Nothing, Supernatural, NC-17

[phantisma]

Fandom: Supernatural
Title: Nothing
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3858

Summary: A sequel to Anything which was a Christmas request from nanakomatsu. Sam has bought his brother back from slavers who kidnapped him, and is doing what he can to break the programming and remind Dean that he's more than the nothing they trained him to be.

A/Ns and Warnings: Slave!Dean, rimming, references (still vague at this point) to torture and rape...not exactly pretty stuff here.



“Dean?”

He hadn’t been gone but an hour, picking up clothes that would fit Dean and checking to make sure they hadn’t been followed. There wasn’t much of anywhere Dean could hide here in this tiny motel room. Sam let his eyes adjust to the gloom, then found him, huddled in the corner.

“Hey, I got you some clothes.” Sam put the packages on the bed and crossed to Dean. He was naked again, the collar around his neck, his head bent forward on his knees. “Dean?”

Sam shook his head. It had been three days since he’d found his brother and bought him from a slave market operating out of a warehouse in downtown Rochester, NY. Aside from that moment of recognition, that moment of confession and Sam’s subsequent weakness, Dean had shown no signs of the brother he once knew.

They were in Virginia now, and Sam was at a loss for how to help him.

Dean whimpered when Sam touched him. When he got like this Sam had little choice but to issue commands in order to get any response out of him. “Tell me what’s wrong Dean.”

Dean’s face lifted and his eyes showed fear. “If I am displeasing, you will return me…Yet, you will not allow me to please you. I do not understand.”

Sam sighed. “I am not ever returning you to Gorlian, Dean. Never. You’re mine…understand?”

There was relief on his face then. “I am well trained. I want to serve you.”

Sam nodded. “I know.” He caressed Dean’s hand and his chest tightened when Dean leaned into it. “I know you do, Dean. I’m…not used to it…we both have some adjustments to make.”

“I learn quickly. Please teach me what pleases you.”

Sam wanted to shut himself up in the bathroom again and cry…until an idea occurred to him. “Dean, maybe we can make a deal. Sit on the bed with me.”

Sam took his hand and drew him to the side of the bed. He brushed a hand through Dean’s hair and smiled softly. “I have questions I’d like to ask you. In return, I’ll show you what pleases me. That way, I learn what happened to you, and you learn how to make me happy.”

Dean nodded. “I am yours to command.”

Sam licked his lips. It wasn’t what he wanted, but if he could get Dean thinking about what had happened, maybe he’d remember where he came from. “I want you to answer me as honestly as you can, Dean.” Sam said, trying to catch his eyes. “What is the earliest memory you have?”

Dean shook his head and dropped his gaze. “I do not understand.”

“Your first memory.” Sam watched him struggle, then squeezed his hand. “Close your eyes and take a deep breath. You remember the market where I found you.”

Dean nodded. “Good. Tell me what came before that.”

“We came in a truck.”

“Good. And before that?”

Dean shifted and something fleeting passed over his face. “Training.”

Sam held his breath. “Before that?”

Dean showed signs of distress. Sam squeezed his hand. “Stay with me Dean…you’re safe…you’re here with me…and I love you…and you’re never going back. Can you tell me?”

Dean licked his lips and took a deep breath. “It was dark…and there was…it hurt.” He was breathing heavy and he was shaking his head. “It hurt…I learned there…what I was.”

Sam didn’t want to know, and couldn’t help himself from asking. “What did you learn, Dean? What did they teach you?”

“I am nothing…no one…thrown away.”

Sam’s entire being cracked in half and he gathered Dean to him, pressing Dean’s head to his chest. “My god Dean…I’m so sorry…so…sorry…I should have…” He took a deep breath and tried to steady himself. “You are not nothing…you hear me? You’re…god, you’re my Dean…I walked into hell to find you, baby.”

“I was nothing…until you bought me. Now I am yours.” Dean said softly, his words ruffling the cotton of Sam’s shirt. He sat up, his face earnest as he looked at Sam. “What can I do now to make you happy?”

Sam let out a long breath and nodded. “When we were younger, you used to help me sleep.” He laid back, pulling Dean with him. “You used your finger and your lips to caress my face.” He put one finger to Dean’s forehead, tracing lightly over the skin and down the side. “It always made me feel safe and wanted…happy.”

Dean nodded, his green eyes going soft as he leveraged himself up on one elbow and leaned to mimic Sam’s movement with his own finger over Sam’s brow. Feather light, he traced the lines of Sam’s face and Sam closed his eyes. It was almost like stepping back in time. He felt his racing heart calm under the soothing touch.

When Dean added soft kisses, pressing against his closed eyes and over cheekbones, Sam moaned softly. “Lay with me,” he whispered, pulling Dean down to lay with his head on his shoulder. Lost in the illusion, Sam let himself drift off, dreaming about a world where he had never left Dean.


Each night when they stopped, Sam asked questions, and taught Dean something he should already know…doing his best to avoid anything that was actual sex. He couldn’t…shouldn’t take advantage of his brother that way. He managed to get him to dress during the day, though he still refused to wear shoes and convinced him to only wear the collar when they were alone.

He wasn’t sure where they were going. He’d left Stanford in the middle of a semester, without word, just gone. Getting back in would be difficult at best. A week, two…aimlessly driving. They were somewhere outside of Tulsa when his phone rang. “Shit, it’s Dad.” He tried to talk to Dean as if he was…well, Dean…was much as he could, hoping it would jog his memory. Sam put the phone to his ear. “Yeah.”

He kept his eyes on the road and listened while his father ranted, and when he took a breath, Sam just said, “Stop.” When his father didn’t start up again, Sam sighed. “He’s in no shape to see you right now. Trust me.”

He wasn’t going to keep their father from finding them, not if he was determined, despite the fact that they were living as far off the grid as possible. Gorlian and his squad of “recruiters” wouldn’t have given up on finding them yet. Sam looked aside at Dean. “He barely knows who he is Dad, he’s…” Sam sighed…then reminded himself that his father had gotten Dean into this. “He’s been brainwashed or something. Tortured, beaten. No…Fine. Where are you?” Sam estimated the distance between them and nodded, though his father wouldn’t see him and Dean wouldn’t care. “We’re almost to Tulsa. Call me when you get into town.”

It gave him two days, more or less. Two days to figure out how to tell John Winchester what had happened to his son…or break through the programming that was keeping his brother from him.

There was something of a routine that developed, and Sam fell into it as though it were normal. He’d go in and get them a room. Dean pulled their bags out of the car. Sam set up protection, Dean arranged their things in some pattern that pleased him. Sam went in to shower, Dean set out whatever food they had and stripped, putting on the collar and waiting on his knees by the bed for Sam to come out of the bathroom.

No matter how hard he tried, Sam couldn’t convince Dean not to do those things, and it was easier than watching him quiver and retreat into the corner. Sam did insist Dean eat with him , instead of waiting until he was done, though Dean never looked comfortable sitting in that chair. In fact, he tended to avoid furniture other than the bed, just like he avoided shoes.

Sam tried to carry on as if nothing were wrong, though his usual brotherly banter was tempered by his concern. “Dad’s coming to see you.” No reaction. “Do you want to see Dad?”

Dean turned vacant eyes to Sam. “Dad?” There was something…then Dean dropped his eyes to his half full paper plate. “He traded me away. Didn’t want me.”

His voice was so soft, Sam wasn’t sure he heard him. “You remember Dad, Dean?”

Dean shook his head. “They told me…wasn’t wanted, no one wanted me…gave me away…traded me for two turnips…” Dean’s eyes rose to meet Sam’s. “But you wanted me. You came for me.”

Sam smiled gently and touched Dean’s hand. “Yes, I did. Finish your dinner.”

Dean returned his attention to eating dutifully and Sam shook his head in frustration. Sam had his father’s version of what had happened; the end of a tiring hunt, Dean went to a bar while his father went to bed, Dean never came back to the motel. It wasn’t much, and whoever had done the programming had done a good job. Every night he came closer to getting Dean to remember…and every morning it was as though nothing had changed.

He was tired. What little sleep he was getting was filled with nightmares about Dean and losing him. Most of the night he laid awake, holding on to his brother and he’d drift off toward morning, waking when Dean slid from the bed to prepare himself for the day.

Sam left Dean eating and stretched out on the bed, pillowing his head on his arms. He had to find something new, something to trigger Dean. There was a tender hand on his lower back and Sam opened his eyes to find Dean kneeling beside the bed. “May I please you?”

Dean’s hand was already moving around his back, warm and tender and Sam nodded, closed his eyes as Dean’s considerable attention turned to massaging way the stress and pain that had built up in his back. Sam drifted as Dean kneaded muscles and slid across skin, instinctively finding the places where the muscles bunched from the car ride and crappy motel beds. At the first touch of tongue, Sam didn’t even notice the change, not until hands and tongue swept lower, over the rounds of his ass…not until that tongue moved through his crack and nuzzled against his hole.

“Dean—“

“I am told it is pleasing.” Dean said, gently pushing him back to the mattress. “I wish to.”

It was as close to expressing desire as Dean came these days and Sam gave in…swallowed his guilt as that tongue sent electric shocks through him. Dean laved over and around repeatedly before pushing in. Sam started a little, then relaxed. It had been a long time since he’d had anyone inside him…but Dean’s tongue was hot and wet as it wiggled in deeper and Sam found himself hard in seconds.

Fingers parted his ass cheeks, making room for Dean to work his face closer, his tongue deeper. Sam squirmed under him as he added a finger to reach Sam’s prostrate, stroking it until Sam was pushing his ass up into Dean’s face and cursing as he came.

Dean returned to kneeling beside the bed. Sam looked down at him. Dean was half hard, something he hadn’t seen since he’d found him…as if they trained him to never feel arousal. It gave him an idea. “Come to bed.”

Dean nodded and climbed into bed beside him and Sam sat up, reaching for his brother’s cock. “I want you to get hard for me Dean. I want to please you. I want to make you come.”

“It is forbidden.” Dean pulled away, fear on his face.

Sam smiled gently and kept his hand around Dean’s cock. “Not anymore. You belong to me now, Dean. My rules are the only ones that matter.” He pulled up his cock slowly, feeling it start to respond. “That’s it…I want it…I want you to come for me.”

Dean still looked afraid, but his hands were fisting in the sheets and his cock twitched in Sam’s hand. Sam moved so he could slide his tongue over the head, swirling it around over the slit the way he knew Dean liked it. Dean’s breathing changed pace and Sam took it as a sign, moving his hand to swallow down and suck his way back up. “Come on Dean…come for me.”

Dean made a strangled sort of cry, his hips heaving up and come shooting out of him hard and long, up in an arch to land against the wall with a splat. Sam chuckled while Dean gasped air into his lungs. “That’s my good boy.” Sam said, swiveling around to lay down and pull Dean to him. “Very good, Dean. I am very happy.”

It was early, probably too early to sleep, but Sam reached for the light, plunging the room into darkness. “I remember I was alone.” Dean said suddenly, his hand on Sam’s chest.

“What?”

“You asked for my earliest memory. I was alone. It was dark. Darker than this. I hurt all over. That is the first thing I remember.”

“I’m sorry you were alone, Dean.” Sam caressed the hand Dean had laid on his chest. “I promise you, you’ll never be alone again.”

“May I ask you something?”

“Of course, anything.”

“Is…Dean…is that my name?”

Sam bit off the anguish and nodded, breathing deep while he tried to find his voice. “Yes, Dean. It is your name, the one our parents gave you.”

Dean nodded against his shoulder. “It sounds…right…but I haven’t heard it in a very long time.”

“Do you remember my name?” Sam asked breathlessly. He hadn’t said it, not since the first time the collar came off. There had been “sir” and “master” once…and Sam had reacted so badly to that, that Dean had refrained from calling him anything since.

Dean went still and quiet and Sam nodded. “It’s okay. Sam. I’m Sam.”

Dean was still quiet and Sam shifted so he could see his face. “Dean?”

He shook his head and tried to turn away. “Look at me.”

There were tears in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Dean shook his head. “Sam.” It was like he was tasting the name, rolling it around his mouth. “I…remember a boy…he was scared…I called him Sam.”

Sam nodded. ‘Yes, that was me. You held me.”

Dean covered his face, then pulled his hands away again. Sam had already learned that he was trained to never hide his face. “I—I…may I go relieve myself?”

Sam didn’t want to let him go…not with a memory surfacing like that, but Dean was fragile so he nodded. Let him have a moment to deal with the emotion. It was a start.


“Dean, Dad will be here any minute. I need for you to put your clothes on.” Sam had awakened to his cell phone ringing and his father’s gruff voice indicating he was pulling in to Tulsa. Dean had come from his meticulous morning regimen in the bathroom. Sam wasn’t sure what all he did in there, but he was always done and waiting for Sam when he woke up. “Did you hear me Dean? Get dressed.”

Sam pulled himself out of bed and reached for his jeans. He was already on edge and his father wasn’t even here. By the time Sam had found a clean shirt and pulled it on, Dean was dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, waiting for another order.

“I’m going to meet him outside, explain things, okay?” Sam said. “You stay put and…eat something. I think we have some food left.” He looked up, eyes falling on the collar. He knew it was something of a security blanket for his brother. He was never comfortable with it off. He softened his voice. “I’d like it if you would take the collar off…okay? I’m not going to make it an order…but it would please me.”

Sam heard the familiar sound of his father’s truck. “I’ll be right outside.”

Sam was waiting with his back to the door when his father approached. “Wait.” Sam held up his hand.

“Let me see him, Sam.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed. “Not without knowing what’s going on…or as much of it as I’ve figured out. I’m not going to have you undoing all the work I’ve done so far.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You really don’t have a clue, do you? Tell me Dad, did you do any searching at all? Or were you too busy with your hunt to worry about where your son went?”

John’s eyes flashed with fury. “How dare you—“

“Me? That’s rich Dad. I’m not letting you in there until you understand. Dean didn’t run off or go blow off steam. He was hunted and kidnapped.”

John stopped his forward movement and stared at Sam. “What are you saying?”

“The people who grabbed Dean that night knew him, knew what they were doing. They trailed the two of you for a month before they made their move. They chose Dean…and waited until the two of you were separated.”

“Who?”

Sam dropped his gaze. He hadn’t said it out loud, not really. It made it too real…”Slavers, Dad. Men who specialize in…kidnapping people and things and turning them into slaves.”

“Slaves?” His face was blank, uncomprehending.

Sam nodded. “Yeah…they…well, I’m not sure entirely, because he doesn’t remember…but they broke him and programmed him.” Sam could tell it still wasn’t sinking in. “They programmed him to be submissive, to…pleasure his owner.”

He could see John begin to understand, saw the face pale. Somehow he couldn’t stop now that he’d started. “They used him, raped him…taught him to kneel in an unlocked cage and wait to be fucked by anyone who would pay the price to use him. He doesn’t even know his own name.”

John turned, doubled over and retched onto the gravel. Sam wouldn’t begrudge him that. He’d done the same more than once. “I found him at a fucking slave market in New York.”

Sam watched his father try to pull himself together. “How…how did you get him out?”

He tightened his jaw and looked away, the image of the place flaring in his mind. “I used every trick I could. Tapped every contact, every spell I could find. I bought him. It was the only way.”

“You…bought him?”

“I put a glamour on a bunch of newsprint and made it look like $100,000.” Sam sighed and sagged against the door.

“I’m sorry, Sam. I—I don’t even know what to say.” John shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “We argued…hell, we’d been arguing for days and I’d told him maybe it was time he left too, like you did. I thought…I didn’t think he’d leave the car…but if he was angry enough…”

“You are one arrogant SOB, you know that Dad? Dean would never have left you…even if you told him to.” Sam sighed explosively. “I only agreed to you seeing him because it might jog his memory. If you say or do anything to hurt him—“

“Sam, I’m not going to do anything. I just want to see him.”

Sam nodded and opened the door. Dean wasn’t at the table where he’d left him. His eyes scanned the room. He was in the corner, standing and watching the door. Sam slipped in and went to him, ignoring his father completely for the moment. “It’s okay Dean.”

Dean’s eyes stayed on their father. “You yelled. Go to the corner when there’s yelling.”

Dean had gotten accustomed to explaining behavior Sam apparently didn’t understand. Sam nodded and ran a hand down Dean’s arm. “Yes, there was yelling. I’m sorry.”

“Is that him?”

Sam took his hand and drew him out of the corner. “Yes Dean, this is our father, John Winchester.” Dean’s breathing was irregular and Sam stopped them well over an arm’s reach away.

“My god, Dean. Are you…are you okay?”

Dean’s eyes were large and his free hand grabbed at Sam’s. “It’s okay Dean.” Sam encouraged…but Dean’s head started shaking and his eyes closed.

“Nothing.” Dean said, turning now away from John. “Didn’t want me. Sent me away.”

Sam’s eyes snapped up to his father’s. “Out.”

“Sam.”

“Get out.”

“Nothing. Nothing.” Dean went to his knees, assuming the familiar submissive posture Sam had found him in at the market.

“Now, Dad. Out.”

Sam heard the door closed and went to one knee beside Dean. “It’s okay Dean. He’s gone. It’s okay.” He stroked Dean’s face until the tension released a little and he could cajole Dean into looking at him. “You’re with me. I want you. I’ll never send you away.” Dean’s eyes met his. “Dean?”

“Sam.” There was uncertainty mixed with memory and Dean in the green depths, Sam cupped both hands to his face.

“Dean…I—stay with me…okay?”

Dean swallowed and nodded. “Can’t promise.”

“Try?”

Again, he nodded. His hands rose to Sam’s pulling them in to his lips. “I’m so sorry Sam.”

“No, god, no Dean.” Sam kissed his forehead. “Not your fault. None of it. Just…hold on to me. It’s okay.” Sam moved so he was sitting and pulled Dean against him.

Dean shook, his hands fisting in Sam’s shirt. “I let them…I let them…” He nuzzled into Sam’s neck. “I didn’t know what to do…couldn’t take any more…couldn’t find you in the dark…I was alone…”

Sam rocked him as though he were a child, watching the shadow of their father pace outside the window. “I found you Dean. I found you.” It took a long time for the shaking to pass and when it had, John Winchester no longer moved back in forth in front of their room.

Sam got them both up off the floor and sat Dean in the chair. He didn’t know what to say or do now. Dean sat dully staring at the floor and Sam was petrified he’d revert to his programming if they didn’t do something to reinforce this. “Can you tell me…what happened, Dean?”

Dean winced, then sighed, his whole body sagging in the chair. “I was drunk. Angry. Don’t remember much after I left the bar.”

Sam nodded, moving to the window to see where their father had gone. “I remember it was dark…when I woke up. I didn’t even understand why they were hitting me.”

Sam closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the cool glass. “You don’t have to, Dean…it’s okay.”

Dean didn’t respond and Sam turned to look. He was huddled in the chair, knees drawn up to his chest. He looked exhausted. “You should sleep.” Sam said. “I’ll talk to Dad.”

He shook his head. “If I sleep…I’ll forget again.”

Sam took his hands and guided him to the bed. “If you do, I’ll remind you again.” Sam kissed his forehead. “I’ll be here, I promise. Rest.”

He pulled the comforter up over his brother and turned to go find his father. “Sam?”

Dean’s voice stopped him and he turned. “I still belong…to you…don’t I?”

Sam swallowed the lump that lodged in his throat and nodded. “Always, Dean. Always.”