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justinedelarge
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: R
Warning: Wincest
Word Count: 6000
Disclaimer: I don't own what I don't own. But I DO own the parts that I own.
Summary: Lots of porn. And Sam finally calls Bobby, and talks to John. One or both of the boys may cry in this chapter. Or in any chapter. I write them crying a lot. It works for me and feels appropriate to everything they're going through.
Dean awoke to light spilling in through the heavy white curtains. Sam sat at the little table, reading. Dean stretched. “What time is it?”
Sam put the book down. “11:10.”
“You let me sleep in.”
“We don’t have to be anywhere or do anything. So yeah.”
Dean sat up and took a better look at Sam. His face was drawn, with dark circles under his eyes.
“Sammy?” Without deliberate intention, Dean was on his feet and at Sam’s side. “You ok?” He tipped Sam’s face up, examining it for signs of pain or sickness.
Sam’s smile was weary, but full of affection. “I’m fine. I just… I didn’t sleep well.”
Dean stroked Sam’s hair. “You sure? Can I get you anything?”
Sam turned in his chair and pulled the blackout curtains shut. Then he leaned back in his chair, hand on Dean’s flank, and gave him an appraising look all the way down his naked body and back up. The way the corners of his mouth curled up, the swipe of his tongue over his lower lip, was Dean’s answer.
Dean was already erect, simply from just having woken up, but the way Sam looked at him made him spring completely to attention. Sam bent forward and took Dean into his mouth, looking up at him with those hazel eyes, blinking slowly at the taste of him, uttering a soft, satisfied moan.
“Christ. You really like that, huh.”
Sam sucked on the head of Dean’s cock lazily, and pulled his mouth off. “I could do this all day.”
Dean groaned as Sam took him into his mouth again. “Hey Sam.”
Sam looked up.
Dean’s expression was full of mischief. “You could do that all day.”
Sam grinned, and licked a long stripe along the underside of Dean’s cock. “Ok.”
Sam worked his mouth and tongue on Dean until his legs were shaking so hard Sam took pity and had him sit on the edge of the bed. Kneeling in front of him, Sam worshipped Dean’s cock, stroking it with his fingertips, nursing on the head, moaning as though it felt every bit as good in his mouth as his mouth felt on Dean’s cock.
He sealed his mouth around Dean and sucked as he lowered it, slowly, god, so slowly, as far down as he could take it, held him there, and then slowly pulled back, keeping his mouth nice and wet, keeping the suction tight. When he drew nearly all the way, he swirled his tongue around the head again and again, scraping the flat of it along the underside each time. Dean gasped and fell back onto the bed. “Christ. Sammy.
Sam did it again. And again. And again. He tried out different ways of using his mouth and tongue, watching Dean’s face, seeing what made Dean swear and shiver, learning what kinds of sounds Dean made when Sam turned his head sideways and slid his mouth and tongue up and down the underside of Dean’s cock, when he sucked both testicles into his mouth and tongued them, fingertips stroking the hard length. When he moved his mouth lower and swiped his tongue over Dean’s hole, Dean almost lost it right there.
Sam pushed Dean’s thighs back, opening him up, and attacked Dean like a starving man. He moaned as much as Dean did, lapping at him, stretching him open wider with his thumbs, probing his tongue inside Dean, trying to jam as much of it inside him as physically possible until Dean was crying out with each thrust of his tongue like Sam was actually fucking him.
He reached for his cock, but Sam swatted his hand away. Dean’s eyes went wide.
“Don’t want you to come yet.”
Dean’s head fell back with a groan, and he let his thighs fall open, let Sam do what he wanted to him.
Sam worked Dean over like a pro, tongue-fucking him feverishly, then lapping at his hole slowly, lovingly, lavishing him with attention, then moving up again, taking one ball into his mouth, nursing on it, then the other, then licking Dean’s cock like a lollipop slowly, then engulfing him with his mouth, taking him all the way down, Dean shuddering and tearing at the sheets and chanting, “Sam. Sammy. Sam.” And when he was about to come, Sam would just stop. Stroke his stomach and thighs until Dean stopped swearing and settled down. And then he would start it all over again.
The third time Sam pulled his mouth off before Dean came, Dean uttered an honest-to-god whimper.
Sam chuckled, licking at the sensitive skin of Dean’s inner thigh. “Hey. You said. I could do this all day.”
“I meant you could blow me over and over all day. You know. With me actually coming each time.”
Sam’s eyes darkened. “That what you want?”
Dean sat up. “Yeah. That’s what I fucking want. I want to come in your mouth, Sammy. Over and over. Want you to come in mine.” Dean’s voice was roughened by his desperate need to come. “I want us to fuck each other’s mouths all day and all night until our jaws hurt.”
Sam’s eyes fluttered shut, glorying in the sound of Dean talking dirty to him. He sealed his mouth around Dean’s cock and worked it with a vengeance.
“Yeah. There we go. That’s my good baby boy.” Sam moaned. “Can’t get enough, can you? Love my dick in your mouth, don’t you?” Sam nodded yes, careful not to scrape his teeth on Dean’s sensitive flesh. “I wanna see how much of my come you can swallow today. That’s what I fucking want, Sammy.” Dean’s eyes were a deep emerald green, locked onto Sam’s hazel ones. “Gonna give me what I want?”
Sam held Dean’s gaze, pulled off just long enough to gasp, “Always.”
“So good for me. Christ. Such a good little cocksucker.” Sam’s whole body shuddered at Dean’s words of praise. “Never get tired of hearing me talk, do you?”
“Never,” Sam whispered.
“Come on, Sammy, swallow that cock. Show me how much you love it. Make me come for you.”
And that set Sam off more than anything else he’d said. He looked up at Dean, eyes huge, and sucked Dean’s cock in a wordless plea, begging with his eyes and his warm wet mouth for Dean to come, please, come in my mouth, Dean, let me taste you, please, come for me. Come for me. Come for me.
And Dean always gave Sam what he wanted.
Dean came hard, spurting into Sam’s open, willing mouth, stomach contracting with the force of it, entire body jolting like electricity was shooting through him, chanting Sam’s name, eyes squeezed tight in the jesus christ I’m going to fucking die part of the orgasm, eyes open and gazing at Sam with pure adoration as Sam milked every last drop of come out of him and licked it up, Dean shaking with each aftershock.
Sam climbed up alongside Dean as he lay back on the bed, and Dean pulled him down into a kiss, licking the taste of himself out of Sam’s mouth. Sam groaned.
Dean looked up at him. “Your turn.”
Dean gave every bit as good as he got, stripping Sam bare, lapping at Sam’s cock like he had all the time in the world. Payback for the slow sweet torture Sam had just put him through. And Sam fucking loved it. He did everything Dean told him. Held his legs apart so Dean had easy access. Spread his ass open with his hands so Dean could lick him open with slow, wet swipes of his tongue. Begged nice and pretty for Dean to put his fingers inside him while he sucked his cock. So pretty that Dean made a mental note to tease Sam like this, until he was pliant and giddy and shameless, on practically a daily basis if he could. Sam held absolutely nothing back, not bound by shyness or shame or fear. He gave it all to Dean.
Dean worked two fingers in and out of Sam’s ass, milking that special spot, only giving Sam little kitten licks along his cock, or blowing moist warm breath, making Sam squirm and beg and plead for more. “How long can you stand it, Sammy?”
“I can’t. Dean. Come on. I can’t take anymore. Please.”
Dean’s grin was practically evil. “Not done playing with you yet, Sammy.”
Sam’s head fell back.
Dean tortured Sam with pleasure for a long, long time. He was exquisitely good at it. He brought Sam to the brink of tears, pleading to be allowed to come, and held him, kissing him softly, praising him, telling him how much he loved him, until Sam settled down… and then he asked Sam to take a little more for him.
And Sam did.
Dean did it all over again, lapping at Sam’s cock, sucking on it so slowly, enough to make it feel so good Sam shuddered but not enough to let him come, pulling off just in time, squeezing the base of Sam’s cock, his fingers in Sam’s ass the entire time because Sam loved that so much.
“Gonna do this all day, baby boy. Don’t worry. I’ll let you come.” Dean looked up at Sam mischievously. “Eventually. But I’m gonna fuck you all day. All night. Until you pass out.”
Sam’s smile in response was blinding. And there was something surprising in his expression. A flash of gratitude and relief.
Dean brought Sam to the edge over and over until the only two words Sam could remember were “Dean” and “please.” And then he took pity. “You did so good, Sammy. So good. Gonna reward you now.” Sam practically sobbed. Dean stabbed his fingers inside Sam, fucking him nice and hard, and swallowed Sam to the base, rising all the way back up and working the head of his cock.
Sam thrust his hips into the air, legs around Dean’s waist, his weight on his upper back, and fucked himself down on Dean’s fingers, crying out, thrashing on the bed, sounds ripped out of the depths of him as Dean finally let him come.
Dean swallowed every bit of it, loving the taste of Sam, his come somehow sweet and clean, with a distinct but pleasant mineral tang. “Love how you taste, Sammy,” he murmured, working his tongue into Sam’s slit to tease out the last droplets, as Sammy writhed and cried out beneath him.
He brought Sam a glass of water, helped him sit up and drink. Dean coughed, and finished the rest of the glass. When Sam had regained his motor functions, he ran his hand up Dean’s thigh. “Looks like your turn again.”
Sam took Dean, gorgeously erect again, into his mouth and worshipped his cock until he got hard again too. Then he shifted position so his hips were near Dean’s shoulders. Dean got the hint. He pulled Sam up and over, straddling his face, and pulled him down into a sixty-nine.
Sam went crazy, gripping Dean’s thighs hard, sucking his cock feverishly, bucking his hips and fucking Dean’s mouth, making the most delicious sounds Dean had ever heard Sam make. Dean hollowed his cheeks and sucked, letting his tongue go soft and flat, taking Sam deep, deeper than before, until Sam was fucking his throat.
Sam cried out even louder, mouth still sealed on Dean’s cock, over and over. Dean moved his hand up, slipped a finger into Sam’s ass, and that was it. Sam was done for. He shuddered, his cry amping up into a scream, mouth still locked on Dean. The feel of Sam screaming with pleasure on his cock as he flooded Dean’s mouth a second time sent Dean off, and they came nearly simultaneously, Dean just a few seconds behind.
They curled up in each other’s arms, Dean stroking Sam’s back. “I’ll never get tired of this. Of you.” Sam’s grin was blissful…and weary. “Yeah?”
“Damn straight.” Dean pulled Sam close. Sam’s eyes fluttered closed with exhaustion, but he forced them open again. “Get some sleep. I got you.” Sam’s expression flashed into something that disappeared so quickly Dean didn’t have a chance to name it. “Sam. I’m right here. I got you. We can go get something to eat after, but try to get a little sleep, ok?” Sam closed his eyes and nestled close to Dean. “Mmm.”
“I got you. You’re safe.” Dean wrapped himself around Sam. Sam fought it for a few moments, but he couldn’t hold sleep off for long. Soon, he was out.
Dean stayed awake as long as he could. Which wasn’t very long, as spent as he was. He closed his eyes and drifted into sleep.
Once again, he awoke to howls.
Sam had recoiled to the head of the bed, palms out as if trying to ward something off. His mouth worked, lips forming words without sound. He sucked in a huge breath, like gathering fuel for the firestorm of the next scream to surge out of his mouth.
Dean put his hands on Sam’s face and kissed him.
Sam’s mouth quivered, and his eyes flashed open.
Dean kept kissing him, so soft, so gentle. He stroked Sam’s face tenderly. Every motion slow, soothing, aching with love for Sam.
Sam pulled away, eyes searching Dean’s face, the room, confused and scared.
“You’re right here with me, Sammy. It’s ok.”
“Dean?” Sam blinked a few times, and blew out a huge, shuddering breath.
“I’m right here.” Dean rubbed his thumb over Sam’s jaw.
The force of Sam thudding into Dean’s chest, wrapping his arms around him tight and desperate, nearly knocked Dean onto his back.
“’S’alright, Sammy. You’re with me. No one’s gonna hurt you. I promise.”
Sam shook in his arms. “Keep talking.”
Sam was so receptive to Dean’s voice, in so many ways. And Dean had always been able to talk Sam down from a nightmare.
“You’re ok. I’m right here with you. And nothing bad ever happens when you’re with me, right?” Sam sniffed and nodded. “Ok then. So you’re good. Just a bad dream. And you don’t have to think about that stuff ever again, Sammy. I’m not going to let anything hurt you. Ok?” Sam nodded again, gentling under Dean’s words and touch. Dean held him, stroking him soothingly, murmuring reassuring words until Sam stopped shaking and sniffling. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
Sam looked up at Dean. He looked so weary it broke Dean’s heart.
Dean petted Sam’s cheek. “You hungry?”
“Yeah.”
Dean tipped Sam’s face up and kissed him like it was the first time. The last time. The only time. The way he kissed Sam made time snap to a dead stop. All there was, all there had ever been or would ever be, was Sam and Dean.
After a moment impossible to measure, time got a foothold again and started moving. Dean sniffled, and reached for his underwear. “Come on. Let’s get something to eat.”
They dressed quickly, hooked their knives to their belts, making sure they were hidden underneath their long flannel shirts and jackets, and stumbled back to the railroad car diner. They both ordered breakfast burritos and coffee. Sam slammed the contents of his cup before the waitress had finished filling Dean’s cup. She filled it again, eyes wide. She took their ticket back to the kitchen, and came back with a plastic insulated carafe of coffee and set it before Sam.
“Thank you.” Sam was surprised at the unexpected gesture. “That was real thoughtful of you.”
The waitress, a pretty blonde in her early twenties, beamed. “Look like you could use it.”
Sam drank most of the coffee himself. Dean didn’t notice at first, so intent on devouring his breakfast burrito, eyes closed in food bliss. “Everything is better as a burrito. Like, they should make burger burritos. Onion ring burritos.” Dean opened his eyes wide, like he just had an epiphany. “Dude. Pie burritos.”
“If we ever get a place with a kitchen, I’ll figure out how to make you pie burritos.” Sam’s face lit up with fondness.
Sam drank cup after cup of coffee. Dean cocked an eyebrow at him but said nothing. When their plates were clean and the carafe was empty, Dean handed the waitress the bill with cash. “No change, sweetheart.”
Sam gave Dean a look.
The waitress walked away, and Dean bumped his boot against Sam’s. “Don’t like me calling anyone else that?”
Sam’s lips pursed slightly, and he gave a slight shake no.
Dean laughed.
“What?”
“Fucking adorable.”
Sam’s expression was a cacophonous mixture of annoyance and pleasure.
Dean leaned over the table. “Come on, sweetheart.”
Sam looked down, but his cheeks flushed pink.
Dean coughed, and took a big drink of water.
“You ok?” Sam stood up, putting on his warm jacket.
“I’m fine. Just a little tickle in my throat.” Suddenly, that wicked grin was back. “Hey… you got anything that could help me out with that?” Dean chewed on his lower lip unconsciously.
Sam blushed. “Again?”
Dean practically pulled Sam out the door. Once they were outside, out of earshot of anyone, he leaned into Sam. “Finally get you alone. All to myself. Just us, in a room? We can do whatever we want?” Dean put his arm around Sam’s waist. “Right now, what I want is your cock in my mouth.”
A car approached from the opposite direction, and slowed as it approached them. “Fucking faggots.” The guy behind the wheel, a pale redhead with splotchy freckles, glared at them.
Sam and Dean flipped their jackets open and gripped the handles of their knives in a simultaneous motion that looked practiced.
The driver recoiled, sped up and drove away.
Sam’s breath, white vapor in the cold air, plumed out as he stalked toward the motel room. “Shit like that pisses me off.”
Dean made an effort to keep up. “Me too.” But Sam was clearly furious. Dean remembered what he’d been told. Part of PTSD was being quick to anger. So he let Sam walk off the moment, and by the time they got back to the motel room, he was visibly calmer.
Once inside with the door shut, Sam moosecharged him. “You want something, Dean?” Sam pressed his hardening cock against Dean’s thigh. Dean murmured, “Yeah,” nuzzling Sam’s neck.
“Say it.” Sam rocked against Dean, tipping his head to the side to let Dean have full access to his neck.
Dean groaned. “Gonna be the death of me, Sammy.”
“Say it,” Sam insisted. “I like it. When you talk.”
“Like my dirty mouth, huh?”
Sam shivered. “Love your dirty mouth.”
Dean drew his lips lightly over the soft skin at the front of Sam’s throat. “What I want, sweetheart, is to suck your cock.” Little kisses, the tip of his tongue darting out. “For the third time today.” Warm breath on Sam’s skin. “Want to taste you. Want to make you come for me. Come in my mouth.” Sam was already shivering. “And you know what I want to do then, baby boy?” Dean drew his hand up the inside of Sam’s thigh and across the front, palming his cock. Sam bit his lip with a groan. “I want to kiss you. Feed all that come back to you. Make you lick my dirty mouth nice and clean.”
“Jesus, Dean.” A shiver ran through Sam.
“Christ, I love you. Love how you get off on this. On the things I want to do to you. With you.”
“Do it.”
Dean sank to his knees, pushed Sam up against the door, and pulled his jeans open. Sam hadn’t bothered to put his underwear on, and the sight of Sam going commando made Dean swear.
He pulled his cock out and nuzzled his cheek against it.
“Dean.”
Dean looked up.
“After… after you…”
“Make you come in my mouth and feed it to you?”
Sam’s head smacked against the door. “Guh.”
“After that?”
Sam’s expression, avid, almost feral, made him look much older than he was. “I want you to fuck me.”
Dean dug his teeth into his lower lip. “Done.”
Dean didn’t tease Sam this time. He just lapped and sucked and pulled Sam’s orgasm out of him as fast as he could, moaning at the taste of Sam spilling into his mouth. He held it all, not swallowing, and brought him to the bed. Then he laid his baby brother out, brought his mouth down, opened it, letting Sam’s come spill into his mouth. And Sam fucking lost it, licking the taste of himself out of Dean’s mouth, moaning and lapping at the roof of Dean’s mouth, the sides of his cheeks, his teeth, licking it all up.
And with their mouths locked, the salty tang of Sam on their lips, Dean slicked himself up and took Sam, fucked him good and proper, rocking into him nice and slow until Sam got hard for him again, then fucking him hard and rough the way Sam demanded, hands pushing on his ass, words of desire, of command, spilling from his mouth. He fucked him like he owned him. Sam purred and writhed and urged him on, fist working his own cock, stripping it, murmuring encouragement into Dean’s mouth like Sam had never dared to do before, like all of Dean’s dirty talk had seeped inside Sam, taken root and grown into something deliciously wanton, sweet/filthy, all the better for Sam’s innocence. Fuck me, yeah, come on, fuck your baby brother, love how you fuck me, I know you love it, love being inside me, making me yours, all yours, fucking me so good, making me lose it for you, come on, Dean, I’m not gonna fucking break, I can take it, Dean, fuck me HARD, I need it, harder, fucking DO it…
Dean fucked Sam harder, driving inside him fierce and rough. But it wasn’t enough. Suddenly, Dean was on his back and Sam was riding him, rising and falling on his cock, fucking himself rougher than Dean would have ever dared, impaling himself on Dean hard and fast, so hard it had to have hurt, HAD to have hurt, but Sam was writhing and groaning like he was finally getting exactly what he wanted, what he needed desperately, and when he came, spilling all over Dean’s stomach and chest, his cry sounded very much like the sound he made in his nightmare.
Dean couldn’t stop the orgasm Sam drove out of him, came nice and hard the way Sam wanted him to. Couldn’t help it, seeing his Sammy so aggressive, so demanding. They collapsed on their sides, panting, flesh cooling. But as soon as they’d recovered their breath, Dean turned Sam’s face towards his.
“Sammy.”
Sam blinked, almost like he was coming back to himself.
“You know I’ll do anything you want, right?”
Sam nodded.
“Whatever kink gets you going, I’ll do it. No judgment. You know that. But… Sam. What’s going on?”
Sam tilted his head like a confused dog.
“You… it’s like… like you wanted me to hurt you.”
Sam closed his eyes, unable to meet Dean’s gaze.
“Talk to me.”
Sam fell over onto his back, his hand on Dean’s chest, never losing contact with him.
“I…” Sam took a deep breath, blew it out through his nose. “I’m… kind of fucked up right now.”
Dean turned onto his side, facing Sam.
“Kind of a lot.”
“It’s ok.” Dean put his hand on Sam’s flank, let it rest there, solid and reassuring.
“I can’t stop remembering.” Sam looked at Dean, hazel eyes so haunted. So hurt. “I get flashes. All day. For no reason. Just… like I was right back there. But this time…”
“It’s Dad.” Dean filled in the silence.
“Yeah.”
Dean closed his eyes, trying to shut down the flood of emotions.
“I don’t want to. But I can’t stop it. And when I sleep…” Sam’s voice was thin, scraped across jagged rocks until barely any of it was left. “It’s worse.”
Sam started to curl in on himself. Dean pulled him close. “I don’t know what to do.” His chest heaved. “Don’t know how to make it stop. But when I’m with you. When we’re…” He sucked in a breath. “It goes away. For a while. And the… the rougher it is, the more my brain shuts down.” Sam started to shake. “I’m sorry. I know… you don’t want to hurt me. I just… Dean. I don’t know what to do.”
Dean just held him, stroked his hair. “It’s ok. Sam. It’s fine. If that’s what you need, it’s ok. Whatever you need.” Dean put his fingers on Sam’s chin and tipped his head up, made him look Dean in the eye. “Dude. If it helps you for me to fuck you hard, I’m all over that.”
Sam laughed. Laughed for the first time in a while. The relief that coursed through Dean was dizzying.
“We’ll figure something out. And in the meantime… I’ll do whatever you need. Fuck you into the mattress. Cuddle you all night. Read you bedtime stories. Whatever.”
Sam stared at Dean like he was something unexpected. “Really?”
Dean shook his head. “Don’t you get it?”
Sam blinked at him, confused.
“I love you, you big jerk. I’ll do anything for you.”
Sam buried his face in Dean’s chest. “It’s… it’s ok?”
“Yeah it’s ok.” Dean held Sam close.
They lay together, breathing in unison.
Sam finally stirred. “I haven’t forgotten.”
Dean brushed his lips over Sam’s hair. “What?”
“We need to call Bobby. Tell him what’s up.”
It wasn’t lost on Dean that Sam said Bobby, not Dad.
“Yeah we do.”
Sam was silent for a long moment. “In the morning. Right before we head out.”
“However you want to play it.”
Sam thought about it. “Yeah. In the morning.”
“Where do you want to go tomorrow?”
Sam sat up and ran his fingers through his hair, smoothing it back. “I’ve been thinking about that.”
“Yeah?” Dean lay on his side, gazing up at his little brother. All the bruises were almost entirely gone now. The skin on Sam’s broken arm was paler than the rest but looked normal. To look at him, you would never know the physical abuse he had taken. But the other scars…they hadn’t faded so easily.
“I want to go to Texas.”
Dean grinned. “Alright.” Dean had always wanted to go to Texas. Sam too. Now, on the run from their family and their pockets full of cash, they finally had the chance.
Dean fell into an easy, relaxed sleep, snoring softly. Sam held him, watching him sleep. Then he sat up, picked up his book from the nightstand, and started to read.
He read all night. Dean slept, unaware.
~
Dean awoke with a yawn, and a series of coughs.
“You don’t sound so good.”
Dean rubbed his eyes. “I’m fine, Sammy.” He blinked at his little brother.”You get some sleep?”
Sam stretched. “Yeah.”
Dean nodded.
Both of them knew Sam was lying.
“Shower?”
Sam perked up. “Yeah.”
Dean let Sam pee in privacy, and then Sam let Dean do the same. It was one thing to live in each other’s pockets, but some boundaries had to be maintained, and things like that were one of them.
Then Dean ran the shower and called Sam in. As had become their routine, Dean went in first, held his hand out to Sam, and gently invited, but did not force, him in. Once under the spray, Dean held Sam, talked to him soft and sweet, reassured him that he could breathe just fine. He soaped Sam up, as much a seduction as it was a cleansing, distracting him from the blind panic of being in water through his clever fingers and tongue, until Sam was achingly hard, rutting against Dean’s leg, thinking only of the love and pleasure of being with Dean.
Dean didn’t let Sam come until he had shampooed and rinsed his hair, and let Sam do the same for him. Then he slicked up his cock with conditioner, and his right hand, and slid between Sam’s thighs from behind, working himself to climax while jacking Sam off until he came all over the white tiles of the shower wall.
He insisted on toweling Sam off. He’d come to love doing that for Sam, even though he was now perfectly capable of doing it himself.
Sam insisted on dressing himself now, however.
Dean eyed Sam as he dressed, reading the tension in the curve of his shoulders.”You want to get breakfast first? Coffee?”
Sam dropped his head. “No. I can’t eat right now.” Dean knew. Sam’s stomach was in knots. “After. I’ll call… and then we can drive for a while, and stop somewhere.”
“Do you want me to do it?”
Sam’s head snapped up. He looked at Dean like he’d just offered him a lifeline. Then his shoulders sagged. “No. I have to. We’re here because of me.”
“Not because of you. Because of—“
“We left because I made us leave.”
Dean couldn’t dispute that.
“So I’ll call.”
Sam sat up straight, picked up the phone, and placed the call. He patted the side of the bed, indicating Dean should sit next to him, and held the receiver away from his ear slightly so Dean could hear.
“Eldrich and Jones Funeral Home.”
“Bobby. It’s me.”
Silence.
“Sam?”
“Yeah.”
“Christ on a stick. Boy, are you ok?”
Sam ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m fine. We’re fine.”
“Where are you?”
“You know I’m not going to tell you that.”
Another moment of silence.
“You’re not?”
“No.”
“Guess that means you aren’t coming home anytime soon.”
Dean looked at Sam.
“No. We’re not.”
A heavy sigh. “Your dad is worried sick.”
“He’ll get over it.” Sam tensed up. Dean put his arm over Sam’s shoulders.
“Sam—“
“I didn’t call to talk about John’s feelings.”
Dean blinked. That was the first time Sam had ever referred to Dad as John.
“I… I have a lot to figure out. Ok? And I can’t be around him right now. Not until I get clear on a lot of stuff. But I wanted you to know we’re ok. We’re fine. And—”
Suddenly, a different voice was coming through the receiver. “Son?”
“John?” Sam’s voice was hard.
The sound John made was soft, almost imperceptible. But the pain was unmistakable.
“Are you safe?”
“Of course I’m safe. I’m with Dean.”
Dean couldn’t help but beam with pride and love.
“Before… look, we have a lot to talk about, but I have to tell you something. Warn you.”
Sam sat up. “Hiding something else from me? Why am I not surprised?”
John sighed. “That’s fair. I earned that. But… Sam. I need you to listen. That demon? He… he has something planned for you. Specifically you.”
Dean suddenly went cold all over.
“The reason Azazel brought Spivey back? It was to apologize to me. For hurting you. And to…” John’s voice cracked. “To apologize to you for hurting you.”
“What? Dad… what the hell are you talking about?”
“Spivey begged for my forgiveness, and yours. He said Azazel told him you were special. Not to be touched.”
Sam dropped the phone.
Dean picked it up. “…you hear me, Sam? The demon knows who you are. Knew already. I don’t know what his plan is. I don’t even know if Spivey was telling the truth. But… but I think he was. So do Reggie and Bobby. So you need to be careful. And you need to come home. So we can protect you.”
“Dad.”
“Dean? Where are you? What—“
“I’m not telling you where we are. And we aren’t coming back. Not for a while, at least. Maybe not for a long time.”
John was silent.
“We’re ok. I can keep him safe. You know I can.”
“Dean. Sam will be safer with more of us there to protect him.”
“What, like you did before? You’re the one that got him into this mess.”
“That’s not fair.”
“No, actually, that’s perfectly fair. Now, if you want to make it up to Sam, you and everyone there figure out what the hell is going on. Let me worry about keeping Sam safe. I’ll damn well do a better job at it than you ever did.” Dean’s anger was palpable. He kept his hand on Sam’s back, who was bent over, breathing rapidly.
“Dean, I’m still your father, and Sam is still a minor, and you’ll damn well listen to me when I tell you to get your asses back home—“
“No.”
“What?” John blustered.
“I told you before. Sam is mine now. I’m taking care of him. He’s my responsibility, not yours.”
“Legally—“
Dean laughed. “Since when have you ever cared about what was legal? When you were dragging us from school to school, forging student records? Committing credit card fraud? Petty theft? Or when you were torturing and killing that kid?”
Silence on the other end of the line. Not even breathing.
“I always took care of Sam because you couldn’t. Or wouldn’t. You had better things to do. And yeah, for a long time, I bought into that. Thought you had good reasons. But no matter which way you cut it, when it came to how you were with Sam, you failed.”
The noise John made sounded like a muffled sob.
“I raised him. I loved him. I took care of him. Sam is mine. Period. End of discussion.” Sam raised his head and stared at Dean, the love and admiration and disbelief radiating off him like heat lines off asphalt in summer.
“So if you want to help Sam, please. By all means. Help Sam. But you don’t get to order him around anymore, or me. And where you are isn’t home.”
Sam’s jaw dropped open.
“So. Do you actually want to help Sam?”
“Of course I do. I—“
“Then get with your freaky book dude, and all your connections, and you find out what the hell this demon thing wants with Sam, and how we can get it off Sam’s back.”
“Dean—“
“Is Reggie there?”
“No. No, he’s out hunting for you to bring you back.”
Dean laughed. “Of course he is. Well, you can call and tell him we’re not coming back.”
“How are you going to get by? You need food and shelter and—“
“We’re covered. I took care of it.”
“How the hell—“
“I told you. I can take care of Sam.”
John’s voice was low, pleading. “Son. I’m scared. I’m scared for you both.”
That pulled Dean up short. He held the phone receiver hard enough to drive all the blood from his knuckles.
“I love you. I love both of you. So much. And I’m sorry. Christ, Dean, I’m so sorry…”
Dean’s jaw clenched.
“You have to let me help. Please don’t… don’t shut me out. Let me make amends.”
“You want to make amends? Find out what that demon wants with Sam, and how we can stop him. Do that… and… and we’ll see.”
“I will. Dean. I promise.”
“We’ll call again in a few days.”
“Please. Dean. Don’t—“
“Goodbye, Dad.”
Dean hung up the phone.
Sam gripped his knees, trying to hold it together. He stared up at him, fear in his eyes. “Dean?”
“It’s ok, Sammy. Nothing’s gonna hurt you, or take you away from me.” Dean held Sam tight, so tight it hurt, but Sam didn’t feel a single twinge of pain. He just held onto Dean like the only thing that mattered. And Dean shielded Sam with his arms, and his love, and his dogged, stubborn determination that he was going to get Sam through this safely and out the other side. Somehow.
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Very nice chapter!
Date: 2013-03-19 10:30 pm (UTC)