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phantismaFandom: Stargate Atlantis/Supernatural Crossover
Title: Don't Think We're in Kansas, Chapter 12 (Previous Chapters found Here)
Pairings/Characters: (this chapter) Ronon/Sam, Dean, John, Bobby, mention of Agent Henriksen
Word Count: 2260 (this chapter)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Sam and Dean deal with the fall out of their confrontation with YED. Ronon tries to help. John is trapped between the boys and the government.
A/Ns & Warnings: This is a bunny "given" to me by denyce. I don't know if she knew what she was getting into. Um. So...warnings. This is a slave fic. This is Dean slave fic...nothing like the OTHER slave!Dean fic. This is new and different. This will involve dubious on, and kinky, kinky sex.
“Henriksen says your father killed his brother.” John said, leaning against the wall in Dean’s hospital room.
“In case you hadn’t noticed, Henriksen is a few pancakes short of a stack.” Dean replied.
Sam’s face was concerned as he looked to Dean. In the last two days John had found that whatever Sam had been through had changed him, including a sudden increase in the connections he shared both with Dean and with John.
“He seems pretty sure. Says you were there too Dean.” He pushed off the wall and moved toward the bed. “Says your father rambled about a werewolf.”
Dean shifted, his face tensing and his hand shooting up to the bandages on his shoulder. “Wait, werewolf? Where?”
“Memphis. Said your father shot him. Said you were there, that you kept him from helping his brother.”
“Memphis? That would have been…what? Five years ago?”
“Something like that.” John said.
Dean glanced aside at Sam. “Just before you left. You’d gone to that shop in Nashville to pick up Dad’s kit. Dad caught wind of what sounded like a werewolf outside Memphis.” He shook his head. “That was Henricksen?”
John could feel unease rolling around Dean’s stomach that was more than the nausea brought on by the painkillers in his system. “No wonder he’s got it bad for us. I had to take him out…wasn’t easy. His brother…he’d already killed five people. Chased him into a cemetery. Never knew he was FBI.”
“Well, he wasn’t. Yet. Joined them right after. Been hunting you ever since.”
Sam’s face paled and John caught an echo of an image. Gray-white skin glowing in the moonlight, teeth, broken nails.
“Sam.” Dean reached for him, but Sam pulled away, wheeling his chair out of Dean’s reach.
“I’m fine.”
“Like hell.”
There were waves of pain and sorrow in Sam’s wake as he moved to the door. John caught him in the hallway. “Hey.”
Sam closed his eyes and shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
John sighed. “Just help me out here. I’m out of my depth.” He squatted beside the chair. “I’m trying to keep up, but I can’t when you shut me out.”
Sam shook his head. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
“Like hell.”
They both looked up and Sam’s eyes widened. “Dean, you need to be in bed.”
“Don’t make this about me.” Dean pulled his IV stand with him, reaching for John for support. John got the same image repeated from Dean’s head, only this time he could see more, a woman transforming into some…thing.
“Who was she?” John asked gently.
“No one.” Sam sighed explosively. “We hardly knew her. And this isn’t about Madison, Dean.” Sam’s was reacting like he was angry, but all John could feel from him was fear.
“No?” Dean asked. “Then why is my head filled with her right now?”
“Your head, not mine.”
“Bull shit.”
Sam yanked his hand free of Dean’s and set off down the hall. Dean took a step to follow, but John could feel the pain lancing through him and wrapped an arm around his waist. “Okay, let’s get you back into bed.”
He thought Dean might argue, but then he just sagged and let John help him back into the room.
“Sam killed her.” Dean said softly. “And I don’t think he’s ever forgiven himself.”
“Her?” John waved a hand at his head. “This beautiful woman in my head?”
Dean nodded. “Madison. She was a werewolf. Didn’t know it. We thought we could fix her…you know? She and Sam…they were…together after. Then, she turned again. Could have killed Sam. She begged him.” Dean looked up at him with tears in his eyes. “I would have done it for him, but…he wouldn’t let me.”
John at least understood how they’d gone from talking about Henricksen to Sam’s hasty departure. “I better go find him.”
Sam stopped when he got far enough away that Dean’s every breath didn’t feel like it was coming from Sam’s lungs.
He felt John coming, but still jumped when he spoke.
“You going to tell me what’s going on with you? Or do I have to keep guessing?”
Sam didn’t look up at him. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“No?” John moved around Sam, leaning against the plastic planter against the wall. “How about you try me anyway.”
Sam just scowled and crossed his arms. He wasn’t even sure he understood.
John sighed. “Look, Sam…I get that you and Dean are part of this super secret group that hunts the stuff most of us don’t want to admit exists, and that there are secrets. Believe me. I get that. But this is something more.”
John scratched at his head. “Dean is afraid for you. He hasn’t said it exactly, but he shot you back there. Knowing what I know about you two, that’s pretty significant.”
“He was right. I told him to.” Sam sighed. He could taste the iron in the bullet as it tore into him, feel the anguish that bled into Dean’s veins. “He thought he lost me.”
Maybe he had.
Sam could feel it there inside him. Coiled up and sleeping in his heart. It was all there…he only needed to want it and it would rise up, filling him with the dark. And he’d be no different than poor Ava.
He sighed and hung his head. Sweet Ava. Heaven knew he was no where near as innocent or sweet as she had been.
John was suddenly in his space, his hands rising to Sam’s face. “Hey. I can feel all of that.”
Sam blinked and looked up at him. “What?”
John shook his head. “It started when you and Dean were getting tortured. I’m reading you loud and clear.”
Sam frowned up at him. “I thought you were connected to Dean.”
John nodded. “Me too.”
“I’m sorry.”
John sighed and stood up. “I wish you’d stop apologizing. None of this is your fault.” John dragged a hand through his hair.
Sam felt a rush of arousal from John and looked up. His own desire swept through him as Ronon stopped. “Landry’s looking for you.”
John rolled his eyes. “Alright.” He looked down at Sam. “You okay?”
“I keep telling you I’m fine.” Sam said.
John leaned down to his ear. “I’m hearing you, but not feeling you.” He stood and looked at Ronon. “Keep an eye on them.”
“Expecting trouble?”
“The sooner we get home to Atlantis the happier I’ll be.”
John stalked off and Sam tried to head off to his room, but Ronon’s hand on the back of his chair stopped him. Sam sighed. “I’m tired.”
“Right. You always make that face when you’re tired.”
“What would you know?” Sam snapped, then shook his head. “I just want to be alone.”
“Sheppard told me to keep an eye on you.”
“Dean needs you more.”
“Don’t think so.” The chair started to move and Sam took his hands off the wheels. “See I may not have some alien collar telling me what you’re feeling, but I got eyes.”
He parked the chair next to Sam’s bed and offered his arm for leverage. Sam gripped his wrist and hauled himself out of the chair. It took a minute to maneuver into the bed, but he sighed as he sank into the pillows.
His wound from the gunshot wasn’t bad. It had passed cleanly through without hitting anything important, but the torture that the yellow-eyed demon had inflicted had left him with bruised internal organs. Dean was in worse shape though. Because in the end the demon wanted Sam and Dean was nothing but collateral damage…a means to an end. A way to break Sam.
Suddenly Ronon was kissing him, pressing him back against the bed. When his big hand closed over the bandage in his side and pressed in, Sam hissed, arching up under him.
Ronon raised an eyebrow in challenge. Sam was hard, even as he turned his face away and tried to deny it. Ronon’s thumb caressed over the bandage, just pressing in enough for Sam to feel it.
“More?”
Sam shook his head, his hand circling Ronon’s wrist, but not pulling it away.
“I think you’re lying.” Ronon leaned in, climbing up on the bed until he was straddling Sam’s legs. “I think you want me to hurt you.”
He pressed in with his thumb, and at the same time rubbed his groin against Sam’s cock, which wasn’t hiding at all under the thin cotton of the hospital scrubs. Sam moaned before he could bite it off.
“You think too much.” Ronon whispered thickly. His body moved against Sam’s in counterpoint to the way his thumb was moving over his wound.
Sam couldn’t argue…couldn’t think at all as his cock twitched and spewed.
Ronon grinned down at him and jumped off the bed, dropping into the chair beside him and kicking his legs up onto the bed. “Feel better?”
Sam chuckled and nodded. It didn’t fix anything, but he did feel better. He could only hope he hadn’t bothered John…or Dean for that matter. Well, not too much anyway.
Dean leaned over the hood of his car with a soft rag, gently wiping at some spot he was sure he saw. His left arm was still in a sling, and his head still pounded if he was on his feet too long, but their trip home was coming to an end.
“You two need a room?” Sam asked, his hands in his pockets and well away from the wax job Dean had spent hours on.
“Funny.” Dean stepped back to admire his work. “I don’t like leaving her.”
He could feel the rolling eyes and looked up. “Don’t.”
“We’re going to be late.”
Dean sighed and nodded. Sam was all gung ho over going back. The whole thing with the yellow-eyed son-of-a-bitch had left Sam wanting out of the hunting thing even more than before he left for school.
Not that Dean could blame him. Truth was, Dean wanted Sam as far away from that bastard as he could take him, too. He knew Sam well enough to know that if it meant Dean’s life, he’d do what the demon wanted, become what the demon wanted him to be.
There were footsteps and Dean looked up. “Your ride’s here.” Bobby said, scuffing to a stop beside Sam.
“You’ll take good care of her?”
Bobby fixed him with a glare that made Dean squirm. He tossed the keys to the older man and sighed.
“Guess this is it then.” He hadn’t expected it to be so hard to leave.
“You boys look out for each other.” Bobby took off his hat and scratched his head before Sam opened his arms for a hug.
“We will.”
“Whatever crazy shit you got yourselves into.”
Dean moved in for a hug himself. “You know how to reach us if you need us.”
“I mean it. You two watch each other’s backs.”
Dean grinned, because watching Sam’s back usually led to leering at his ass anymore. Sam smacked him and headed out toward the front of the house. John had given them a few days to spend quietly here at Bobby’s while he and Ronon hung out near enough to make John comfortable.
Now, he stood beside the government car waiting. Dean grabbed his duffle off the porch and headed for the car.
“Where’s Ronon?” Sam asked as Dean opened the passenger side door.
Dean was nearly jealous of the big guy. He and Sam seemed to spend a lot of time together at the hospital…and Sam mentioned him a lot. Though, it kind of made him horny too. No denying the sight of the two of them going at one another did a lot for him.
John looked at Dean, licking his lips. It was easy to tell what he was thinking, even if he couldn’t feel it. “He, ah, headed back early.”
Sam looked disappointed, but tried to hide it as he got in the car.
“Did you two have a fight?” Sam asked suddenly.
John looked disturbed by the question. “No. We don’t…fight.”
Sam scowled at him. Dean couldn’t read the varying emotions roiling through his brother. “About Henricksen?” Sam’s eyes were half closed.
John swerved off the road. “Stop that.” He threw the car in park and all but climbed over the seat.
Sam’s eyes opened, startled. John was angry. Dean hadn’t sensed that until just that moment. “Ronon disagreed with the military’s handling of Henricksen.”
“Which you supported?” Dean offered.
John rolled his head, cracking his neck. “I kind of have to. It’s my job. And my track record with Landry is a little…rocky.”
“What did they do to him?”
“Sent him back to the FBI.” Sam said, looking to John for confirmation. “He’ll be reprimanded, but keep his position.”
John shifted back into his seat. “I fought to get him fired…but if they believe you two, it wasn’t entirely his fault. And if they don’t believe you two? That’s a whole different can of worms.”
Sam sighed and seemed to sink back into the seat. It felt like he was on the verge of apologizing again. Before he could John sighed explosively.
“And stop that too. I know you’re sorry, and you wish you could fix it. I know you didn’t ask for this and I’m sorry too. Just. Stop.”
Sam nodded and turned out the window. John put the car back in drive and headed out onto the road again. It was going to be a long ride back to Colorado.
Title: Don't Think We're in Kansas, Chapter 12 (Previous Chapters found Here)
Pairings/Characters: (this chapter) Ronon/Sam, Dean, John, Bobby, mention of Agent Henriksen
Word Count: 2260 (this chapter)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Sam and Dean deal with the fall out of their confrontation with YED. Ronon tries to help. John is trapped between the boys and the government.
A/Ns & Warnings: This is a bunny "given" to me by denyce. I don't know if she knew what she was getting into. Um. So...warnings. This is a slave fic. This is Dean slave fic...nothing like the OTHER slave!Dean fic. This is new and different. This will involve dubious on, and kinky, kinky sex.
“Henriksen says your father killed his brother.” John said, leaning against the wall in Dean’s hospital room.
“In case you hadn’t noticed, Henriksen is a few pancakes short of a stack.” Dean replied.
Sam’s face was concerned as he looked to Dean. In the last two days John had found that whatever Sam had been through had changed him, including a sudden increase in the connections he shared both with Dean and with John.
“He seems pretty sure. Says you were there too Dean.” He pushed off the wall and moved toward the bed. “Says your father rambled about a werewolf.”
Dean shifted, his face tensing and his hand shooting up to the bandages on his shoulder. “Wait, werewolf? Where?”
“Memphis. Said your father shot him. Said you were there, that you kept him from helping his brother.”
“Memphis? That would have been…what? Five years ago?”
“Something like that.” John said.
Dean glanced aside at Sam. “Just before you left. You’d gone to that shop in Nashville to pick up Dad’s kit. Dad caught wind of what sounded like a werewolf outside Memphis.” He shook his head. “That was Henricksen?”
John could feel unease rolling around Dean’s stomach that was more than the nausea brought on by the painkillers in his system. “No wonder he’s got it bad for us. I had to take him out…wasn’t easy. His brother…he’d already killed five people. Chased him into a cemetery. Never knew he was FBI.”
“Well, he wasn’t. Yet. Joined them right after. Been hunting you ever since.”
Sam’s face paled and John caught an echo of an image. Gray-white skin glowing in the moonlight, teeth, broken nails.
“Sam.” Dean reached for him, but Sam pulled away, wheeling his chair out of Dean’s reach.
“I’m fine.”
“Like hell.”
There were waves of pain and sorrow in Sam’s wake as he moved to the door. John caught him in the hallway. “Hey.”
Sam closed his eyes and shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
John sighed. “Just help me out here. I’m out of my depth.” He squatted beside the chair. “I’m trying to keep up, but I can’t when you shut me out.”
Sam shook his head. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
“Like hell.”
They both looked up and Sam’s eyes widened. “Dean, you need to be in bed.”
“Don’t make this about me.” Dean pulled his IV stand with him, reaching for John for support. John got the same image repeated from Dean’s head, only this time he could see more, a woman transforming into some…thing.
“Who was she?” John asked gently.
“No one.” Sam sighed explosively. “We hardly knew her. And this isn’t about Madison, Dean.” Sam’s was reacting like he was angry, but all John could feel from him was fear.
“No?” Dean asked. “Then why is my head filled with her right now?”
“Your head, not mine.”
“Bull shit.”
Sam yanked his hand free of Dean’s and set off down the hall. Dean took a step to follow, but John could feel the pain lancing through him and wrapped an arm around his waist. “Okay, let’s get you back into bed.”
He thought Dean might argue, but then he just sagged and let John help him back into the room.
“Sam killed her.” Dean said softly. “And I don’t think he’s ever forgiven himself.”
“Her?” John waved a hand at his head. “This beautiful woman in my head?”
Dean nodded. “Madison. She was a werewolf. Didn’t know it. We thought we could fix her…you know? She and Sam…they were…together after. Then, she turned again. Could have killed Sam. She begged him.” Dean looked up at him with tears in his eyes. “I would have done it for him, but…he wouldn’t let me.”
John at least understood how they’d gone from talking about Henricksen to Sam’s hasty departure. “I better go find him.”
Sam stopped when he got far enough away that Dean’s every breath didn’t feel like it was coming from Sam’s lungs.
He felt John coming, but still jumped when he spoke.
“You going to tell me what’s going on with you? Or do I have to keep guessing?”
Sam didn’t look up at him. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“No?” John moved around Sam, leaning against the plastic planter against the wall. “How about you try me anyway.”
Sam just scowled and crossed his arms. He wasn’t even sure he understood.
John sighed. “Look, Sam…I get that you and Dean are part of this super secret group that hunts the stuff most of us don’t want to admit exists, and that there are secrets. Believe me. I get that. But this is something more.”
John scratched at his head. “Dean is afraid for you. He hasn’t said it exactly, but he shot you back there. Knowing what I know about you two, that’s pretty significant.”
“He was right. I told him to.” Sam sighed. He could taste the iron in the bullet as it tore into him, feel the anguish that bled into Dean’s veins. “He thought he lost me.”
Maybe he had.
Sam could feel it there inside him. Coiled up and sleeping in his heart. It was all there…he only needed to want it and it would rise up, filling him with the dark. And he’d be no different than poor Ava.
He sighed and hung his head. Sweet Ava. Heaven knew he was no where near as innocent or sweet as she had been.
John was suddenly in his space, his hands rising to Sam’s face. “Hey. I can feel all of that.”
Sam blinked and looked up at him. “What?”
John shook his head. “It started when you and Dean were getting tortured. I’m reading you loud and clear.”
Sam frowned up at him. “I thought you were connected to Dean.”
John nodded. “Me too.”
“I’m sorry.”
John sighed and stood up. “I wish you’d stop apologizing. None of this is your fault.” John dragged a hand through his hair.
Sam felt a rush of arousal from John and looked up. His own desire swept through him as Ronon stopped. “Landry’s looking for you.”
John rolled his eyes. “Alright.” He looked down at Sam. “You okay?”
“I keep telling you I’m fine.” Sam said.
John leaned down to his ear. “I’m hearing you, but not feeling you.” He stood and looked at Ronon. “Keep an eye on them.”
“Expecting trouble?”
“The sooner we get home to Atlantis the happier I’ll be.”
John stalked off and Sam tried to head off to his room, but Ronon’s hand on the back of his chair stopped him. Sam sighed. “I’m tired.”
“Right. You always make that face when you’re tired.”
“What would you know?” Sam snapped, then shook his head. “I just want to be alone.”
“Sheppard told me to keep an eye on you.”
“Dean needs you more.”
“Don’t think so.” The chair started to move and Sam took his hands off the wheels. “See I may not have some alien collar telling me what you’re feeling, but I got eyes.”
He parked the chair next to Sam’s bed and offered his arm for leverage. Sam gripped his wrist and hauled himself out of the chair. It took a minute to maneuver into the bed, but he sighed as he sank into the pillows.
His wound from the gunshot wasn’t bad. It had passed cleanly through without hitting anything important, but the torture that the yellow-eyed demon had inflicted had left him with bruised internal organs. Dean was in worse shape though. Because in the end the demon wanted Sam and Dean was nothing but collateral damage…a means to an end. A way to break Sam.
Suddenly Ronon was kissing him, pressing him back against the bed. When his big hand closed over the bandage in his side and pressed in, Sam hissed, arching up under him.
Ronon raised an eyebrow in challenge. Sam was hard, even as he turned his face away and tried to deny it. Ronon’s thumb caressed over the bandage, just pressing in enough for Sam to feel it.
“More?”
Sam shook his head, his hand circling Ronon’s wrist, but not pulling it away.
“I think you’re lying.” Ronon leaned in, climbing up on the bed until he was straddling Sam’s legs. “I think you want me to hurt you.”
He pressed in with his thumb, and at the same time rubbed his groin against Sam’s cock, which wasn’t hiding at all under the thin cotton of the hospital scrubs. Sam moaned before he could bite it off.
“You think too much.” Ronon whispered thickly. His body moved against Sam’s in counterpoint to the way his thumb was moving over his wound.
Sam couldn’t argue…couldn’t think at all as his cock twitched and spewed.
Ronon grinned down at him and jumped off the bed, dropping into the chair beside him and kicking his legs up onto the bed. “Feel better?”
Sam chuckled and nodded. It didn’t fix anything, but he did feel better. He could only hope he hadn’t bothered John…or Dean for that matter. Well, not too much anyway.
Dean leaned over the hood of his car with a soft rag, gently wiping at some spot he was sure he saw. His left arm was still in a sling, and his head still pounded if he was on his feet too long, but their trip home was coming to an end.
“You two need a room?” Sam asked, his hands in his pockets and well away from the wax job Dean had spent hours on.
“Funny.” Dean stepped back to admire his work. “I don’t like leaving her.”
He could feel the rolling eyes and looked up. “Don’t.”
“We’re going to be late.”
Dean sighed and nodded. Sam was all gung ho over going back. The whole thing with the yellow-eyed son-of-a-bitch had left Sam wanting out of the hunting thing even more than before he left for school.
Not that Dean could blame him. Truth was, Dean wanted Sam as far away from that bastard as he could take him, too. He knew Sam well enough to know that if it meant Dean’s life, he’d do what the demon wanted, become what the demon wanted him to be.
There were footsteps and Dean looked up. “Your ride’s here.” Bobby said, scuffing to a stop beside Sam.
“You’ll take good care of her?”
Bobby fixed him with a glare that made Dean squirm. He tossed the keys to the older man and sighed.
“Guess this is it then.” He hadn’t expected it to be so hard to leave.
“You boys look out for each other.” Bobby took off his hat and scratched his head before Sam opened his arms for a hug.
“We will.”
“Whatever crazy shit you got yourselves into.”
Dean moved in for a hug himself. “You know how to reach us if you need us.”
“I mean it. You two watch each other’s backs.”
Dean grinned, because watching Sam’s back usually led to leering at his ass anymore. Sam smacked him and headed out toward the front of the house. John had given them a few days to spend quietly here at Bobby’s while he and Ronon hung out near enough to make John comfortable.
Now, he stood beside the government car waiting. Dean grabbed his duffle off the porch and headed for the car.
“Where’s Ronon?” Sam asked as Dean opened the passenger side door.
Dean was nearly jealous of the big guy. He and Sam seemed to spend a lot of time together at the hospital…and Sam mentioned him a lot. Though, it kind of made him horny too. No denying the sight of the two of them going at one another did a lot for him.
John looked at Dean, licking his lips. It was easy to tell what he was thinking, even if he couldn’t feel it. “He, ah, headed back early.”
Sam looked disappointed, but tried to hide it as he got in the car.
“Did you two have a fight?” Sam asked suddenly.
John looked disturbed by the question. “No. We don’t…fight.”
Sam scowled at him. Dean couldn’t read the varying emotions roiling through his brother. “About Henricksen?” Sam’s eyes were half closed.
John swerved off the road. “Stop that.” He threw the car in park and all but climbed over the seat.
Sam’s eyes opened, startled. John was angry. Dean hadn’t sensed that until just that moment. “Ronon disagreed with the military’s handling of Henricksen.”
“Which you supported?” Dean offered.
John rolled his head, cracking his neck. “I kind of have to. It’s my job. And my track record with Landry is a little…rocky.”
“What did they do to him?”
“Sent him back to the FBI.” Sam said, looking to John for confirmation. “He’ll be reprimanded, but keep his position.”
John shifted back into his seat. “I fought to get him fired…but if they believe you two, it wasn’t entirely his fault. And if they don’t believe you two? That’s a whole different can of worms.”
Sam sighed and seemed to sink back into the seat. It felt like he was on the verge of apologizing again. Before he could John sighed explosively.
“And stop that too. I know you’re sorry, and you wish you could fix it. I know you didn’t ask for this and I’m sorry too. Just. Stop.”
Sam nodded and turned out the window. John put the car back in drive and headed out onto the road again. It was going to be a long ride back to Colorado.
