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justinedelargeAuthor: 
justinedelarge
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing(s): Sam/Dean
Rating: R
Warning: Wincest (Sam is a few months shy of legal age)
Word Count: 2536
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Just for fun.
Summary: Ever wonder how Dean started talking dirty? The genesis is in the way Sam and Dean make their feelings for each other physical. This story has dirty talk, all the feels you can handle, infinite love and even a plot that develops into a nail-biting narrative, with the best kind of hurt/comfort.
Chapter Summary: We're back in Vesi’s house, the night after John, Bobby and Reggie confronted the resurrected Spivey. This is what takes place while back at Bobby’s house, Sam and Dean are doing the binding ritual with the knives, and being with each other in the most intimate of ways.
It was the morning after the strange and disturbing confrontation with Spivey that ended with Reggie's knife in his chest.
The men sat around the table eating toast and drinking coffee, while Vesi fried up ham and eggs. It was important to eat before they did the salt-and-burn of Spivey, because he was newly dead, not just dessicated bones, and the smell was going to be bad.
John looked haggard, with deep black circles under his eyes.
They ate in silence, shoveling the food into their mouths. Then they went to take care of Spivey.
Vesi had dug a deep pit, and he and Pritchard easily carried Spivey’s body out and settled him inside. John strewed more salt over the body, and doused him with lighter fluid. He flicked his Zippo and was about to toss it in the pit when Reggie grabbed his hand. “Waste of a perfectly good Zippo.” He held up a small, dry branch, and lit it off the Zippo, and tossed it in.
Spivey erupted in a rustling ball of flame.
They stood watch as Spivey burned, gouts of pungent smoke rising from the pit.
Bobby sniffed. “Not so bad when they’re fresh.”
“True.” Reggie’s moustache twitched.
“When they’ve decomposed some… that’s pretty rank. Like burning rotten oysters and vomit.”
“This really ain’t bad. Smells kind of like… what… burnt pork roast?”” Bobby glanced at Pritchard, whose face was turning pale.
“Sweeter, though.” Reggie added.
“Like when the spit broke and my pineapple pig fell into the fire,” Vesi added.
Pritchard made a quiet “urp.”
John repressed a smile. “To be honest? It smells like steak. Like a really good grilled t-bone.”
Pritchard broke with a miserable groan, bending over and heaving up the contents of his breakfast into the dirt between his feet.
The other men roared with laughter. Bobby clapped him on the back. “Welcome to the Salt and Burn Club, Pritch.”
~
After Spivey had burned himself out, Vesi left him to cool before sprinkling the remains with limestone and burying them.
They went inside.
“Never too early.” Vesi cracked open a fresh bottle of whiskey and brought out four shot glasses. “I’ll drive us to Joseph’s house.” He poured a shot for the other men, and got himself another cup of coffee.
John tossed back the shot, drawing his lips back over his teeth in a snarl at the burn, and then went to use the phone. “Gotta call the boys.”
John quickly made sure that Sam and Dean were ok, and that nothing suspicious had happened during the night. “We’ve got a source here that looks promising, so we’re going to stay one more day, and head home tomorrow.”
When he got off the phone, Bobby motioned to him to join him and Reggie in the living room.
“There’s something you need to know.” Bobby poured John another shot.
Reggie told John about Dean’s dream the night the doctor said Sam was developing pneumonia. He told him about how Dean said he smelled sulphur, how he saw yellow eyes in the corner of the room, how he was 20 in the dream, not a four-year-old boy like the night Mary died. He reminded him how Sam was remarkably so much better the next morning.
John sat motionless for a long time. Then he sighed, blowing out a huge breath that seemed to be holding his spine straight, and slumped over, head in his hands.
He finally spoke. “The demon. He was there that night. In your house. With us.”
Bobby’s mouth tightened. “Maybe.”
“How could it have gotten in? Your place is better warded than any place on earth.”
“I don’t know.”
John couldn’t quite bring himself to say it. “And you think it… it had something to do with Sam getting better.”
Reggie spoke. “Yes. I do.”
John stared, horrified. “A demon. The demon that killed my wife. That demon… healed my son?”
“You heard what Spivey said. ‘Sam Winchester is special. He is not to be touched.’”
“You can’t trust a word that man says.” John turned his head away stubbornly.
“Spivey was dead. This demon brought him back to life. Just to punish him for what he did to Sam. Christ, John, it made Spivey apologize to you for hurting Sam.”
“That’s what he wants us to believe,” John practically hissed. “Demons lie. They twist things and manipulate people. You can’t trust anything they want you to believe. And you damn well can’t trust Earle Spivey.”
“You’re right. Can’t trust a demon. Or a human that’s sold his soul to one. But there’s something to it. And you know that.”
John looked like a man pushed to the very brink of what he could stand. “Bobby…what the hell is going on?”
~
They piled into Vesi’s van and went to Joseph’s house, a renovated cabin on the outskirts of town.
Joseph was a slender man in his late thirties, with a pronounced nose and naturally red, thick hair that fell to his shoulders. He was dressed in tailored slacks, a subtle vintage paisley shirt buttoned to the neck, and wore a large silver ankh with a black stone in the join of the loop and crosspiece.
He had already pulled several ornate books from his massive library which took up the bulk of the ground floor, complete with climate and humidity controls, and set them out on the reading table in the center of the room.
He opened one of them, a beautiful vellum-bound volume with gilt edges, and drew John’s attention to a page. “Azazel’s not just any demon. He’s a ruling demon.”
“Bobby said he was one of the Grigori?”
“Yes. They were supposed to keep watch on humankind, but they became corrupted by pleasures of the flesh. Some say it was because they were lonely, so far from Heaven. They married human women, had children.”
“Children?” Vesi looked surprised.
“Oh yes. God gave them the ability to breed with humans. And it was that sin that made them Outcast. Which raises the question, why did God condemn them for doing something that he specifically gave them the ability to do?”
Joseph flipped open another book, a massive tome with raised bands on the spine and marbled boards. He began to read. “So here’s what I found after you called, Bobby.” He trailed his finger along the text until he found the passage he wanted. “I’ll translate. And paraphrase. The children of the Grigori started running rampant, acting like they were better than humans, taking everything they owned, eating them like lambs, and God sent Metatron and one of the seraphim to ask the Grigori to do what was just, and leave humans alone. The Grigori refused by turning their argument against them. So God sent Metatron and Raphael to ask them to do what was intelligent and reasonable. Again, the Grigori turned that argument against them. So God sent Metatron and Gabriel, who asked them to show mercy to humanity and send their children somewhere else. And again, they refused.”
Joseph took a drink of water and turned the page.
“The fourth time, Metatron came with the seraph Uriel. Uriel told them, you’ve met the angels of justice, reason and mercy, and you said no to their requests. So God will be just, reasonable and merciful to his children, humanity, and will slaughter yours. They will henceforth be called the Nephilim, and will be hunted.
“Know that you have spoken with the Angel of Justice, Thought, and Mercy. Now you speak to the Angel of Death.” Bobby spoke as if in a trance, dragging the memory up from some wrinkled recess of his brain.
Joseph’s eyes snapped to Bobby’s face, a look of surprise on his face. “Yes. Exactly.” He looked back down at the book. “And God sent the great flood to rid the earth of the Nephilim. As in the great Biblical flood.”
John looked shaken. “Noah’s Ark.”
Joseph nodded. He jumped to his feet and began pulling down other books, until he had a large heap on the table. “We may be able to find out more about Azazel in some of these books.” He pulled up enough chairs for everyone. “Get comfortable. This may take a while.”
John and Vesi took the books in English. Bobby looked at the ones in Japanese and Aramaic. Joseph, of course, took the ones in Sumerian and Enochian.
Joseph eyed the baby-faced Pritchard carefully, and rose, selecting a newer volume from a shelf and sliding it across the table to him. Pritchard stared up at him, eyes going huge. “Really?” He looked at the other, older men, and waved the book in the air. It was a bound volume of the Bible Comic Books. “Are you all just gonna bust my balls? Forever?”
Reggie chewed his toothpick. “Probably.”
Joseph took pity and gave Pritchard the Book of Enoch.”Knock yourself out.”
The men spent hours poring over the old books, taking breaks occasionally to get a drink of water or snack from the kitchen, washing and drying their hands thoroughly before Joseph would let them near the books again.
Pritchard was the first to get a hit. “I got something. Azazel is the angel that taught men how to make weapons.”
Reggie looked up quickly at that.
“Says he also taught women how to make cosmetics,” Pritchard continued.
“Seriously?” John stared across the table at him.
Pritchard grinned, and read out loud."And Azazel taught men to make swords, and knives, and shields, and breastplates, and made known to them the metals of the earth and the art of working them, and bracelets, and ornaments, and the use of antimony, and the beautifying of the eyelids, and all kinds of costly stones, and all colouring tinctures.’ They were secrets from Heaven. And Azazel passed them on to humans."
Late morning passed into late afternoon.
Bobby found a mention of Azazel in a Sumerian text so old, the pages had to be handled with exquisite care so as not to make them crumble and crack. “This says that Azazel has the ability to enter the human mind and conjure up images.”
John found one brief mention. “Azazel is known for creating acts of chaos and mischief, purely because he enjoys it.” He sighed. “Great.”
Late afternoon turned to evening.
Vesi found an account of a visitation by Azazel, in which he showed no reaction to holy water and was able to cross salt lines and “that the symbols of warding were powerless to stop him from gaining entrance.”
“Crap.” Bobby’s face fell.
Reggie turned up the most disturbing bit of lore. “As an angelic being, Azazel had the power to resurrect the dead, and heal the injured. These abilities did not disappear when he was cast out and became demonic. And Azazel is particularly known for his ability to create and manipulate fire.”
They decided to head back to Vesi’s house and figure out what to do next based on what they had learned, while Joseph continued his research on Azazel.
Bobby spoke to Joseph quietly, with restrained urgency. Joseph listened intently, and laughed. He went to a special cabinet, unlocked it, and removed the Daemonolatreiae Libri Tres.
Bobby stroked the cover like it was a newborn baby.
Bobby whispered in Joseph’s ear. Joseph laughed in earnest this time, and took the camera Bobby pulled from his pocket. Bobby held the book up next to his face and grinned as Joseph took a picture.
Bobby slid the camera back into his pocket. “Rufus is gonna shit bricks.”
They let Bobby have some time alone with the book, and went to the kitchen for some tea. No one spoke. They just drank their tea in silence and stared into space, lost in thought. When they came back into Joseph’s library, Bobby was furiously scribbling in his notebook.
Joseph said, “You should come back, spend a few days with it. And…you may copy it.”
Bobby wiped his eyes and tried to look gruff and stoic.
The men packed up their notes and thanked their host. On the way out, Joseph stopped Vesi in the hallway. “I don’t think I’m going to find that much more in books.” He spoke softly so the others couldn’t hear. “If you want to find out more, you’re going to need…other sources, I’m afraid.”
Vesi closed his eyes. “I was afraid of that.”
~
Back at Vesi’s house, John stepped into the office to call the boys.
“Hey, Dean.” John kept his voice light. “How’s it going?”
“Oh, you know. Pretty quiet. We’re just hanging out.”
“How is Sam doing?”
“Good. He’s good. He’s really a lot better.”
John’s eyelids fluttered shut. “Glad to hear it.”
“When are you coming back?”
“Tomorrow morning. We should be there by mid-afternoon.”
“Dad. Spivey…”
“He’s dead, Dean. Really dead.”
Dean said nothing for a long moment. “You’re sure.”
“I burned him myself. Nothing but ash and bones now.”
“Good.” Dean’s voice was soft with relief.
“I’ll fill you both in on everything when we get back.”
“Ok.”
“Oh, and Dean?” John tried to keep his tone conversational. “Everything been ok there? Nothing…unusual?”
“Dad. What’s going on?” Dean missed nothing. His voice was suddenly tight with concern.
“Just tell me.”
“Nope. Nothing unusual. At all. Why?”
“No weird dreams?”
“Reggie told you?”
“Yes. We… Dean. That may not have been just a dream.”
Silence on the other end of the line.
“I’ll tell you everything tomorrow. Just… Dean, just watch out for Sam.”
“I always do. Dad, what aren’t you—“
“There’s too much to get into now. Just keep an extra close eye on your brother. Stay in the house. We’ll be back tomorrow. ”
As he was about to hang up the phone, Reggie was at John’s side, motioning that he wanted to talk to Dean. John passed the phone over. “Hitting the head before we take off,” he said.
“Hey, it’s Reggie. Did you…” Reggie cleared his throat. “Did you do that thing I asked you?”
“The ritual with the knives? Yeah. We did.”
Reggie blew out a breath of relief. “Good. Now I need you two to do something else for me. Keep them on you at all times. You got me? At all times. Either on you or under your pillow. If you’re in the shower, make sure they’re within arm’s reach. Promise me.”
“I promise. What’s going on? Should I be scared?”
Reggie paused, thinking. “No.”
Dean’s exhale of relief was audible through the phone.
“No. Just keep Sam as close to you as you can, and keep those knives on you.”
Back in Bobby’s house, Sam came up behind Dean and wrapped his arms around him, nuzzling Dean’s neck. “What did Dad say?”
Dean spun and pulled Sam to him, holding him tight, hand pressed to Sam’s head.
“Dean. You’re shaking.”
Dean just held him tighter, staring over Sam’s shoulder, looking around the room frantically.
Sam’s fingers clutched at Dean convulsively. “What… Dean. You’re scaring me.”
Dean took a deep breath and willed himself to calm down. But he wouldn’t let go of Sam.
“We’re good. You’re safe, Sammy.” Dean held Sam close. “I’m here. You’re safe.”
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no subject
Date: 2012-12-19 08:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-18 03:34 pm (UTC)They've got Dean terrified. I bet he doesn't let Sam out of his sight, even to go to the bathroom. I just hope they keep the knives on them.
Wondering about their knives though...since Azazel taught men how to make weapons, will the knives work against him?
no subject
Date: 2012-12-19 08:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-18 03:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-19 08:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-18 07:04 pm (UTC)Anyway, loved the new chapter, still rooting so much for Bobby and Reggie as well! Looking forward to more!
no subject
Date: 2012-12-19 08:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-19 10:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-19 04:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-19 08:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-21 06:47 am (UTC)<3
no subject
Date: 2012-12-21 06:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-25 07:32 pm (UTC)Great chapter...I love dean clinging to sam like that, can't wait to see where your lovely imagination is taking us!
no subject
Date: 2012-12-31 04:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-08-13 07:31 pm (UTC)I was just reading some of the comments and I have to agree with those that can't see the story going anywhere but AU because they can't picture Sam leaving for Stanford ( at least without Dean).
I couldn't imagine any circumstance where Sam would willingly leave Dean, or vice versa.
Another great update...Azazel's power is pretty damn scary.
no subject
Date: 2013-12-07 08:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-12-07 05:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-12-21 03:01 pm (UTC)Bobby sniffed. “Not so bad when they’re fresh.”
“True.” Reggie’s moustache twitched.
“When they’ve decomposed some… that’s pretty rank. Like burning rotten oysters and vomit.”
“This really ain’t bad. Smells kind of like… what… burnt pork roast?”” Bobby glanced at Pritchard, whose face was turning pale.
“Sweeter, though.” Reggie added.
“Like when the spit broke and my pineapple pig fell into the fire,” Vesi added.
Pritchard made a quiet “urp.”
John repressed a smile. “To be honest? It smells like steak. Like a really good grilled t-bone.”
Had me in absolute fits. John's comment was the last straw.
no subject
Date: 2013-12-21 04:46 pm (UTC)