And sometimes…I feel like…like it isn’t supposed to be like this.”
“Like what?”
Sam growled in frustration. “This. Me and Dean. Dad.”
Bobby took the few steps to Sam’s side, lifted a hand to Sam’s face. “This about your Daddy?”
Sam shook his head and sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe it is. I…I remember it different.”
“What do you remember?”
Sam took a deep breath. “Dean and I got Dad…went to the cabin. Dean thought Dad was possessed. I was scared.” Sam turned away. “Dad’s eyes went yellow. He had Dean against the wall, was squeezing the life out of him. There was blood. I broke free…got the colt. Shot him in the leg.”
“Sounds about how Dean tells the story, Sam.” Bobby said.
Sam shook his head. “No…I…He begged me to shoot him in the head. Ordered me. I couldn’t do it. Then the demon came out of him and we ran. Had to get Dean and Dad to a hospital. I drove.” He closed his eyes, remembering his desperation. “I kept trying to get them to talk to me. It was so quiet. I had to turn the radio on or I was going to go crazy with the quiet.”
He blew out slow, tried to gather himself. “I didn’t see it coming. Thought we were clear…then it just plowed into us. We didn’t stand a chance. I don’t know how long we laid there before someone found us, before they came for us…hours. I was in and out. When…when the doctors finally let me up…Dean was in a coma and Dad was…beat to hell. He sent me to you to get stuff. Said it was for protection, but it wasn’t. He…summoned the damn demon, traded his life for Dean’s.”
His last words had been angry, accusing. He should have known something was wrong…just from the look on his face, from the way he said he didn’t want to fight. Should have known.
He realized Bobby was still there, still looking at him. He shook his head. “I know…I sound…like I’m just trying to make it not my fault, right?” Sam dragged a hand through his hair. He was starting to wonder what was real.
“It wasn’t your fault, Son. You did the right thing.”
Sam closed his eyes. Maybe he really was just going crazy. Maybe the guilt was driving him to reach for anything to make it go away. “I don’t know, Bobby…It seems so real. And not just that…this whole…other life.” He shook his head and looked away.
Dean.
Sam blinked. The apparition looked different. His eyes darker, sunken. They looked through him. Sam shivered.
“Sam?”
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them, Dean was gone. “Yeah, Bobby. I’m okay.”
“You keep saying that.” Bobby said. “I’m thinking maybe you and Dean need some down time. You’ve been running full tilt since your Daddy died. I know a place, quiet, sanctified ground. You boys could rest, get your heads on straight.”
Title: What He Wants and Can Never Have (Part Two) First Part
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean, Bobby, mentions of Jess, Mary
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~20,000 (in total)
Summary: AU off of "What is And Should Never Be" - Sam comes to rescue Dean from the djinn, only he gets caught himself. The wish he makes changes everything.
A/Ns & Warnings; Written for
wincestaholic who paid a ridiculous sum of money for me during the special Sweet Charity to benefit the WGA Foundation. This will be posted in four to five parts over the next four or five days or until finished (as I'm still tweaking and finishing).She went down easy, the ghost of a woman who died on the land, rather than sell it to developers and by midnight they were pulled off the road out of town with a six pack of beer and a pizza and a warm summer night.
All around them waist high grasses swayed to the soft breeze. Sam lay back against the windshield, sipping his beer, watching Dean’s throat as he swallowed his in big gulps. It wasn’t the first time he’d stared at that particular part of his anatomy…and thought about how it would taste.
He didn’t have to think about it now. Didn’t have to hold himself in check, force his eyes away. He was allowed to look. Allowed to taste. Sam splayed his hand across the middle of Dean’s back and leaned forward, leaned in, his tongue sliding up the thick cord of muscle, sweeping over sweat-salted skin to the dark hollow behind Dean’s ear.
Dean’s moan was all the invitation Sam needed to open his mouth, pulling Dean’s ear lobe into his mouth, teasing it before sliding forward on the warm metal of the car, open mouthed kisses, slow, tender…from ear up to stubbled jaw.
By the time Sam reached Dean’s mouth, Dean was fumbling, his hand searching for Sam’s face, his mouth open, his eyes half closed. “Dean…” Sam’s breath carried the word into Dean’s skin, into open lips.
Dean breathed Sam’s name back to him and Sam swallowed the sound, naked with need. Dean’s hand cupped to Sam’s face, then slid down to hold the back of his neck, pulling him in. Dean guided Sam back, down until he was laying against the hood. His hand plucked the beer bottle away and tossed it into the grass. His hand slid to Sam’s belt, working it open, getting the zipper down and his hand into Sam’s jeans. All the while, Dean’s mouth never left Sam’s.
Sam lifted his hips when Dean sat up and pulled on his jeans. He tossed those into the grass too, his lips moving over Sam’s neck, down over his collarbone, onto his chest. His one hand worked Sam’s cock while Dean’s mouth worked his nipple, nipping and sucking until Sam actually yelled.
Dean was grinning at him as he lifted up. “Maybe we should get them pierced…then I could really tug on them.” Before Sam could reply, Dean descended on his other nipple. His hand left his cock, moved lower, under. Sam started when it entered him, dry and unexpected. “Dean…” He arched up.
Dean waited until he’d settled back to the car, then kissed down his stomach, leaving his finger there inside him. Not moving or pressing…just…there. It was hot and incredible and frightening how much it turned Sam on.
“Eager boy?” Dean joked as he reached Sam’s cock, which was hard and curling toward his stomach, the tip starting to leak slow pearls of pre-come.
“Dean…” It came out like a needy moan and Sam’s head clunked against the car as Dean opened his mouth and sucked the tip of his cock. “God…Dean…”
He lifted up and grinned at Sam again, then opened his mouth wide, making a big show of going down on Sam. Just as his lips closed and he started to suck, he pulled his finger out and pushed it back in with a second finger. Sam cursed, bucking up, his cock slamming into Dean’s throat.
Dean pulled up and off and Sam shook his head. “Shit, sorry…sorry.”
Dean’s fingers moved inside him and Sam bucked again. “Fuck, you’re tight.” Dean murmured. “I must not be taking good care of you Sammy. But that ends now.” He pulled his fingers out and moved away.
Sam propped himself up on his elbows, sudden panic that he wouldn’t finish. “Where you going?”
Dean just grinned at him and opened the passenger side door. He rummaged around behind Sam and emerged a moment later, a bottle of lube in his hand. “I’m going to fuck you proper, little brother…open you up and feel around inside you…slick up my cock and fill you up…gonna make you come…make you feel every inch…”
Sam watched him slick up his fingers. Dean murmured to him to lift up, to bend his knees, then pulled him a little closer to the edge of the hood. His finger was cold and wet as it eased into him. It made Sam feel like he was sixteen again…only instead of Brian Bell and the bed of a Ford pickup it was Dean…his Dean…and the Impala…the two mainstays of his life…the two things that brought him out of exile in Stanford…Only here he never went to Stanford, never had a Dean look alike fuck him when he couldn’t stand the need anymore at sixteen…never lost himself in Jessica just so he could pretend to be normal.
Sam closed his eyes, his hands gripping his knees and pulling them up and away, giving Dean more room. Dean grunted in appreciation, but his concentration now was on his hands…on the fingers moving in and out of Sam and the one’s curled around Sam’s cock.
Electric current rippled up Sam’s spine when Dean crooked his fingers inside him, strumming over the hot spot and then grinning up at Sam. “Maybe I need to get out that butt plug you like so much…the one that presses just right here?” He pushed against it again and Sam arched up off the car, his cock dribbling.
“Fuck…I’m gonna come already Dean…” Sam gasped. Dean’s hand pulled away from his cock and his eyes sparkled.
“Can you come like this?” He strummed over the spot again and again and Sam writhed.
“Dean! Fuck…Dean…” He was yelling, and he couldn’t get his ass back to the hood of the car as Dean pressed harder, faster, sideways, down, sliding out and poking into it hard and fast. Sam started to reach for his cock, but he was too late, his orgasm ripping from him, spilling come all over his chest.
Sam eased back to the car, panting, and before he’d even opened his eyes Dean’s hands moved, and his fingers slid free. His cock pressed in and his hands settled on Sam’s hips, pulling him closer until his ass hung off the car.
Sam held his breath as Dean pushed in…so much more than his fingers, hot and thick and hard and Sam was fairly certain the world could end and he wouldn’t notice, not as long as Dean was there, inside him…just like that.
He grabbed at Dean, pulling him frantically, reaching, wanting to taste him, kiss him…the car rocked as Dean leveraged himself up, into Sam, pushing. With this position Sam could barely reach his arms, and he held to them, just above the elbow, his hands gripping tight.
“Dean…please…want you…want you.” He shook his head, pulling himself up, even though he knew his position was precarious. His hands inched up Dean’s arms as Dean tried to keep his rhythm. “Need to taste you Dean.”
Dean groaned with the strain as he took most of Sam’s weight and Sam’s lips found his. Sam’s tongue flicked over his mouth, into the corners, over his teeth. Dean stumbled backward…away from the car. “Sam…” He grimaced and his knees gave, sending them to the ground and rolling them.
“Fuck, Sam…just…fuck.” Dean stopped their rolling, pushed Sam’s knees up, nearly to his ears and fucked into him wildly. Sam couldn’t catch his breath, couldn’t control the way his heart clenched. He’d given up on ever having this…ran away from the need…ran away from Dean.
Dean’s pace stuttered and he grunted. Sam felt the hot spill of come inside him and Dean kept fucking, kept coming, until it was oozing out, down Sam’s ass, into the ground under them. When he was finally done, he eased out, collapsed beside Sam, panting and staring up at the night sky.
It took Sam a few minutes to gather himself enough to even look at Dean. More incredible than Sam inside Dean that first time, this was… unbelievable… everything he’d imagined and more.
“You okay?” Dean asked, suddenly leaning over him.
Sam nodded, blinked at suddenly very wet eyes. “I’m…good. Very, very good.”
“Are you…you’re not crying are you?”
Sam shook his head. “No. Must be the grass or something. Allergies.”
Dean snorted. “You are such a girl sometimes.”
He started to get up, but Sam reached for him and pulled him down to kiss. “I love you.”
Dean rolled his eyes. “You’re getting all sentimental on me Sammy.”
Sam chuckled and let him go. “Wouldn’t want that.”
Dean helped him up and Sam went looking for his jeans.
“We should get on the road, let Bobby know we handled stuff.”
Sam nodded as he got himself back into his jeans. “Want me to drive?”
Dean looked at him like he was crazy. “Are you kidding? With you acting all weird on me? Don’t hardly think so.”
“Just offering.” Sam grabbed the last of their beers and stashed them in the back seat before sliding into the passenger side.
Bobby’s place was a good two or three hours away, so they should be there by dawn.
Jessica sat beside him, her smile soft, her hand on his thigh. The plane ride had been smooth, though he’d been preoccupied with the strange phone call from Dean the night before. Dean. Who almost never called him, then out of the blue calls him drunk and rambling about some creature that attacked him.
Sam smiled at Jess, raised her hand to kiss it. He pressed his lips to the ring he’d given her and she giggled, just like she did every time. Mom was going to be so happy.
Dean was there as he looked up, sitting on Mom’s steps, a beer in one hand, his smile huge. He got up and started toward the car, toward them. Sam smiled tightly, wondering just how drunk his brother was already.
Sam gasped and sat up, looking around him.
“Who’s Jessica?” Dean asked.
“Girl I knew in Stanford.” Sam answered without thinking. He shifted in his seat next to Dean.
“What?”
Sam looked at him confused. “What?”
“Stanford?”
Sam shook his head and exhaled slowly. “I don’t know…stupid dream.”
“You sounded happy.”
“Did I?” Sam was uncomfortable, disoriented. The dream had felt real…but like he didn’t actually belong there. Like it wasn’t his dream. “I was…engaged…or something.”
“To this Jessica?”
Sam shivered and looked away, out the window. They were nearly to Bobby’s. “Yeah, it was weird. Mom was alive….I was thinking she’d be happy.”
“Mom?”
Sam nodded. “Weird, huh?”
“No weirder than you lately.” Dean made the turn onto Bobby’s street. “Maybe you should get some sleep when we get there.”
“I was just asleep Dean.”
“No, I mean the real kind, in a bed…for more than two or three hours.” He glanced aside at Sam again. “I mean it. I’ll get Bobby to give you something if I have to.”
Sam sighed and gave in. “Yeah, whatever. I am tired.”
“Good.” Dean stopped the car and Bobby emerged from the house, waving.
Sam followed his brother into the house, listened as he and Bobby bantered, then Dean was looking at him, and Sam could feel it. He turned and Dean flicked his eyes meaningfully to the stairs. Sam nodded, figuring Dean would explain to Bobby, and headed for the room where they crashed when they were here.
Sleep would do him good.
Everything was bright, beautiful. Jessica beamed. His mother was smiling and happy. Dean sat across from him, forcing a smile. Sam looked down at Jessica’s hand in his, at the ring. There was champagne, Carmen kissed Dean. There was no twinge of jealousy, no sting. Sam smiled at his brother. He was getting married to a beautiful woman and his mother was there, happy, proud.
The restaurant was crowded and there was a lot of distraction as they stood to leave.
Then Dean got a strange look on his face and wandered away. Sam watched, saw him chasing nothing. When Dean turned back around he looked confused, worried. The brightness dimmed. Something wasn’t right.
Sam opened his eyes. The room was still, quiet. Dean was asleep beside him. Sunlight lay in scattered puddles on the floor from the worn out and hole-filled curtains. Sam sat up slowly, working at not waking his brother. He padded on stocking feet to the window.
It was late afternoon. Bobby was down in the yard. Sam could hear him, but not see him. With a sigh, Sam pulled on his sneakers and headed down. There was the perpetual pot of coffee and Sam paused to pour a cup before he headed out into the yard. He followed the sounds of Bobby’s hands and tools against metal, rounded a pile of junkers and found Bobby, his head under the hood of an old El Camino.
“Sleep good?” Bobby asked without looking up.
“Yeah…it was good.” Sam answered, sipping on his coffee. “Thanks.”
“No thank you, and your brother, for dealing with that ghost. I’ve been swamped.”
Bobby stood up right and reached for a wrench. He stopped and squinted at Sam. “You okay?”
“Dean keeps asking me that too. I’m fine.”
Bobby shrugged. “Your brother worries. He loves you.”
“I know. But I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine. You look spooked.” He went back under the hood. Sam watched him for a bit, then inched closer.
“Bobby…what do you know about…djinn?”
Bobby straightened up and tossed the wrench, pulling a filthy rag from his pocket to wipe his hands. “Djinn?”
Sam nodded. He was holding his breath. “I mean, I know the basics. They’re said to bestow gifts, grant wishes, right?”
Bobby snorted. “For a price.”
“Right. But…what price?” He swallowed and paced away, setting his coffee down on the workbench. “I mean…none of the lore is overly specific.”
Bobby crossed his arms. “What’s this about?”
“Nothing….not really. I’m…curious.”
“Your brother says you’ve been having strange dreams, acting weird since that run in the other night with that crazy wizard guy. Said you cracked your head.”
Sam wasn’t sure if he should say anything. Wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “I—I don’t know. I’m having trouble remembering stuff. You know? Stuff I should know. And sometimes…I feel like…like it isn’t supposed to be like this.”
“Like what?”
Sam growled in frustration. “This. Me and Dean. Dad.”
Bobby took the few steps to Sam’s side, lifted a hand to Sam’s face. “This about your Daddy?”
Sam shook his head and sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe it is. I…I remember it different.”
“What do you remember?”
Sam took a deep breath. “Dean and I got Dad…went to the cabin. Dean thought Dad was possessed. I was scared.” Sam turned away. “Dad’s eyes went yellow. He had Dean against the wall, was squeezing the life out of him. There was blood. I broke free…got the colt. Shot him in the leg.”
“Sounds about how Dean tells the story, Sam.” Bobby said.
Sam shook his head. “No…I…He begged me to shoot him in the head. Ordered me. I couldn’t do it. Then the demon came out of him and we ran. Had to get Dean and Dad to a hospital. I drove.” He closed his eyes, remembering his desperation. “I kept trying to get them to talk to me. It was so quiet. I had to turn the radio on or I was going to go crazy with the quiet.”
He blew out slow, tried to gather himself. “I didn’t see it coming. Thought we were clear…then it just plowed into us. We didn’t stand a chance. I don’t know how long we laid there before someone found us, before they came for us…hours. I was in and out. When…when the doctors finally let me up…Dean was in a coma and Dad was…beat to hell. He sent me to you to get stuff. Said it was for protection, but it wasn’t. He…summoned the damn demon, traded his life for Dean’s.”
His last words had been angry, accusing. He should have known something was wrong…just from the look on his face, from the way he said he didn’t want to fight. Should have known.
He realized Bobby was still there, still looking at him. He shook his head. “I know…I sound…like I’m just trying to make it not my fault, right?” Sam dragged a hand through his hair. He was starting to wonder what was real.
“It wasn’t your fault, Son. You did the right thing.”
Sam closed his eyes. Maybe he really was just going crazy. Maybe the guilt was driving him to reach for anything to make it go away. “I don’t know, Bobby…It seems so real. And not just that…this whole…other life.” He shook his head and looked away.
Dean.
Sam blinked. The apparition looked different. His eyes darker, sunken. They looked through him. Sam shivered.
“Sam?”
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them, Dean was gone. “Yeah, Bobby. I’m okay.”
“You keep saying that.” Bobby said. “I’m thinking maybe you and Dean need some down time. You’ve been running full tilt since your Daddy died. I know a place, quiet, sanctified ground. You boys could rest, get your heads on straight.”
