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phantismaFandom: Supernatural
Title: My Brother's Keeper, Part Twenty(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, Part Ten Here, Part Eleven Here, Part Twelve Here, Part Thirteen Here, Part Fourteen Here, Part Fifteen Here, Part Sixteen Here, Part Seventeen Here, Part Eighteen Here, Part Nineteen Here)
Characters/Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Table: #1
Prompt: 096 Writer's choice
Word Count: 4383
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, including memories of under-age rape. Here it is...an ending...of sorts. I'm sure there will be more...fun little drabbles and whatnots in this !verse...but there's a climax and sex and stuff...have fun...
This is my thirty-ninth ficlet for my Supernatural claim on![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
100_situations. Clicky for table
All around them the trees creaked, bending over themselves in the sudden wind. John had to fight to keep his feet as the demons crept closer to the house and Missouri chanted the words. Inside the house, he could see flickering lights and he could hear screaming.
He took two steps closer to the house, torn between trying to help Dean and Dana, and staying with Missouri, whose job was to hold it all together, forming a bridge between Dana and Sam.
The dark, swirling mass of black descended toward them. Dean was dimly aware that Dana wasn’t crying anymore. He looked at Sam, his hand still firmly connected to Dana’s chest, his eyes closed and his face a mask of concentration. The howling of the wind through the house was deafening.
Sam’s eyes opened, swirling green and black and gold as he stared down at Dean, at Dana. Dean’s eyes moved to Dana’s face, to her eyes, wide and filled with green and white. Her tiny body was hot in his hands and Sam’s hand against her body seemed so huge. Light poured from between them, from under Sam’s hand, engulfed his hand and up his arm.
Dean felt the weight lifting, Dana’s body rising from his arms. He wanted to scream, but the compulsion held him silent. He could only watch helplessly as the light engulfed her, engulfed Sam and the inky blackness swooped down upon them.
John shot with deadly aim as they came closer. Some of them got back up and continued their movement, some toward him and Missouri, some toward the house. He dropped the shotgun and pulled two hand guns from his belt.
Behind him, Missouri still chanted inside her circle, her eyes closed. John spared a glance toward the house as light filled the downstairs windows. If he understood Sam’s plan, and trusted him, this was a good sign. If it worked, they’d still have to deal with all of these demons and creatures when it was over. Unless he dealt with them now.
Sam watched Dean slump to the ground, but couldn’t spare the effort to ensure he was okay. He sheathed the blade and turned to cradle Dana in his arms, feeling her nearly a part of him, feeling the strength of Missouri’s touch, holding this bridge between them. “Okay, baby girl, let’s clean up this mess.”
Dana’s hands clapped together and Sam saw light dance around them. “Show off,” he murmured before turning his attention to the demon. The black had coalesced into something resembling human form without features.
“You think you can keep her from me, boy?”
It’s voice grated, almost a physical blow and Sam stepped back a pace. “You want her?” He held her up, facing the black figure. “Go for it.”
“I will feast on the flesh from your bones, boy.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah…I hear you.” The black form surged forward, and the air filled with squealing as it contacted Dana’s skin. “What’s the matter? Afraid of a little baby?”
“What have you done?” The demon swirled back, retaking shape.
Sam chuckled. “Contaminated the blood.” He held up his bloody hand, the sigil carved into it glowing in the light. “Mine, my father’s…Winchester blood. Family blood.” He bounced Dana a little in his arms. “You only made her stronger.” His eyes burned as he looked from Dana to the demon. “I made her an avatar.”
It wasn’t the entire truth, but at this point it didn’t matter so much. Sam waited while it paced around them. “This is not possible.” It hissed and Sam smiled.
“No? Want to try again?”
It charged at them and Sam spun around, clinging tightly to Dana as he reached out with his bloody hand to connect with the black mass. A trail of red marked it as it pushed into them and Sam backed away again. The squealing was louder this time and Sam grinned. “Still think it isn’t possible?”
Dean groaned and Sam glanced his way. “Not now Dean.” Sam murmured.
The demon swirled around them, still screaming, then slowly settled into form again beside Dean. “So, you have kept the child, perhaps I will take your boy.” It ran a hand down Dean’s arm and Sam jumped toward them.
“Don’t think I won’t still send you to hell.”
It shook its head. “And kill little lover boy too? I don’t think so. Give me the child.”
“Missouri?”
“He’s weakening. I don’t know how much longer I can hold them.”
“I’m going in there.”
“No! John!”
But John was already at the door, blowing the knob off and barging his way inside.
Dean was vaguely aware of his father’s voice over the roaring din in his head. Fiery fingers trailed over the icy cold of his skin.
“Dean!” Sam. Sam’s voice. “Dean, look at me.” Commanding, demanding. Dean looked up and toward the sound. “Good. Look at me, see only me.”
Dean could feel something touching him, those same fiery fingers. “Come to me Dean.”
His body jerked forward, away from those fingers, across the floor. Then stopped. Tendrils of black smoke moved over him, surrounding him.
“Look at me Dean!” There was something frantic in his voice and Dean wasn’t even aware he had looked away, but his eyes came back to Sam’s. Luminescent green that seemed to crackle with power. “Come to me.” Dean felt himself fly across the floor, skidding to a stop at Sam’s feet. Sam’s hand closed over Dean’s and warmth began to flood into him. Sam grinned at him. “Can you sit up?”
Dean nodded and let Sam help him. “Hold her, and keep a hand on me.” Sam said, shifting Dana into Dean’s arms. Everything looked different, faded, odd. Dana’s body was hot to the touch and her eyes burned with light. Sam pulled the knife from his boot. “Time to end this.”
John let the wind whip around him, pulling him closer to the circle. Inside a woman’s body lay unconscious on the floor, three Harriers were moving to back up the black smoky figure, and Sam stood his ground, Dean and Dana at his feet. He felt helpless. He felt alone. He watched as the demons advanced, unable to do more.
“Do you think a knife is going to do any good against me, boy?”
Sam smiled. “Why don’t you come and find out.”
It was circling them again, the Harriers moving to back it up. “A blade is only good on corporeal forms.”
Sam shrugged a little. “Then come a little closer.”
It surged forward then and Sam struck forward with the knife and with every once of power he had gathered from himself and Dana. White lightening shot out from the blade as it connected with the darkness and howling filled the air. The demon lost form, reverting back to a cloud of black smoke as the lightening crackled through it and burned at its edges. Sam dropped to the ground, the knife clattering against the floor. With a loud clap of thunder, the protective circle collapsed and the demon fell to the floor, in a pile of black ash.
Sam groaned and rolled to his side, already looking for Dean. He felt the first claws in his thigh and screamed, turning to find the largest of the three Harriers pulling him. A shot rang out and the Harrier dropped. He heard another shot and saw a second one fall. The third crashed through the window, disappearing into the fading night.
“Dean?” John knelt beside Dean, whose eyes were still on Sam.
“You are no longer bound. I release you.” Sam whispered and Dean’ blinked several times before looking up at his father, then down at Dana.
“You okay, Dad?” Dean asked as John blinked back tears.
John caressed Dana’s head with one hand and nodded. “Yeah…Dean. I’m good.”
Dean nodded, looked to Sam. “You?”
“Yeah, I’m good.” Sam said, pulling the Harrier’s claw out of his leg.
“Is it over?” Dean asked.
“It’s over for now.”
The female voice stopped all of them, though Dean was the first to speak. “Mom?”
“I told you I couldn’t protect you.”
Dean let John help him to his feet. “We’re okay.”
Her smile was light, sad. “I know.”
Sam limped closer, his face white, his eyes wide, his mouth gaping open. “Mom? This is...this…”
She turned to look at him, her hand rising between them as if to stroke his face. “Sam. My beautiful Sam.” She came even closer, whispering to him before moving on to Dana and Dean. She brushed ghostly lips over Dana’s head. “Keep her close, Dean. She will bring you such joy.”
John was crying opening as the went to him and he had trouble looking her in the face. “You are a good man, John, and a good father.”
“Mary, I—“
“Shh…John. Don’t. It’s time.”
Dean put Dana in Sam’s hands and moved closer to his father. “What? No. No. Not now. We just…we only…”
She smiled for Dean. “I only stayed to see my boys together again…and here you are.”
Her imaged hitched and she moved away, flames already licking at the edges. “I will always love you. All of you.”
She was gone and Dean collapsed. Sirens could be heard in the distance. “We should get out of here.” John said softly, reaching for Dean.
“No.” Dean protested weakly.
“Dean, he’s right. We don’t want to be here when the police arrive.”
Missouri was picking herself up off the ground a little shakily as they emerged, Dean supported by John. All around them lay dead corpses of creatures local law would have difficulty identifying. Without a word, John settled Dean into the truck and they cleaned up the evidence of their night’s work before loading into the two vehicles.
“You should really go to the hospital.” Sam said for the fourth or fifth time while he bounced Dana on his knee.
Dean made a face and took another swig off the bottle in his hand, but shook his head. “Dad does better work anyway.”
“Hold still.” John growled. His hands had stopped shaking, but the gashes were pretty deep and he tended to think Sam was right.
“Mind explaining all that to me?” Dean asked after another sip.
Sam ducked his head to kiss Dana’s forehead. “Your daughter and I kicked some demon behind.”
“Dana?”
Sam sighed and looked up just as Missouri rejoined them, and ice pack in one hand and a second bottle in the other. “Sam…remembered a really old ritual, one that takes someone pure of soul and imbues them with the powers of a deva. For the record, I didn’t like it.” Missouri said, settling into a chair.
“If done properly, the ritual creates an avatar, a receptacle for a deva…much the same as the baptism in Seer’s blood and mother’s blood creates a vessel for a demon.”
“So rather than letting her be possessed by one force, you offered her to another?”
Sam smiled. “No, I just wanted the demon to think I had.” He chuckled and Missouri gave him a very dirty look. “Sorry. I couldn’t tell you what I had planned.”
“Sam.” Dean’s voice was angry.
“Okay, okay.” Sam watched as John stitched a little more. “I haven’t been completely honest with you. The dreams aren’t the only gift to manifest before now. Sometimes, I can make something other people believe so real, that it becomes real. It has to be something that absolutely fear or love, has to have really strong emotion. An avatar is one of the few things that could easily defeat that level of demon.”
“So you bet their lives on a gift you can sometimes use?” John asked, his hand pausing mid-stitch.
Sam shrugged. “It worked.”
“I’m still not getting it. What was the light show and all that?”
“Dana.” Sam smiled as she put her hands on both sides of his face and she pushed up to standing to lean in with an open mouth to kiss his nose.
“What?” John and Dean asked at the same time. Sam turned her to look at them.
“I was just a conduit. That all came from her.”
“I can vouch for that.” Missouri said, holding the ice pack on her head. “Speaking as the person who built that conduit.”
“My daughter killed the demon?”
“With a little help from her uncle Sam, right baby girl?” Sam settled her back onto his lap, giving her the silly dog with the plastic face. “The power was mostly hers, I just gave it somewhere to go. It wanted her for a reason, guys.”
John finished stitching up Dean’s back in silence. “What about the blood, Sam?” Dean asked after a long quiet. “You made sure you bled into that cup. That blood was used on her forehead. Your hand, and the sigil, and the blood….what was that?”
Sam looked down at his bandaged hand. “In order to ready the vessel, the blood of the mother and a related Seer are used to baptize an infant Seer. The blood of the father and the infant Seer are then required to open the vessel, to make her pliable enough for the demon to enter. Infants, as a general rule, have a natural protection. Demons can take kids, but usually not until they’re at least 5…not until they understand right and wrong, not before they can consciously choose to do the wrong.”
“How does you adding more blood change it?”
Sam looked up to John. “Blood is one of the most protective things on the planet. Family blood especially. That was your father’s blood and my blood. It changed everything, and rather than opening her up, it locked the doors and threw the key into a deep pit.”
John held up his own bandaged hand as Dean looked. Dean took another swig from the bottle. “I’m tired,” he announced suddenly, his words slurring a little.
“I haven’t finished patching you up.” John said, one hand on his shoulder keeping Dean in his chair.
“I’m fine. Want sleep.”
“Yeah, fine. Whatever. Sam, your turn then, let’s have a look at that calf.”
Sam complied, settling Dana down on a blanket on the floor before laying beside her and offering up his lower leg for inspection. He pillowed his head on his arms and watched Dana chew on her dog, scarcely wincing when John pinched the wound closed. “You should drink some whiskey to dull the pain.” John said.
Dean roused himself from the chair, setting the bottle down by Sam’s head before stumbling his way up the stairs. “I’m good. Go ahead.” Sam said, closing his eyes.
“It’s going to hurt.”
Sam only nodded. “I know.”
Dana moved forward, closer to Sam’s face as John’s fingers nimbly pushed the needle through his skin. She mimicked his position, tiny hands under her head and smiled at him. Sam found himself smiling back. Her eyes twinkled and for a moment he could see himself in them. There was something so pure in her face when she looked at him, and it took him a long time staring at her to understand what it was.
When he did, he flushed, his whole body warm and his heart pattering a little faster. He reached out with one finger to brush her face as her eyes drifted shut sleepily. “Yeah, baby…I love you too,” he whispered.
She sighed a little and then her eyes were closed and John was patting his thigh. “All done.”
Sam nodded. He sat up, surprised to find that Missouri had left the room. John sat in the chair and reached for the bottle she had left behind. Sam wet his lips and watched, the slump in the chair, the tired that hung in the bags under his eyes. Now probably wasn’t the time for this conversation…but Sam wasn’t sure he’d ever have the nerve again.
“I have no right to ask for anything at this point,” he started. “I know I’ve done some terrible things, and I’ve lied to you and to Dean. But…I…” He looked down at his leg, turning it to see the neat, even stitches. “I wanted you to know…how much I…” He exhaled and scolded himself. This shouldn’t be so hard.
“This is so retarded,” he muttered. “I’ve hated you for a really long time…ever since I can remember. I realize now that all the reasons were lies. I believed them, when they told me…I believed them.” He looked up at John with hope in his eyes. “I wanted to—can you…forgive me?”
John’s eyes narrowed and he took a long drink from the bottle before leaning forward. “Before I answer you, I have a few things I want to say.”
Sam swallowed and nodded. “Okay.”
“I want you to know I heard you…there, when it was over. I heard you.”
Sam felt tears forming and lowered his eyes. “Oh?” He knew without asking what the older man meant. “I…could have done it any time…I didn’t want to let him go.”
John nodded and sat back in his chair. “But you did.”
Sam felt the tears on his cheek and waited. “What you have done in the years before you met Dean, before you knew the truth…none of that is your fault. What you will bear the blame for are the things you’ve done since you’ve known. We all make choices, Sam. Everyday. Today you made good choices.”
Sam drew in a shuddering breath. “Thank you, sir.”
John smiled. “Whatever came before, Sam…all of that…I forgave you the first time I saw you. The rest…that may take a while.”
“Fair enough.” Sam climbed to his feet. “Thank you.”
“Go on, get some sleep. I’ll put Dana to bed.”
Sam nodded and made for the stairs. “Oh, and Sam?” He turned with one foot on the step. “I think it would be okay if you wanted to call me Dad.” Sam smiled and nodded again. Then made his way up the stairs.
He paused at Dean’s door, easing it open to check on him. Dean was asleep on his side, his torn up back open to the air. Sam shook his head, knowing his brother had gotten off light. The damage, as Harrier attacks went, was usually much more severe.
That made him stop, looking at his own scars, suddenly remembering that with the compulsory hex removed, Dean had been seeing Sam’s scars for several hours. That, combined with the anger in his voice…Sam licked his lips. Anger he understood, he could cope with anger. Revulsion though…the scars would naturally lead to questions, to knowing what had been done to him…that was something Sam wasn’t ready for.
With a sigh, Sam slipped from the room and across the hall. He took a moment to pull the blinds on the bright morning sunshine before stripping and slipping into bed. It didn’t take long for the exhaustion of his body to trump his racing mind and drag him into sleep.
The room was dark when he woke, light touches on his arms, the weight of another body on the bed. He opened his eyes slowly, finding Dean there with him. “Dean?”
It was apparent as Sam pulled himself to a seat against the headboard that Dean had been crying. “I had a dream.” Dean said, reaching for him. “You died. I lost you.”
“I’m right here Dean. I’m fine.”
“Want you.”
Dean leaned in to kiss him and Sam stopped him. “What?” Dean looked confused. “I thought you wanted this.”
“And you never did. Not once you knew who I was.” Sam pulled away and climbed out of bed, suddenly conscious of the fact that he was naked. He paced away.
“Not true.” Dean was on his feet and following him. “Sam. Listen.”
Sam shook his head. “Dean, I lied to you. I used that hex to make you want me. It wasn’t real.”
“I know about hexes too Sam.” Dean insisted. “You can’t work with emotion that isn’t there to begin with.”
Sam ducked past him and stalked over to the light switch. “You don’t know what you’re asking for, Dean. I’m not the person you think I am.” He turned the lights on and Dean squinted a little in the sudden wash of light. “Take a good look. Look at this and tell me you want me.”
Sam dropped his gaze. “My whole life has been a lie. Its time to face the truth.”
Dean was suddenly in front of him, pressing him against the wall, his mouth slanting over Sam’s, his tongue dipping lightly into Sam’s mouth. His hands cupped Sam’s face as they kissed, then slowly, his left had traced the first line of scarring that stretched from just to the right of Sam’s nose off toward his ear. As his hand reached Sam’s neck, he broke the kiss, his lips trailing after his hand.
Dean’s tongue traced the patterns of the marks, up behind Sam’s ear, and down over the corded muscle of his neck. Sam moaned and pushed at him weakly with the other hand. Dean moved back to his mouth, his kiss soft. Sam squirmed under him, nervous and uncertain. “Let me show you truth.” Dean whispered. Sam shuddered and Dean turned his mouth back to Sam’s shoulder.
He pressed open mouth kisses along the thick marks of claws, his tongue burning a trail down his arm, then up again to find a new trail down over Sam’s chest. The burn pattern swirled under his nipple and Dean followed, kissing around it before sucking the hard nub into his mouth.
Sam stopped wiggling, stopped moving. His breathing was shallow and his cock, Dean couldn’t help but notice, was hard. Dean kissed his way back up Sam’s body, his hands sliding over the bumpy, scarred skin and the smooth normal skin together. “Want you.” Dean’s kiss was a little more intense, his tongue dipping deeper, his lips claiming Sam’s for his own. “Want all of you.” He nipped lightly at his lower lip before delving back into the hot, moist cavern of his mouth. “Want all of you, Sammy.”
Sam moaned into his mouth, then pushed them off the wall, spinning them until they were moving toward the bed. “Dean…Dean…” Sam’s hands pushed at Dean’s boxers, even as he was falling down onto the bed.
“It’s okay Sam.” Dean stepped out of the boxers and followed, his hands moving over the bumpy skin, keeping himself connected. He slipped one hand over Sam’s foot, caressing the calloused arch and up over the ankle. He worked his way with soft hands and tender lips and hot tongue up every damaged inch of skin until he reached Sam’s mouth. “You taste so good Sammy…” He pulled back when he felt wetness, surprised to find Sam crying. “Is this okay?”
Sam nodded slowly then pulled Dean closer, kissing deeply and then looking into his eyes. “Go slow.”
Dean nodded and kissed him again, taking his time, his hands moving down to cup Sam’s cock. Sam surged under him, his cock gliding into Dean’s hand. Dean let his lips wander again, away from Sam’s lips and down…crisscrossing from his right side to his left, stroking as much skin as he could with lips and tongue. When he reached Sam’s cock it was already leaking pre-cum. Dean licked it, looking up at Sam and smiling when Sam lurched. “Easy, Sammy….I got you…”
Dean’s open mouth descended, closing over the tip, his tongue working that little knot of nerves under the head before swallowing him down and sucking all the way back up. “God, Sam…”
Dean moved so that he could cradle Sam’s balls with one hand before turning his attention to long licks up the side of his cock. Sam’s whimpers made him look up, concerned, but the combination of tears and open-mouthed lust made Dean shiver. His hand cupping Sam’s balls moved, one finger sliding further down, sliding into the crease of Sam’s ass.
Sam stiffened, his legs tensing. Dean blew hot air onto this dick and moved the hand back. “Slow, Sam. Easy and slow,” he murmured. He went back to gently licking at Sam’s cock.
“Dean…” Sam’s voice was small, filled with need and Dean nodded before swallowing his full length. “Fuck, Dean.” He set a swift rhythm, bobbing his head as Sam’s hips started to thrust upward to meet him. He came in a rush, his body arching upward as Dean swallowed, and descending slowly back to the bed.
Sam was panting, chest heaving, tears painting his face. Dean slid up to lay beside him, his own cock hot and hard. He kissed at the tears on Sam’s face. “It’s okay, Sam. It’s okay.”
Sam shivered. “I want to…I do…I just…I can’t…”
“Shh…its okay.” Dean gathered him closer. “I understand.”
“Can’t.” Sam cried harder, sobs wracking his body as Dean held him. As they passed, Dean held his chin.
“Sammy, look at me.”
Sam’s eyes met his, green to green and intense with tears. “I understand. I know.” Dean’s eyes roamed over his face, his hand tracing the lines of scars. “Do you understand me?”
Sam saw the reflection of a shared horror in Dean’s eyes and nodded. “Good.” Dean shifted to make his back more comfortable.
They lay comfortable and silent as the darkness in the room deepened. It was a while before Sam stirred, turning to face Dean. “I can’t promise anything,” he whispered. “I can’t promise I can change who I am.”
“You already have.” Dean whispered back.
“I don’t know what happens next.”
Dean chuckled. “Me either. We’ve been at this so long…”
“Would it be…okay…if I stayed a while?”
“Where else would you go?” Dean rubbed his hand over Sam’s arm. “You’re my brother, Sammy, and I’m going to take care of you from now on.”
Sam laughed a little, his smile bright. “And who’s going to take care of you?”
Dean smiled back. “I guess that’s your job, being the brother and all.”
Sam snuggled in under Dean’s chin, holding Dean’s hand in his. “I just wonder which one of us is the kept one,” he said, with a smile in his voice.
“Go to sleep Sammy.”
Title: My Brother's Keeper, Part Twenty(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, Part Ten Here, Part Eleven Here, Part Twelve Here, Part Thirteen Here, Part Fourteen Here, Part Fifteen Here, Part Sixteen Here, Part Seventeen Here, Part Eighteen Here, Part Nineteen Here)
Characters/Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Table: #1
Prompt: 096 Writer's choice
Word Count: 4383
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, including memories of under-age rape. Here it is...an ending...of sorts. I'm sure there will be more...fun little drabbles and whatnots in this !verse...but there's a climax and sex and stuff...have fun...
This is my thirty-ninth ficlet for my Supernatural claim on
100_situations. Clicky for tableAll around them the trees creaked, bending over themselves in the sudden wind. John had to fight to keep his feet as the demons crept closer to the house and Missouri chanted the words. Inside the house, he could see flickering lights and he could hear screaming.
He took two steps closer to the house, torn between trying to help Dean and Dana, and staying with Missouri, whose job was to hold it all together, forming a bridge between Dana and Sam.
The dark, swirling mass of black descended toward them. Dean was dimly aware that Dana wasn’t crying anymore. He looked at Sam, his hand still firmly connected to Dana’s chest, his eyes closed and his face a mask of concentration. The howling of the wind through the house was deafening.
Sam’s eyes opened, swirling green and black and gold as he stared down at Dean, at Dana. Dean’s eyes moved to Dana’s face, to her eyes, wide and filled with green and white. Her tiny body was hot in his hands and Sam’s hand against her body seemed so huge. Light poured from between them, from under Sam’s hand, engulfed his hand and up his arm.
Dean felt the weight lifting, Dana’s body rising from his arms. He wanted to scream, but the compulsion held him silent. He could only watch helplessly as the light engulfed her, engulfed Sam and the inky blackness swooped down upon them.
John shot with deadly aim as they came closer. Some of them got back up and continued their movement, some toward him and Missouri, some toward the house. He dropped the shotgun and pulled two hand guns from his belt.
Behind him, Missouri still chanted inside her circle, her eyes closed. John spared a glance toward the house as light filled the downstairs windows. If he understood Sam’s plan, and trusted him, this was a good sign. If it worked, they’d still have to deal with all of these demons and creatures when it was over. Unless he dealt with them now.
Sam watched Dean slump to the ground, but couldn’t spare the effort to ensure he was okay. He sheathed the blade and turned to cradle Dana in his arms, feeling her nearly a part of him, feeling the strength of Missouri’s touch, holding this bridge between them. “Okay, baby girl, let’s clean up this mess.”
Dana’s hands clapped together and Sam saw light dance around them. “Show off,” he murmured before turning his attention to the demon. The black had coalesced into something resembling human form without features.
“You think you can keep her from me, boy?”
It’s voice grated, almost a physical blow and Sam stepped back a pace. “You want her?” He held her up, facing the black figure. “Go for it.”
“I will feast on the flesh from your bones, boy.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah…I hear you.” The black form surged forward, and the air filled with squealing as it contacted Dana’s skin. “What’s the matter? Afraid of a little baby?”
“What have you done?” The demon swirled back, retaking shape.
Sam chuckled. “Contaminated the blood.” He held up his bloody hand, the sigil carved into it glowing in the light. “Mine, my father’s…Winchester blood. Family blood.” He bounced Dana a little in his arms. “You only made her stronger.” His eyes burned as he looked from Dana to the demon. “I made her an avatar.”
It wasn’t the entire truth, but at this point it didn’t matter so much. Sam waited while it paced around them. “This is not possible.” It hissed and Sam smiled.
“No? Want to try again?”
It charged at them and Sam spun around, clinging tightly to Dana as he reached out with his bloody hand to connect with the black mass. A trail of red marked it as it pushed into them and Sam backed away again. The squealing was louder this time and Sam grinned. “Still think it isn’t possible?”
Dean groaned and Sam glanced his way. “Not now Dean.” Sam murmured.
The demon swirled around them, still screaming, then slowly settled into form again beside Dean. “So, you have kept the child, perhaps I will take your boy.” It ran a hand down Dean’s arm and Sam jumped toward them.
“Don’t think I won’t still send you to hell.”
It shook its head. “And kill little lover boy too? I don’t think so. Give me the child.”
“Missouri?”
“He’s weakening. I don’t know how much longer I can hold them.”
“I’m going in there.”
“No! John!”
But John was already at the door, blowing the knob off and barging his way inside.
Dean was vaguely aware of his father’s voice over the roaring din in his head. Fiery fingers trailed over the icy cold of his skin.
“Dean!” Sam. Sam’s voice. “Dean, look at me.” Commanding, demanding. Dean looked up and toward the sound. “Good. Look at me, see only me.”
Dean could feel something touching him, those same fiery fingers. “Come to me Dean.”
His body jerked forward, away from those fingers, across the floor. Then stopped. Tendrils of black smoke moved over him, surrounding him.
“Look at me Dean!” There was something frantic in his voice and Dean wasn’t even aware he had looked away, but his eyes came back to Sam’s. Luminescent green that seemed to crackle with power. “Come to me.” Dean felt himself fly across the floor, skidding to a stop at Sam’s feet. Sam’s hand closed over Dean’s and warmth began to flood into him. Sam grinned at him. “Can you sit up?”
Dean nodded and let Sam help him. “Hold her, and keep a hand on me.” Sam said, shifting Dana into Dean’s arms. Everything looked different, faded, odd. Dana’s body was hot to the touch and her eyes burned with light. Sam pulled the knife from his boot. “Time to end this.”
John let the wind whip around him, pulling him closer to the circle. Inside a woman’s body lay unconscious on the floor, three Harriers were moving to back up the black smoky figure, and Sam stood his ground, Dean and Dana at his feet. He felt helpless. He felt alone. He watched as the demons advanced, unable to do more.
“Do you think a knife is going to do any good against me, boy?”
Sam smiled. “Why don’t you come and find out.”
It was circling them again, the Harriers moving to back it up. “A blade is only good on corporeal forms.”
Sam shrugged a little. “Then come a little closer.”
It surged forward then and Sam struck forward with the knife and with every once of power he had gathered from himself and Dana. White lightening shot out from the blade as it connected with the darkness and howling filled the air. The demon lost form, reverting back to a cloud of black smoke as the lightening crackled through it and burned at its edges. Sam dropped to the ground, the knife clattering against the floor. With a loud clap of thunder, the protective circle collapsed and the demon fell to the floor, in a pile of black ash.
Sam groaned and rolled to his side, already looking for Dean. He felt the first claws in his thigh and screamed, turning to find the largest of the three Harriers pulling him. A shot rang out and the Harrier dropped. He heard another shot and saw a second one fall. The third crashed through the window, disappearing into the fading night.
“Dean?” John knelt beside Dean, whose eyes were still on Sam.
“You are no longer bound. I release you.” Sam whispered and Dean’ blinked several times before looking up at his father, then down at Dana.
“You okay, Dad?” Dean asked as John blinked back tears.
John caressed Dana’s head with one hand and nodded. “Yeah…Dean. I’m good.”
Dean nodded, looked to Sam. “You?”
“Yeah, I’m good.” Sam said, pulling the Harrier’s claw out of his leg.
“Is it over?” Dean asked.
“It’s over for now.”
The female voice stopped all of them, though Dean was the first to speak. “Mom?”
“I told you I couldn’t protect you.”
Dean let John help him to his feet. “We’re okay.”
Her smile was light, sad. “I know.”
Sam limped closer, his face white, his eyes wide, his mouth gaping open. “Mom? This is...this…”
She turned to look at him, her hand rising between them as if to stroke his face. “Sam. My beautiful Sam.” She came even closer, whispering to him before moving on to Dana and Dean. She brushed ghostly lips over Dana’s head. “Keep her close, Dean. She will bring you such joy.”
John was crying opening as the went to him and he had trouble looking her in the face. “You are a good man, John, and a good father.”
“Mary, I—“
“Shh…John. Don’t. It’s time.”
Dean put Dana in Sam’s hands and moved closer to his father. “What? No. No. Not now. We just…we only…”
She smiled for Dean. “I only stayed to see my boys together again…and here you are.”
Her imaged hitched and she moved away, flames already licking at the edges. “I will always love you. All of you.”
She was gone and Dean collapsed. Sirens could be heard in the distance. “We should get out of here.” John said softly, reaching for Dean.
“No.” Dean protested weakly.
“Dean, he’s right. We don’t want to be here when the police arrive.”
Missouri was picking herself up off the ground a little shakily as they emerged, Dean supported by John. All around them lay dead corpses of creatures local law would have difficulty identifying. Without a word, John settled Dean into the truck and they cleaned up the evidence of their night’s work before loading into the two vehicles.
“You should really go to the hospital.” Sam said for the fourth or fifth time while he bounced Dana on his knee.
Dean made a face and took another swig off the bottle in his hand, but shook his head. “Dad does better work anyway.”
“Hold still.” John growled. His hands had stopped shaking, but the gashes were pretty deep and he tended to think Sam was right.
“Mind explaining all that to me?” Dean asked after another sip.
Sam ducked his head to kiss Dana’s forehead. “Your daughter and I kicked some demon behind.”
“Dana?”
Sam sighed and looked up just as Missouri rejoined them, and ice pack in one hand and a second bottle in the other. “Sam…remembered a really old ritual, one that takes someone pure of soul and imbues them with the powers of a deva. For the record, I didn’t like it.” Missouri said, settling into a chair.
“If done properly, the ritual creates an avatar, a receptacle for a deva…much the same as the baptism in Seer’s blood and mother’s blood creates a vessel for a demon.”
“So rather than letting her be possessed by one force, you offered her to another?”
Sam smiled. “No, I just wanted the demon to think I had.” He chuckled and Missouri gave him a very dirty look. “Sorry. I couldn’t tell you what I had planned.”
“Sam.” Dean’s voice was angry.
“Okay, okay.” Sam watched as John stitched a little more. “I haven’t been completely honest with you. The dreams aren’t the only gift to manifest before now. Sometimes, I can make something other people believe so real, that it becomes real. It has to be something that absolutely fear or love, has to have really strong emotion. An avatar is one of the few things that could easily defeat that level of demon.”
“So you bet their lives on a gift you can sometimes use?” John asked, his hand pausing mid-stitch.
Sam shrugged. “It worked.”
“I’m still not getting it. What was the light show and all that?”
“Dana.” Sam smiled as she put her hands on both sides of his face and she pushed up to standing to lean in with an open mouth to kiss his nose.
“What?” John and Dean asked at the same time. Sam turned her to look at them.
“I was just a conduit. That all came from her.”
“I can vouch for that.” Missouri said, holding the ice pack on her head. “Speaking as the person who built that conduit.”
“My daughter killed the demon?”
“With a little help from her uncle Sam, right baby girl?” Sam settled her back onto his lap, giving her the silly dog with the plastic face. “The power was mostly hers, I just gave it somewhere to go. It wanted her for a reason, guys.”
John finished stitching up Dean’s back in silence. “What about the blood, Sam?” Dean asked after a long quiet. “You made sure you bled into that cup. That blood was used on her forehead. Your hand, and the sigil, and the blood….what was that?”
Sam looked down at his bandaged hand. “In order to ready the vessel, the blood of the mother and a related Seer are used to baptize an infant Seer. The blood of the father and the infant Seer are then required to open the vessel, to make her pliable enough for the demon to enter. Infants, as a general rule, have a natural protection. Demons can take kids, but usually not until they’re at least 5…not until they understand right and wrong, not before they can consciously choose to do the wrong.”
“How does you adding more blood change it?”
Sam looked up to John. “Blood is one of the most protective things on the planet. Family blood especially. That was your father’s blood and my blood. It changed everything, and rather than opening her up, it locked the doors and threw the key into a deep pit.”
John held up his own bandaged hand as Dean looked. Dean took another swig from the bottle. “I’m tired,” he announced suddenly, his words slurring a little.
“I haven’t finished patching you up.” John said, one hand on his shoulder keeping Dean in his chair.
“I’m fine. Want sleep.”
“Yeah, fine. Whatever. Sam, your turn then, let’s have a look at that calf.”
Sam complied, settling Dana down on a blanket on the floor before laying beside her and offering up his lower leg for inspection. He pillowed his head on his arms and watched Dana chew on her dog, scarcely wincing when John pinched the wound closed. “You should drink some whiskey to dull the pain.” John said.
Dean roused himself from the chair, setting the bottle down by Sam’s head before stumbling his way up the stairs. “I’m good. Go ahead.” Sam said, closing his eyes.
“It’s going to hurt.”
Sam only nodded. “I know.”
Dana moved forward, closer to Sam’s face as John’s fingers nimbly pushed the needle through his skin. She mimicked his position, tiny hands under her head and smiled at him. Sam found himself smiling back. Her eyes twinkled and for a moment he could see himself in them. There was something so pure in her face when she looked at him, and it took him a long time staring at her to understand what it was.
When he did, he flushed, his whole body warm and his heart pattering a little faster. He reached out with one finger to brush her face as her eyes drifted shut sleepily. “Yeah, baby…I love you too,” he whispered.
She sighed a little and then her eyes were closed and John was patting his thigh. “All done.”
Sam nodded. He sat up, surprised to find that Missouri had left the room. John sat in the chair and reached for the bottle she had left behind. Sam wet his lips and watched, the slump in the chair, the tired that hung in the bags under his eyes. Now probably wasn’t the time for this conversation…but Sam wasn’t sure he’d ever have the nerve again.
“I have no right to ask for anything at this point,” he started. “I know I’ve done some terrible things, and I’ve lied to you and to Dean. But…I…” He looked down at his leg, turning it to see the neat, even stitches. “I wanted you to know…how much I…” He exhaled and scolded himself. This shouldn’t be so hard.
“This is so retarded,” he muttered. “I’ve hated you for a really long time…ever since I can remember. I realize now that all the reasons were lies. I believed them, when they told me…I believed them.” He looked up at John with hope in his eyes. “I wanted to—can you…forgive me?”
John’s eyes narrowed and he took a long drink from the bottle before leaning forward. “Before I answer you, I have a few things I want to say.”
Sam swallowed and nodded. “Okay.”
“I want you to know I heard you…there, when it was over. I heard you.”
Sam felt tears forming and lowered his eyes. “Oh?” He knew without asking what the older man meant. “I…could have done it any time…I didn’t want to let him go.”
John nodded and sat back in his chair. “But you did.”
Sam felt the tears on his cheek and waited. “What you have done in the years before you met Dean, before you knew the truth…none of that is your fault. What you will bear the blame for are the things you’ve done since you’ve known. We all make choices, Sam. Everyday. Today you made good choices.”
Sam drew in a shuddering breath. “Thank you, sir.”
John smiled. “Whatever came before, Sam…all of that…I forgave you the first time I saw you. The rest…that may take a while.”
“Fair enough.” Sam climbed to his feet. “Thank you.”
“Go on, get some sleep. I’ll put Dana to bed.”
Sam nodded and made for the stairs. “Oh, and Sam?” He turned with one foot on the step. “I think it would be okay if you wanted to call me Dad.” Sam smiled and nodded again. Then made his way up the stairs.
He paused at Dean’s door, easing it open to check on him. Dean was asleep on his side, his torn up back open to the air. Sam shook his head, knowing his brother had gotten off light. The damage, as Harrier attacks went, was usually much more severe.
That made him stop, looking at his own scars, suddenly remembering that with the compulsory hex removed, Dean had been seeing Sam’s scars for several hours. That, combined with the anger in his voice…Sam licked his lips. Anger he understood, he could cope with anger. Revulsion though…the scars would naturally lead to questions, to knowing what had been done to him…that was something Sam wasn’t ready for.
With a sigh, Sam slipped from the room and across the hall. He took a moment to pull the blinds on the bright morning sunshine before stripping and slipping into bed. It didn’t take long for the exhaustion of his body to trump his racing mind and drag him into sleep.
The room was dark when he woke, light touches on his arms, the weight of another body on the bed. He opened his eyes slowly, finding Dean there with him. “Dean?”
It was apparent as Sam pulled himself to a seat against the headboard that Dean had been crying. “I had a dream.” Dean said, reaching for him. “You died. I lost you.”
“I’m right here Dean. I’m fine.”
“Want you.”
Dean leaned in to kiss him and Sam stopped him. “What?” Dean looked confused. “I thought you wanted this.”
“And you never did. Not once you knew who I was.” Sam pulled away and climbed out of bed, suddenly conscious of the fact that he was naked. He paced away.
“Not true.” Dean was on his feet and following him. “Sam. Listen.”
Sam shook his head. “Dean, I lied to you. I used that hex to make you want me. It wasn’t real.”
“I know about hexes too Sam.” Dean insisted. “You can’t work with emotion that isn’t there to begin with.”
Sam ducked past him and stalked over to the light switch. “You don’t know what you’re asking for, Dean. I’m not the person you think I am.” He turned the lights on and Dean squinted a little in the sudden wash of light. “Take a good look. Look at this and tell me you want me.”
Sam dropped his gaze. “My whole life has been a lie. Its time to face the truth.”
Dean was suddenly in front of him, pressing him against the wall, his mouth slanting over Sam’s, his tongue dipping lightly into Sam’s mouth. His hands cupped Sam’s face as they kissed, then slowly, his left had traced the first line of scarring that stretched from just to the right of Sam’s nose off toward his ear. As his hand reached Sam’s neck, he broke the kiss, his lips trailing after his hand.
Dean’s tongue traced the patterns of the marks, up behind Sam’s ear, and down over the corded muscle of his neck. Sam moaned and pushed at him weakly with the other hand. Dean moved back to his mouth, his kiss soft. Sam squirmed under him, nervous and uncertain. “Let me show you truth.” Dean whispered. Sam shuddered and Dean turned his mouth back to Sam’s shoulder.
He pressed open mouth kisses along the thick marks of claws, his tongue burning a trail down his arm, then up again to find a new trail down over Sam’s chest. The burn pattern swirled under his nipple and Dean followed, kissing around it before sucking the hard nub into his mouth.
Sam stopped wiggling, stopped moving. His breathing was shallow and his cock, Dean couldn’t help but notice, was hard. Dean kissed his way back up Sam’s body, his hands sliding over the bumpy, scarred skin and the smooth normal skin together. “Want you.” Dean’s kiss was a little more intense, his tongue dipping deeper, his lips claiming Sam’s for his own. “Want all of you.” He nipped lightly at his lower lip before delving back into the hot, moist cavern of his mouth. “Want all of you, Sammy.”
Sam moaned into his mouth, then pushed them off the wall, spinning them until they were moving toward the bed. “Dean…Dean…” Sam’s hands pushed at Dean’s boxers, even as he was falling down onto the bed.
“It’s okay Sam.” Dean stepped out of the boxers and followed, his hands moving over the bumpy skin, keeping himself connected. He slipped one hand over Sam’s foot, caressing the calloused arch and up over the ankle. He worked his way with soft hands and tender lips and hot tongue up every damaged inch of skin until he reached Sam’s mouth. “You taste so good Sammy…” He pulled back when he felt wetness, surprised to find Sam crying. “Is this okay?”
Sam nodded slowly then pulled Dean closer, kissing deeply and then looking into his eyes. “Go slow.”
Dean nodded and kissed him again, taking his time, his hands moving down to cup Sam’s cock. Sam surged under him, his cock gliding into Dean’s hand. Dean let his lips wander again, away from Sam’s lips and down…crisscrossing from his right side to his left, stroking as much skin as he could with lips and tongue. When he reached Sam’s cock it was already leaking pre-cum. Dean licked it, looking up at Sam and smiling when Sam lurched. “Easy, Sammy….I got you…”
Dean’s open mouth descended, closing over the tip, his tongue working that little knot of nerves under the head before swallowing him down and sucking all the way back up. “God, Sam…”
Dean moved so that he could cradle Sam’s balls with one hand before turning his attention to long licks up the side of his cock. Sam’s whimpers made him look up, concerned, but the combination of tears and open-mouthed lust made Dean shiver. His hand cupping Sam’s balls moved, one finger sliding further down, sliding into the crease of Sam’s ass.
Sam stiffened, his legs tensing. Dean blew hot air onto this dick and moved the hand back. “Slow, Sam. Easy and slow,” he murmured. He went back to gently licking at Sam’s cock.
“Dean…” Sam’s voice was small, filled with need and Dean nodded before swallowing his full length. “Fuck, Dean.” He set a swift rhythm, bobbing his head as Sam’s hips started to thrust upward to meet him. He came in a rush, his body arching upward as Dean swallowed, and descending slowly back to the bed.
Sam was panting, chest heaving, tears painting his face. Dean slid up to lay beside him, his own cock hot and hard. He kissed at the tears on Sam’s face. “It’s okay, Sam. It’s okay.”
Sam shivered. “I want to…I do…I just…I can’t…”
“Shh…its okay.” Dean gathered him closer. “I understand.”
“Can’t.” Sam cried harder, sobs wracking his body as Dean held him. As they passed, Dean held his chin.
“Sammy, look at me.”
Sam’s eyes met his, green to green and intense with tears. “I understand. I know.” Dean’s eyes roamed over his face, his hand tracing the lines of scars. “Do you understand me?”
Sam saw the reflection of a shared horror in Dean’s eyes and nodded. “Good.” Dean shifted to make his back more comfortable.
They lay comfortable and silent as the darkness in the room deepened. It was a while before Sam stirred, turning to face Dean. “I can’t promise anything,” he whispered. “I can’t promise I can change who I am.”
“You already have.” Dean whispered back.
“I don’t know what happens next.”
Dean chuckled. “Me either. We’ve been at this so long…”
“Would it be…okay…if I stayed a while?”
“Where else would you go?” Dean rubbed his hand over Sam’s arm. “You’re my brother, Sammy, and I’m going to take care of you from now on.”
Sam laughed a little, his smile bright. “And who’s going to take care of you?”
Dean smiled back. “I guess that’s your job, being the brother and all.”
Sam snuggled in under Dean’s chin, holding Dean’s hand in his. “I just wonder which one of us is the kept one,” he said, with a smile in his voice.
“Go to sleep Sammy.”
