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phantismaFandom: Supernatural
Title: My Brother's Keeper, Part Ten(Part One Here, Part Two Here, Part Three Here, Part Four Here, Part Five Here, Part Six Here, Part Seven Here, Part Eight Here, Part Nine Here)
Characters/Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Table: #1
Prompt: 021 New
Word Count: 2785
Summary: Complete AU. On the night the demon kills Mary Winchester, John saves Dean, but before he can go back for Sam, the fire spreads. It is assumed that Sam is dead along with his mother. In reality, he has been taken and is raised by a family dedicate to the demon who killed Mary. One night after a hunt, Dean runs into him in a bar in Palo Alto, never a clue who he really is.
Warnings: Overall-Incest, m/m sex, blood play, bondage, non-con. Evil-ness abounds--Babies and demons and blood and come...There is no sex here...alas...but sex is coming in the next bit....this is mostly plotty and character development....
This is my twenty-ninth ficlet for my Supernatural claim on![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
100_situations. Clicky for table
Dean let himself relax a little. Dana was content in his arms, her tiny fingers curled around his, her mouth curved in a toothless smile. As far as he could tell, she hadn’t suffered any ill effects from the trauma, other than being left motherless. He hadn’t yet wrapped his mind around it all. He was still in reaction mode.
Sam was asleep on the other side of the room, stitched up, bandaged and drugged into oblivion. His father had gone out to get stuff they would need for the baby. For the moment it was just Dean and his daughter. His daughter.
He hadn’t seen Cassie in…at least a year. Their last time together had been filled with fights, because Dean had let himself think he could have something normal, or whatever passed for normal for a Winchester. She thought he was crazy. Maybe he was. Maybe they all were.
Of course, that didn’t bode well for the baby girl in his arms. Dean shook his head and she gurgled. He didn’t even realize he was crying until he saw the tears splash against her face. He felt like his insides were cracked and broken and the messy stuff he’d spent a lifetime burying was oozing out.
It was over…and yet it was only beginning. He looked up as the door opened and John stepped in and over the salt line. He smiled at Dean as he set the bags on the table. “How is she?”
Dean cocked his head at Dana who was sucking on his finger. “Fine…she seems to be a happy baby.”
“Well, I picked up some clothes, formula, bottles. She’s probably ready for cereal.”
Dean grinned as he watched his father setting his items out on the table, especially when the teddy bear emerged. “What?”
“Nothing. I’ve never seen you…like this.”
“Like what?”
Dean met his eyes with his own. “Happy.”
John chuckled and reached for Dana. “Give me my grandbaby, and make her a bottle. She’s got to be hungry.”
“Yes sir.” Dean let John take the baby and watched as the older man grabbed a bag and moved over to the bed to change her diaper and dress her in warm pajamas. Dean grabbed the canister of formula and skimmed over the directions before pulling open the package of bottles his father had brought. The tiny hotel room didn’t have a microwave, so he had to settle for running hot water in the bathroom sink to clean them.
By the time he’d emerged, John had Dana dressed and was holding the teddy bear where she could see it. “Here.” He handed the bottle across and John took it with a nod. They both watched as Dana reached up for it. Once she’d settled the nipple into her mouth, John looked up at his son.
“What about him?”
Dean leaned on the wall near the bed Sam slept in. and sighed. “We can’t keep him drugged forever.” He had avoided touching Sam since the warehouse, very conscious of the reaction his body still had.
“No, but we can’t trust him.”
“No.” He scrubbed a hand over his scruffy face. Idly he wondered how long it had been since he’d shaved. “He’s…manipulative. Beyond the whole compulsion/hex thing.” He hadn’t told his father the whole story…that Sam had used sex to snare him…that he’d been fucked by his baby brother in more ways than one…that even now he wanted him, even knowing the truth. He recognized so much of what had passed between them since they met now as plain manipulation. “But, I don’t think what happened in that warehouse was what he was expecting.”
“That doesn’t make him innocent.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“I understand why you had to save him, Dean. I just…I’m not sure why you need him here.”
Dean shook his head. “You’d rather just leave him out there somewhere?” He pushed off the wall and paced a little. “I need to…I don’t know. Get rid of the hex, if nothing else.”
John nodded. “We can work on it tomorrow.” He yawned.
Dean came to stand between the beds, looking down at Sam’s face. It seemed so innocent and peaceful as he slept. “You sleep, Dad. I’ll watch him.”
“You need to sleep too.”
Dean nodded. “I will. He’s due for his next dose in a few hours. Then I’ll sleep.”
John kicked off his shoes and laid Dana down on the bed before standing up to pull off his jacket and jeans. Dean turned off the bedside light as his father settled into bed with his daughter. His daughter.
Dean fell into the chair heavily, his eyes moving over her tiny form before skipping back to Sam’s. He wanted nothing more than to just turn his brain off and float on the victory, but it played out in his head every time he closed his eyes. He’d made a promise…a promise he hadn’t been able to keep. He watched her body fall, crashing into the ground…felt her blood as it rushed out of her.
With a deep breath, Dean leaned back in the chair, his eyes on Sam’s face. That was at least some of why Sam had been so important to him. His promise to Sam had been partially due to the compulsion, but it was still a promise. With a frustrated sigh, Dean got up and headed for the bathroom to shower. He could still feel Sam’s blood on his skin, more than forty-eight hours later.
With the water running over his skin, Dean let his mind go blank, fell into the irregular pattern of drops on his skin and held to the numbness. He could go back to the draining fight to just keep functioning after…after what he wasn’t sure…he just wanted everything to stop for a few hours so he could catch up…so he could breathe…grieve…understand.
The holes in his memory from the last few days weren’t as dark as they had been. Not that he actually remembered more than brief flashes of images…words…and sex. Dean groaned and turned so that the water spray was hitting his back.
The sex…well, he’d never had anything that compared…it was as if Sam could read his mind, knew exactly what kink button to press to push him. Dean gasped as he realized that the idea wasn’t so far fetched…okay maybe not straight up mind reading, but the demon had called Sam a Seer. Dean punched the wall and cussed.
His life had always been pretty fucked up. He could admit that easily enough. But this was new and different and now he had a new life to consider. A daughter, an infant. It had been just his father and him for so long, Dean didn’t know how to make it fit…didn’t know how to make them fit.
For now, all he could do was turn off the water and put on dry clothes, clothes that didn’t smell like Sam, and wait for the time to dose his brother into oblivion before crawling into bed to try to shut down the thoughts and emotions and images for at least a few hours. After that, he’d send his father and daughter out for a walk and have a conversation with Sam. One that didn’t end with the two of them tearing at each other’s flesh.
Dean watched Sam’s eyes open slowly, cautiously. They swept over the motel room and up to Dean’s. “Where are we?”
“Motel. Rhode Island.”
Sam nodded and looked down at himself. His arms and legs were wrapped in bandages, but he wasn’t bound. He shifted so that he was sitting with his back to the headboard. “Where are…” He looked pointedly at the other bed.
Dean’s jaw clenched. “Not here.”
“You…you’re…”
“Mad? Angry? Confused? Hurt? Homicidal?” Dean didn’t move from his spot in the chair across the room. His eyes stayed locked on Sam’s.
“Dean.”
“No. We’re not doing that.”
“I could make you.”
Dean quirked a smile. “Maybe. Maybe not.” He was fairly certain that if Sam spoke the word he’d have little choice but to obey, but Sam had fucked with his head enough that a little turn around was fair play. “I want you to tell me what the fuck that was all about back there in that warehouse. And for a change, I want the truth.”
“I haven’t always lied to you.”
Dean fixed him with a look that said quiet pointedly that he didn’t believe that and Sam held up his hands. “Okay, I’m serious Dean. Yes I lied. I lied a lot. But…not all of it was a lie.”
“Tell me one thing that wasn’t a lie.”
“I didn’t know who you were when I met you.” Sam didn’t blink, just let his burning green eyes speak for him. “Not until I came home. I really did dream about you, for a week before that night. I dreamed about you and a different life. Away from Stanford and Boston and everything I’d ever known.”
Dean thought he might just be honest about it, but he didn’t let it soften his resolve. “And when you did know?”
Sam sighed, his hands rising shakily to pull his hair back out of his eyes. “I can tell you what I thought was going on, if that will make you happy.”
“It’s a start.”
“When…my father…found out about you, and realized who you were, he said that made everything perfect, told me to get ready to seduce you. He didn’t tell me you were…that we were…related, only that he needed you fucked up, wanted to get you to kill your father. That’s what I thought was going to happen. I get you to give me control, you kill your old man and then you stay with me.”
“As what, your sex slave?”
Sam actually blushed, his fingers picking at the obscenely floral bedspread. “I really did feel—“
“No. I said we aren’t going there.” Dean shifted. “What about Dana? What was it doing with my daughter?”
Sam’s hands rubbed over his face and he adjusted his position a little. “I-I—that wasn’t…I didn’t know anything about that Dean, I swear.”
“I gathered that from the bleeding and the restraints.” Dean said quietly. “What was he doing?”
Sam paled and glanced around as if someone might over hear him. “Just because I was raised…the way I was raised doesn’t mean I know everything.” Dean didn’t blink, didn’t move. Sam sighed and shook his head. “Okay…from what I know, and its only theory mind you, it was a very ancient…a ritual that allows an upper level demon to enter an infant…permanently. No exorcism, no killing…nothing short of other Demons destroying it.”
Dean exhaled slowly. “How?”
“It starts with a Seer, someone with gifts…telekinesis, telepathy, etc. It must be a full grown human, with the gifts, strong gifts.”
“He said a Seer’s blood and Mother’s blood.”
“Mother of another Seer, an infant. The middle of it’s first year, the night it has lived 6 months. It only works if the two Seers are related by blood. Close blood.”
Dean nodded. “Like an uncle.”
Sam nodded. “Better if it’s a brother or sister or mother or father…but yes, uncle would work.”
“What does it do?” Dean wouldn’t look at him, his eyes stuck on a stain on the ugly green carpet, his rage ratcheting up another notch.
“I’m not clear on the details. Baptism in the mixture activates the infant’s power…which doesn’t usually come until puberty, opens her up, makes her powerful. The rest is really vague…it’s performed after the demon takes over the high priest, so the human texts don’t really go into detail…but ultimately, it would have been her…it would have…filled her and she would have…been gone.”
Dean looked up as Sam’s words softened, as his voice faded. For a long moment neither of them spoke. When Sam did, his voice dripped with misery. “It used me. It lied to me and used me.”
“I know the feeling.” Dean stood, pouring a glass of water and picking up a pill bottle. He dropped a tablet into his hand and crossed to Sam’s side. “Pain killers.”
“I—I don’t want to…go back to sleep, Dean.” Sam said.
“That’s the needle. When I want you to sleep, you’ll know it. Take the pills Sam. There’s no point in suffering more than you need to.”
“What are you planning to do with me?”
“I could ask you the same thing.” Dean started back to the chair then stopped and turned around. “What spell did you use? How do I undo it?”
“Its…a compulsory hex…my father used a variation of it on the help, so that they would forget things they shouldn’t know and obey orders even when they…when there were demons in the house and…” Sam shook his head. “I…modified it. I wanted…Fuck, Dean.”
Dean stood beside the bed, his fists clenching and unclenching. “Say it.”
“I wanted you.” Sam said and Dean shook his head. “I still do. I thought you wanted me too. I thought…if…if I…once you knew, you’d never let me touch you again.” Sam dared to look up, his hand rising as if to touch Dean’s arm. “And I couldn’t…couldn’t stand it if you didn’t want me.”
Dean dragged the stale motel air in through his nose in an attempt to control the surge of emotion, anger, desire, need. “Let me touch you, Dean.” Sam whispered and Dean felt the compulsion dig in, shuffling him close enough Sam could reach him. Dean stiffened as the skin of Sam’s hand, dry, chapped and rough, touched his own. “Love me.”
Dean closed his eyes as his mouth twitched. “I do, Sam,” he breathed just before he pulled his hand free and back handed Sam across the jaw. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t kick your ass if I have to.”
Sam’s head snapped to the side and tears welled in his eyes. There would be a nice bruise there in a few hours. “How do we undo it?”
“I…don’t know. I’d need the book, I’d have to have the standard counter hex—“ Dean raised his hand again and Sam cringed. “I’m not lying, Dean.”
“Maybe I just want to hit you.” Dean said with a lifted eyebrow and Sam’s face looked like that wasn’t something he had even considered.
“It will wear off…on its own, eventually.”
“How eventually?”
Sam shrugged helplessly. “It needs to be reinforced every few months. If it isn’t, it diminishes until its gone.”
Dean turned away, moving back to the chair. “Take the fucking pills Sam, or I swear I’m going to knock you out.”
The door opened and they both looked up expectantly at John with Dana in his arms. “You’re awake,” he said as Sam looked away, then he looked at Dean. “You two have a productive talk?”
Dean scowled and shook his head. “Take the fucking pills,” he growled over his shoulder at Sam who reached a shaky hands for the pills and glass of water.
“There’s dinner in the car.” John offered, turning to lay Dana down on the bed.
“I’ll get it.” Dean said, stalking out of the room. He reached the Impala and pulled the door open, reaching in for the bags of take out and freezing. A shiny and pink car seat smiled at him from the back seat. He stood up quickly, or tried to, forgetting to pull out of the car completely, and crashing his head into the car’s roof.
The pink plastic was too much…too real…Dean sat down hard on the gravel driveway of the motel and stared at it. Bottles and formula was one thing. This was something else. This was pink baby plastic…right there in the black embrace of the Impala.
Dean couldn’t even pretend anymore. He started laughing, crying…until his stomach hurt from the combination and he was having trouble catching his breath.
“Dean? Is everything okay?” His father’s voice reached through the haze and Dean picked himself up off the ground, shaking his head.
“I don’t know, Dad…I just don’t.” With a deep breath, he grabbed the bags and turned for the door, pushing the car door closed. He smiled for his father, but it wasn’t as solid as he would have liked. He set the bags on the table and shook his head again. “I…just don’t know…what to do anymore. I’m…It’s too much.” He said it softly, so that Sam wouldn’t hear him.
“You will, Son.” John said. “You need rest and time, but I have every confidence in you.”
Dean rolled his eyes. “Dad…there’s a baby seat in the Impala. A pink fucking baby seat.”
John chuckled. “Okay, so a lot of time.”
Title: My Brother's Keeper, Part Ten(Part One Here, Part Two Here, Part Three Here, Part Four Here, Part Five Here, Part Six Here, Part Seven Here, Part Eight Here, Part Nine Here)
Characters/Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Table: #1
Prompt: 021 New
Word Count: 2785
Summary: Complete AU. On the night the demon kills Mary Winchester, John saves Dean, but before he can go back for Sam, the fire spreads. It is assumed that Sam is dead along with his mother. In reality, he has been taken and is raised by a family dedicate to the demon who killed Mary. One night after a hunt, Dean runs into him in a bar in Palo Alto, never a clue who he really is.
Warnings: Overall-Incest, m/m sex, blood play, bondage, non-con. Evil-ness abounds--Babies and demons and blood and come...There is no sex here...alas...but sex is coming in the next bit....this is mostly plotty and character development....
This is my twenty-ninth ficlet for my Supernatural claim on
100_situations. Clicky for tableDean let himself relax a little. Dana was content in his arms, her tiny fingers curled around his, her mouth curved in a toothless smile. As far as he could tell, she hadn’t suffered any ill effects from the trauma, other than being left motherless. He hadn’t yet wrapped his mind around it all. He was still in reaction mode.
Sam was asleep on the other side of the room, stitched up, bandaged and drugged into oblivion. His father had gone out to get stuff they would need for the baby. For the moment it was just Dean and his daughter. His daughter.
He hadn’t seen Cassie in…at least a year. Their last time together had been filled with fights, because Dean had let himself think he could have something normal, or whatever passed for normal for a Winchester. She thought he was crazy. Maybe he was. Maybe they all were.
Of course, that didn’t bode well for the baby girl in his arms. Dean shook his head and she gurgled. He didn’t even realize he was crying until he saw the tears splash against her face. He felt like his insides were cracked and broken and the messy stuff he’d spent a lifetime burying was oozing out.
It was over…and yet it was only beginning. He looked up as the door opened and John stepped in and over the salt line. He smiled at Dean as he set the bags on the table. “How is she?”
Dean cocked his head at Dana who was sucking on his finger. “Fine…she seems to be a happy baby.”
“Well, I picked up some clothes, formula, bottles. She’s probably ready for cereal.”
Dean grinned as he watched his father setting his items out on the table, especially when the teddy bear emerged. “What?”
“Nothing. I’ve never seen you…like this.”
“Like what?”
Dean met his eyes with his own. “Happy.”
John chuckled and reached for Dana. “Give me my grandbaby, and make her a bottle. She’s got to be hungry.”
“Yes sir.” Dean let John take the baby and watched as the older man grabbed a bag and moved over to the bed to change her diaper and dress her in warm pajamas. Dean grabbed the canister of formula and skimmed over the directions before pulling open the package of bottles his father had brought. The tiny hotel room didn’t have a microwave, so he had to settle for running hot water in the bathroom sink to clean them.
By the time he’d emerged, John had Dana dressed and was holding the teddy bear where she could see it. “Here.” He handed the bottle across and John took it with a nod. They both watched as Dana reached up for it. Once she’d settled the nipple into her mouth, John looked up at his son.
“What about him?”
Dean leaned on the wall near the bed Sam slept in. and sighed. “We can’t keep him drugged forever.” He had avoided touching Sam since the warehouse, very conscious of the reaction his body still had.
“No, but we can’t trust him.”
“No.” He scrubbed a hand over his scruffy face. Idly he wondered how long it had been since he’d shaved. “He’s…manipulative. Beyond the whole compulsion/hex thing.” He hadn’t told his father the whole story…that Sam had used sex to snare him…that he’d been fucked by his baby brother in more ways than one…that even now he wanted him, even knowing the truth. He recognized so much of what had passed between them since they met now as plain manipulation. “But, I don’t think what happened in that warehouse was what he was expecting.”
“That doesn’t make him innocent.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“I understand why you had to save him, Dean. I just…I’m not sure why you need him here.”
Dean shook his head. “You’d rather just leave him out there somewhere?” He pushed off the wall and paced a little. “I need to…I don’t know. Get rid of the hex, if nothing else.”
John nodded. “We can work on it tomorrow.” He yawned.
Dean came to stand between the beds, looking down at Sam’s face. It seemed so innocent and peaceful as he slept. “You sleep, Dad. I’ll watch him.”
“You need to sleep too.”
Dean nodded. “I will. He’s due for his next dose in a few hours. Then I’ll sleep.”
John kicked off his shoes and laid Dana down on the bed before standing up to pull off his jacket and jeans. Dean turned off the bedside light as his father settled into bed with his daughter. His daughter.
Dean fell into the chair heavily, his eyes moving over her tiny form before skipping back to Sam’s. He wanted nothing more than to just turn his brain off and float on the victory, but it played out in his head every time he closed his eyes. He’d made a promise…a promise he hadn’t been able to keep. He watched her body fall, crashing into the ground…felt her blood as it rushed out of her.
With a deep breath, Dean leaned back in the chair, his eyes on Sam’s face. That was at least some of why Sam had been so important to him. His promise to Sam had been partially due to the compulsion, but it was still a promise. With a frustrated sigh, Dean got up and headed for the bathroom to shower. He could still feel Sam’s blood on his skin, more than forty-eight hours later.
With the water running over his skin, Dean let his mind go blank, fell into the irregular pattern of drops on his skin and held to the numbness. He could go back to the draining fight to just keep functioning after…after what he wasn’t sure…he just wanted everything to stop for a few hours so he could catch up…so he could breathe…grieve…understand.
The holes in his memory from the last few days weren’t as dark as they had been. Not that he actually remembered more than brief flashes of images…words…and sex. Dean groaned and turned so that the water spray was hitting his back.
The sex…well, he’d never had anything that compared…it was as if Sam could read his mind, knew exactly what kink button to press to push him. Dean gasped as he realized that the idea wasn’t so far fetched…okay maybe not straight up mind reading, but the demon had called Sam a Seer. Dean punched the wall and cussed.
His life had always been pretty fucked up. He could admit that easily enough. But this was new and different and now he had a new life to consider. A daughter, an infant. It had been just his father and him for so long, Dean didn’t know how to make it fit…didn’t know how to make them fit.
For now, all he could do was turn off the water and put on dry clothes, clothes that didn’t smell like Sam, and wait for the time to dose his brother into oblivion before crawling into bed to try to shut down the thoughts and emotions and images for at least a few hours. After that, he’d send his father and daughter out for a walk and have a conversation with Sam. One that didn’t end with the two of them tearing at each other’s flesh.
Dean watched Sam’s eyes open slowly, cautiously. They swept over the motel room and up to Dean’s. “Where are we?”
“Motel. Rhode Island.”
Sam nodded and looked down at himself. His arms and legs were wrapped in bandages, but he wasn’t bound. He shifted so that he was sitting with his back to the headboard. “Where are…” He looked pointedly at the other bed.
Dean’s jaw clenched. “Not here.”
“You…you’re…”
“Mad? Angry? Confused? Hurt? Homicidal?” Dean didn’t move from his spot in the chair across the room. His eyes stayed locked on Sam’s.
“Dean.”
“No. We’re not doing that.”
“I could make you.”
Dean quirked a smile. “Maybe. Maybe not.” He was fairly certain that if Sam spoke the word he’d have little choice but to obey, but Sam had fucked with his head enough that a little turn around was fair play. “I want you to tell me what the fuck that was all about back there in that warehouse. And for a change, I want the truth.”
“I haven’t always lied to you.”
Dean fixed him with a look that said quiet pointedly that he didn’t believe that and Sam held up his hands. “Okay, I’m serious Dean. Yes I lied. I lied a lot. But…not all of it was a lie.”
“Tell me one thing that wasn’t a lie.”
“I didn’t know who you were when I met you.” Sam didn’t blink, just let his burning green eyes speak for him. “Not until I came home. I really did dream about you, for a week before that night. I dreamed about you and a different life. Away from Stanford and Boston and everything I’d ever known.”
Dean thought he might just be honest about it, but he didn’t let it soften his resolve. “And when you did know?”
Sam sighed, his hands rising shakily to pull his hair back out of his eyes. “I can tell you what I thought was going on, if that will make you happy.”
“It’s a start.”
“When…my father…found out about you, and realized who you were, he said that made everything perfect, told me to get ready to seduce you. He didn’t tell me you were…that we were…related, only that he needed you fucked up, wanted to get you to kill your father. That’s what I thought was going to happen. I get you to give me control, you kill your old man and then you stay with me.”
“As what, your sex slave?”
Sam actually blushed, his fingers picking at the obscenely floral bedspread. “I really did feel—“
“No. I said we aren’t going there.” Dean shifted. “What about Dana? What was it doing with my daughter?”
Sam’s hands rubbed over his face and he adjusted his position a little. “I-I—that wasn’t…I didn’t know anything about that Dean, I swear.”
“I gathered that from the bleeding and the restraints.” Dean said quietly. “What was he doing?”
Sam paled and glanced around as if someone might over hear him. “Just because I was raised…the way I was raised doesn’t mean I know everything.” Dean didn’t blink, didn’t move. Sam sighed and shook his head. “Okay…from what I know, and its only theory mind you, it was a very ancient…a ritual that allows an upper level demon to enter an infant…permanently. No exorcism, no killing…nothing short of other Demons destroying it.”
Dean exhaled slowly. “How?”
“It starts with a Seer, someone with gifts…telekinesis, telepathy, etc. It must be a full grown human, with the gifts, strong gifts.”
“He said a Seer’s blood and Mother’s blood.”
“Mother of another Seer, an infant. The middle of it’s first year, the night it has lived 6 months. It only works if the two Seers are related by blood. Close blood.”
Dean nodded. “Like an uncle.”
Sam nodded. “Better if it’s a brother or sister or mother or father…but yes, uncle would work.”
“What does it do?” Dean wouldn’t look at him, his eyes stuck on a stain on the ugly green carpet, his rage ratcheting up another notch.
“I’m not clear on the details. Baptism in the mixture activates the infant’s power…which doesn’t usually come until puberty, opens her up, makes her powerful. The rest is really vague…it’s performed after the demon takes over the high priest, so the human texts don’t really go into detail…but ultimately, it would have been her…it would have…filled her and she would have…been gone.”
Dean looked up as Sam’s words softened, as his voice faded. For a long moment neither of them spoke. When Sam did, his voice dripped with misery. “It used me. It lied to me and used me.”
“I know the feeling.” Dean stood, pouring a glass of water and picking up a pill bottle. He dropped a tablet into his hand and crossed to Sam’s side. “Pain killers.”
“I—I don’t want to…go back to sleep, Dean.” Sam said.
“That’s the needle. When I want you to sleep, you’ll know it. Take the pills Sam. There’s no point in suffering more than you need to.”
“What are you planning to do with me?”
“I could ask you the same thing.” Dean started back to the chair then stopped and turned around. “What spell did you use? How do I undo it?”
“Its…a compulsory hex…my father used a variation of it on the help, so that they would forget things they shouldn’t know and obey orders even when they…when there were demons in the house and…” Sam shook his head. “I…modified it. I wanted…Fuck, Dean.”
Dean stood beside the bed, his fists clenching and unclenching. “Say it.”
“I wanted you.” Sam said and Dean shook his head. “I still do. I thought you wanted me too. I thought…if…if I…once you knew, you’d never let me touch you again.” Sam dared to look up, his hand rising as if to touch Dean’s arm. “And I couldn’t…couldn’t stand it if you didn’t want me.”
Dean dragged the stale motel air in through his nose in an attempt to control the surge of emotion, anger, desire, need. “Let me touch you, Dean.” Sam whispered and Dean felt the compulsion dig in, shuffling him close enough Sam could reach him. Dean stiffened as the skin of Sam’s hand, dry, chapped and rough, touched his own. “Love me.”
Dean closed his eyes as his mouth twitched. “I do, Sam,” he breathed just before he pulled his hand free and back handed Sam across the jaw. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t kick your ass if I have to.”
Sam’s head snapped to the side and tears welled in his eyes. There would be a nice bruise there in a few hours. “How do we undo it?”
“I…don’t know. I’d need the book, I’d have to have the standard counter hex—“ Dean raised his hand again and Sam cringed. “I’m not lying, Dean.”
“Maybe I just want to hit you.” Dean said with a lifted eyebrow and Sam’s face looked like that wasn’t something he had even considered.
“It will wear off…on its own, eventually.”
“How eventually?”
Sam shrugged helplessly. “It needs to be reinforced every few months. If it isn’t, it diminishes until its gone.”
Dean turned away, moving back to the chair. “Take the fucking pills Sam, or I swear I’m going to knock you out.”
The door opened and they both looked up expectantly at John with Dana in his arms. “You’re awake,” he said as Sam looked away, then he looked at Dean. “You two have a productive talk?”
Dean scowled and shook his head. “Take the fucking pills,” he growled over his shoulder at Sam who reached a shaky hands for the pills and glass of water.
“There’s dinner in the car.” John offered, turning to lay Dana down on the bed.
“I’ll get it.” Dean said, stalking out of the room. He reached the Impala and pulled the door open, reaching in for the bags of take out and freezing. A shiny and pink car seat smiled at him from the back seat. He stood up quickly, or tried to, forgetting to pull out of the car completely, and crashing his head into the car’s roof.
The pink plastic was too much…too real…Dean sat down hard on the gravel driveway of the motel and stared at it. Bottles and formula was one thing. This was something else. This was pink baby plastic…right there in the black embrace of the Impala.
Dean couldn’t even pretend anymore. He started laughing, crying…until his stomach hurt from the combination and he was having trouble catching his breath.
“Dean? Is everything okay?” His father’s voice reached through the haze and Dean picked himself up off the ground, shaking his head.
“I don’t know, Dad…I just don’t.” With a deep breath, he grabbed the bags and turned for the door, pushing the car door closed. He smiled for his father, but it wasn’t as solid as he would have liked. He set the bags on the table and shook his head again. “I…just don’t know…what to do anymore. I’m…It’s too much.” He said it softly, so that Sam wouldn’t hear him.
“You will, Son.” John said. “You need rest and time, but I have every confidence in you.”
Dean rolled his eyes. “Dad…there’s a baby seat in the Impala. A pink fucking baby seat.”
John chuckled. “Okay, so a lot of time.”
