Six Ways to Sunday, part 4, Leverage/Supernatural, R-ish

[phantisma]

Fandom: Supernatural/Leverage
Title: Six Ways to Sunday (Part 4...Part One is here, Part Two is here, Part Three)
Characters/Pairings: Dean Winchester/Eliot Spencer, Nate, Hardison, Castiel, demon!Meg, Bobby
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 2484
Summary: Dean locates Sam with the help of Eliot and his team, but Sam isn't quite the same, and when demons crash the reunion, he just might lose Sam all over again.

A/Ns & Warnings: Written for ladywinchester who won the privilege through donations to a local Humane Society. Violence.




Eliot could feel Nate staring at him. At the moment he was choosing to ignore him. He focused instead on watching Dean.

Dean was strung tight, and all the sex and booze in the world had done nothing to loosen him up. In fact, in some ways Eliot had to wonder if Dean wasn't more uptight after they'd spent the night trying to break all of the furniture in the cheap motel room.

His walk was stiff, and he was more jumpy than Eliot had ever seen.

"Are you sure?" Dean asked again, his voice in Eliot's ear. Dean's eyes glanced toward Eliot, then danced around the crowded bar.

"Hardison said this was the place." Eliot responded.

He could see the moment Dean saw the man they were looking for. Everything about him changed. Dean's weight shifted and his eyes darted around the room three times, each time coming back to the tall man who had just entered the bar. The man offered a strained smile as he made his way from the door and people called out hellos. He pulled his jacket off and made for the back.

Dean moved to follow and Eliot got up with his empty beer mug to move closer in case he was needed.



Dean followed his brother through a door into a small storage space with lockers on one wall, waiting for Sam to realize he was there. He cleared his throat and scuffed his feet when Sam didn't.

Sam finally looked up from putting his things in a locker. "Hey, employees only back here."

"Sam?" Dean frowned at him and stepped closer.

"Do I know you?"

Dean frowned harder, the words slapping against him as hard as a hand would. "Dean. Your brother."

Sam closed the locker and finished tying an apron around his waist. "I think maybe you've got the wrong guy. My name isn't Sam."

"Yes, it is." Dean responded, reaching out to stop Sam when he would have walked away. "You're Sam Winchester. I'm your brother Dean. I've been looking for you."

"Look, buddy, I'm sorry…I don't know you…and I have a shift to get to."

"Sam." Dean reached for him, but Sam brushed him off and headed into the kitchen.

"Dean." Eliot's voice in his ear pulled his attention. "We've got company."

He pushed his confusion and fear down and went back into the main room of the bar. Three big guys were blocking the doors and a young blonde woman with a familiar attitude and black eyes. "Great."

"What do you suggest?" Nate asked.

"Lay low, I'll try to draw them out." Dean grabbed a shot off a passing server's tray and downed it before pulling the squirt gun filled with holy water from his jacket. "Well, well, well…look what the cat dragged in." Dean said as he approached them.

The woman smiled. "See, I knew you missed me."

"Yeah, like crotch-itch." Dean replied.

“You’re playing hard to get. I like that.”

“Play time’s over, bitch.” Dean brought the squirt gun up, spraying holy water over the bunch of them. It wasn’t much and didn’t last long, but it got them to step back. “Eliot, get Sam and get the fuck out of here. I can’t hold them long, and they’ve got friends.”

Dean could see them, four more black eyed bastards pushing forward, even as Meg and her boys came back for more. He sensed Eliot moving more than he saw him, too busy jumping back and dodging the meaty hands aimed at him.

He was thrown into a crowd at a pool table and by the time he got to his feet he knew this was going to be a blood bath. The bikers he’d just been thrown into were cracking necks and knuckles and moving to engage the demons.

“Kill them all, boys.” Meg said. “Just bring me any pretty little Winchesters that you find.”



Eliot manhandled the younger Winchester out the back door into the alley and shoved him into a wall. “Stay.” Eliot growled at him, tapping his ear to make sure the comm. piece was still there. “Nate? Dean?”

There was a lot of noise, but neither of them responded.

“Hey-“ Sam pushed at him, but Eliot shoved him back into the wall.

He should go back in there, get Nate and Dean, but if he let Sam go, Sam could end up dead….and Dean would kill him.

“I need to get back to work.”

“If you go back in there the best you can hope for is to die fast. That ain’t just any brawl going on.”

“Eliot.” Dean’s voice filled his ear. “Did you get him?”

“Yeah, we’re in the alley.”

“Get him some place safe. This bitch won’t kill me until she has him.”

“What about Nate?”

“He ain’t with you?”

“No.” Eliot growled.

“I’ll find him. Get Sam out of here.”

Eliot didn’t like the idea of leaving Nate and Dean alone with a room full of demons, but if Sam was who they were really after, he’d gain more by getting Sam away from there than he would by barging in. “Fine. Come on.” He shoved Sam toward the street.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Sam yelled, pulling loose. “I don’t know you.”

“I wasn’t asking.” Eliot growled. “Hardison, you best be where I left you.”

Sam fought all the way out to the street. The van door opened and Eliot punched the kid hard enough to send him reeling into the van, following him and hauling him all the way in. “Move.”

Eliot pulled the door shut and the van lurched.

“Where’s Nate?” Hardison asked.

“Busy. Drive.” Eliot responded. He didn’t want to have to restrain the kid, but it was becoming clear that Sam wasn’t taking this lightly. Eliot clocked him hard across the jaw. Sam fell back unconscious and Eliot breathed out in relief.

He made quick work of tying Sam’s hands and gagging him, then climbed into the front seat next to Hardison. “Get us to the safe house. I need to make some phone calls.”




Dean huddled behind the upended pool table, listening to the carnage as Meg and her boys trashed the bar. He dared a peek toward where he had last seen Nate. He saw movement under the table and licked his lips. “If you can hear me Nate, just sit tight. I’m going to give you some cover. I want you to get to the back, there’s a storage room with a lock on the door.”

“A lock is going to stop them?”

“No, but it’ll buy you some time.” Dean reached for the bottle of rum that rolled his way. “And I’ll draw their attention once you’re out of the way. If you’re not in the room and moving there’s a chance they’ll forget about you.”

He shoved a rolled up napkin into the top of the bottle and pulled his lighter out of his pocket. It wouldn't burn long, but maybe would get him enough of a head start to not blow himself up.

Dean lit the napkin and tossed it, aiming to set the flame down where it would give Nate the most cover. He saw Nate make his move and burst from his cover to draw the attention of the demons in the room. "Come on you sons of bitches, come and get me."

He waited to see which of them would move first, and saw an opportunity to get out the front door. He dashed for it, knowing they would follow, and knowing that if he could just get to the Impala he would have a fighting chance, though against six demons, how much of a chance remained to be seen.

They gave chase and he barely made the Impala before the first of them came close. He emptied his gun into him to push him back, then struggled to get the trunk open, reaching in blindly and coming up with a sawed off shot gun loaded with salt rounds.

He fired that into the next one while he worked on getting to something stronger, finally finding a jug of holy water, he splashed it at them, but he was quickly losing ground. He needed help.

"Castiel! I hope your fucking done playing house with your family! I could use some help here!"

A hand closed on his throat and he was lifted off his feet, though he fought to keep a hold on the jug, tipping it to spill all over Meg's borrowed face as she stepped closer. She screamed and dropped him onto the trunk, slamming it closed as his back cracked against it.

She raged at him, screaming and kicking him, until he managed to roll under the car. It wouldn't keep him long, just until she calmed down enough to remember she didn't need to touch him physically to pull him out.

His left shoulder was dislocated, he was fairly sure. At least one rib was cracked and he could taste blood on his tongue. Hands grabbed at him and he did his best to keep from being pulled out, then suddenly there were two loud shots and Latin through a loudspeaker.

Bodies hit the ground beside the car, then footsteps crunched against gravel.

A familiar face looked at him from the driver's side door. "You can come out now, numbnuts."

"Bobby?" Dean scrambled out and climbed to his feet, wincing as pain lanced through his back.

"You all right?"

Dean waved him off, looking around at the dead bodies previously inhabited by demons. "What…how…what?"

Bobby shook his head. "Got a call there was a mess of demons hunting up this way, I was in the neighborhood."

Dean spit blood onto the ground and wiped his mouth.

"In the neighborhood. In Chicago."

"All right, so I was at home researching a hunt and then I was here with a shotgun and a megaphone and I saw the Impala and the bastards trying to get at you, so I started an exorcism."

Dean frowned at him, rubbing at the knot that was forming on the back of his head. "Cas?"

"Hell if I know. Can we get out of here though, before they decide to come back with friends?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just…fuck. Nate."

"What's a Nate?" Bobby asked as Dean darted back into the bar. He dodged dead bodies and broken furniture and sighed in relief when the storage room door was still shut. "Nate, you okay?"

"Dean?" The door cracked open and Nate squinted at him. "How do I know you're not one of them?"

"Because if I were I'd be killing you not asking if you're still breathing." Dean responded. "Come on, we have got to go."

He tugged on Nate until he was moving. "Try not to step in anything." Nate stuttered to a stop in the middle of the room.

"My god."

"He won't help, come on." Bobby was leaning on the Impala, watching the road. "Bobby, Nate. Nate, Bobby. Everyone in the car. Nate, get a hold of Eliot, find out where they went."

"I set up a safe house." Nate responded. "Few years back. He had the keys."

Dean nodded and got behind the wheel. He sucked in air as his ribs reminded him of their injury and he had to pull the door closed awkwardly with his right hand. The engine came to life though and for a moment, with his eyes closed, everything was okay. They had Sam. They could figure out what came next.

He got them backed out and onto the street. Nate fed him an address and vague directions and he drove. As long as he focused on that, he could get through this.



Eliot heard the Impala coming and hung up on the person he was talking too. The car parked and Nate was the first one out, followed by some older man Eliot didn't know. When Dean finally emerged, he looked like he'd gotten the shit kicked out of him.

He moved slowly behind the others and up the stairs. Eliot guessed the left shoulder was out and judging from the way Dean was favoring his side, there were ribs broken as well.

Dean listed a little to the side as he got in the door and Eliot caught him and drew him in, pulling the door shut.

"You gonna tell me what's going on here?" the older man asked.

Dean held up a hand. "Long story short, Sam's alive. We found him just before those demons jumped us. Eliot got him out of there."

"Sam?"

Dean nodded, leaning a little on Eliot and licking his lips. "Only, he doesn't know who he is, and we don't know how he got out and Castiel seems to be elsewhere, again."

"And you need me to put that shoulder back in and tape up those ribs." Eliot interrupted. "Sam is sedated and secured. Nate can fill in your friend."

He thought Dean might argue, but then he looked at Eliot and nodded slowly. "Yeah, okay. Bobby, secure the place would ya?"

Dean let Eliot sling an arm around his back and support him into the downstairs bedroom. "Hunter?" Eliot asked as he closed the door.

Dean nodded and turned to face Eliot, reaching for his waist with his right hand while he squared his body and set his feet to hold him. Eliot put his hands on Dean's shoulder, feeling the joint and making adjustments to how he was holding it before he breathed, "One, two…" and where three should have been, Eliot shoved instead, feeling the joint pop back into place.

Dean yelled and his knees buckled, but he didn't go down, just held onto Eliot until he could pull himself fully upright again. Eliot eased Dean's shirt up and off gently, whistling at the purple and blue and black on Dean's chest. "You do know how to pick a fight."

"You should have seen the other guys." Dean deadpanned. He moved to sit on the bed while Eliot opened the first aid kit he had brought in from the van earlier, fully suspecting he would need it.

"I bet." Eliot set the kit down beside Dean and moved his fingers over the angry skin. "This one's broken, but it feels like it hasn't moved. The other two are probably cracked."

"Gonna hurt tomorrow." Dean yawned.

"How about your head?" Eliot asked.

"It's hard. I'll live. Just tape me up and let me get some shuteye. Need to figure out how to deal with Sam in the morning."

They were quiet while Eliot taped him up and when he was done, Dean kicked off his boots and laid back on the bed. "Wake me up in a few hours?"

"I will." Eliot watched his eyes close and sighed. At the very least, life with Dean Winchester was proving to be anything but boring.