Sure Got a Dirty Mouth Chapter 60: Blood Sugar Baby

[justinedelarge]

Title: Sure Got a Dirty Mouth Chapter 60: Blood Sugar Baby
Author: justinedelarge
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: R
Warning: Wincest
Word Count: 5100
Disclaimer: I don't own what I don't own. But I do own what I do own, such as my original characters and my plot.
Summary: Sam takes care of Dean some more. Reggie stops in for a chat, and a few revelations are made. John visits an old friend.

Sam didn’t ask Dean if he wanted tea. He just got up from the couch, hand brushing across Dean’s shoulder as he rose, and put the kettle on. Dean leaned back on the couch, putting his feet up on the coffee table, and lightly touched the bandage on his chin.

“Don’t mess up my stitches.” Sam pulled a box of Lipton tea bags out of the cupboard and a jar of unpasteurized honey he’d picked out at the grocery store.

“Wanna see.”

“Can you wait until I get fresh bandages from Juliane at least?”

Dean nodded and slumped back on the couch, watching the History Channel, or as he liked to call it, the War Channel.

Sam brought over a tray with two mugs of tea, a spoon and the jar of honey. He stirred a rounded spoonful of honey into Dean's mug. “I know you don’t like too much honey but it’s really good for you.”

Dean took it gratefully and held the mug in both hands, enjoying the warmth of it on his fingers, but he didn’t drink it right away.

“Go ahead. I put in a couple of ice cubes so it’s not so hot.”

Dean made a sort of wobble with his head, effectively communicating he was impressed with Sam’s thoughtfulness without saying it in words. He brought the mug to his mouth, wincing as the warm ceramic touched his mouth. Sam sprang to his feet. “Shit. I’m sorry.” He bounded into the kitchen and came back with a straw.

Dean stuck it into his tea and took a sip. “Mmmm.” The warm liquid was soothing on the scrapes inside his mouth and on his tongue from where he bit it while being hit. It was immensely soothing to his throat, easing the scratchiness and dryness from breathing through his mouth all night due to his nose being swollen.

“Better?” Sam stared at him hopefully.

“Yeah.”

Sam smiled, relief easing the tension on his face a little, but not eliminating it entirely.

It still hurt to talk, despite the pain medicine now active in his bloodstream. So he used his eyes to ask the question on his mind. Sammy? What’s wrong?

They knew how to read each other’s faces so perfectly, they could have entire conversations without speaking a single word.

“Nothing.”

Dean frowned slightly.

Sam sighed. “You’re right. I just finished saying no secrets. It’s just…I hate seeing you hurt. Especially when…I mean…” Sam pushed his hair out of his eyes. “Dean, why didn’t they do anything to me?”

A shrug. I don’t know, Sammy. Does it matter?

“I think…I think that’s important, Dean.”

Dean gave a tilt of his head. You remember what the demon said?

“I know, I know, Sam Winchester is not to be touched.” Sam’s cheeks grew more pale. He didn’t like remembering that, let alone saying it. Because of the fear of not knowing why one of the most powerful demons in existence had issued a protective order on his behalf. “But the demon…it let them hurt you.” He didn’t dare speak the thought that followed. Maybe even wanted them to hurt you. “Why would it do that?”

Dean took Sam’s hand. “Evil.” This, he said out loud.

Sam dropped his head. He couldn’t put into words what had been roiling in his head since it happened. While it happened. The strong sense that it had been entirely, brutally deliberate. The sensation that someone—something—nearby but unseen was delighted to see it happen. Someone watching. Gloating. Someone who thought the sight of a bloodied Dean on his back, of Sam beating a man’s face to a slick, broken mass of flesh, was…(beautiful) somehow according to plan.

Dean tugged on Sam’s hand, prodding him to look up at him. “Evil,” he said again, and shrugged. Evil doesn’t need a reason.

Sam swallowed and nodded. “You’re right. I’ll stop trying to psychoanalyze demonic motivations.”

Dean smiled—and winced as the movement pulled at his split lip. Sam shook his head, clearing his mind of the troublesome thoughts, and scooped up a bit of honey onto his fingertip. “Hold still.” He dabbed the honey along the cut on Dean’s lip, touching him so lightly that he didn’t feel a twinge of pain. Again, Dean felt a surge of gratitude and amazement at how tender Sam was with him.

Sam smeared the rest of it over Dean’s mouth. “Don’t lick it off, ok?”

Dean gave him a look.  This is me you’re talking about.

“I know. You can’t keep from licking your lips anyway.” It drove Sam mad. Had for years. The way Dean’s tongue just swiped across his lower lip a hundred times a day. Not fast and nervous, but sensual, and sometimes so slow Sam swore it had been deliberate, the way Dean looked at him, at his mouth, his hands, his bare stomach, and dragged his tongue oh-so slowly across his lip. Sam had wanted to kiss and lick and nip the teasing expression right off his face.

And Sam was right. Sometimes it was deliberate. But sometimes it was just Dean’s unconscious habit.

“I know you can’t hold out for long. But try, ok? At least don’t lick the cut.”

Dean nodded. I’ll try, Sammy. For you.

Sam looked at Dean’s mouth, glistening with honey.

Sam loved honey.

He exhaled, a little snort of breath. Dean ghosted his fingertips over Sam’s lips. I know, sweetheart. I want to kiss you too.

Sam blinked rapidly. He had such a thing for Dean’s mouth. And they both knew it. And now it was off-limits, swollen, cut and abraded.

Dean whispered, “Soon.” Sam looked at the floor, nodding quickly, trying not to let his (selfish) disappointment at not being able to kiss Dean show on his face. Dean took Sam’s hand and pulled him to his feet, brought him to the wall and pushed him gently against it. “Shhh…” Dean whispered. He leaned close, eyes taking in every flicker of emotion on Sam’s face. Again, he brushed his fingertips over Sam’s lips. He moved in, like he was going to kiss Sam, his mouth so close to Sam’s they could each feel the warmth of the other’s parted lips. But he did not close the distance. Instead, he stroked his fingers across Sam’s cheek.

He pulled back, watching Sam’s face. Then he did it again, moving his mouth so close it almost touched Sam’s, and ghosted his fingers across Sam’s face.

Sam got it. His eyes went wide.

Dean did it once more, bringing his mouth as close as he could get without making contact that would cause pain, transmitting the soft fluttery sensation of his lips touching Sam’s with the soft stroke of his fingertips.

Sam gasped, tipped his head back against the wall, let Dean kiss him and kiss him and kiss him again, the only way he was able.

~

The phone rang. It was Reggie, calling from his apartment. “You boys ready to talk?”

“Yeah. Come on over.” Sam hung up the phone. “Reggie.” Dean nodded, and settled back down carefully on the couch. He shrugged his shoulders and rolled his head in circles. Sam took note. Almost immediately, there was a knock on the door.

Sam let Reggie in. Without asking, he gave Sam a hug. A long one. Sam was startled, but relaxed into it, hugging him back hard. Reggie pulled back and thumped Sam’s shoulder, looking over at Dean. “How’s your guy?”

Sam and Dean’s eyes went wide. Reggie hadn’t said Dean, or your brother.

Reggie rolled his eyes. “I told you it was ok.” He walked over to Dean and sat down. “Funny thing how the second day of an ass-whupping hurts a hell of a lot more than the first.”

Dean laughed, nodding.

“He takin’ good care of you?”

Dean’s eyes softened. “The best,” he said softly.

Reggie turned his attention to Sam. “And you. How are you?” His eyes searched Sam’s face for signs of emotional trauma. Clearly he saw or sensed something, because he looked at Dean.

“He’s better.”

“I’m a lot better now,” Sam said in a cheerful tone of voice, clearly not wanting to talk about his own issues at the moment. “You want some coffee or tea or something? There’s some leftover scrambled eggs too.”

“Coffee and eggs sounds great.” Reggie shot Dean a look. Dean mouthed the word “Later.”

Sam heated up a cup of black coffee, still fresh but cold now and reheated the eggs that remained in the pan. Reggie checked Dean over. “What’s that on your mouth?” Dean pointed toward the honey with a glance at Sam as if to say Sam made me do it. Reggie’s thick eyebrows went up. “Real smart, Sam.” He leaned in toward Dean and rumbled, “Those cuts are gonna heal up a lot faster.”

Sam pursed his lips and looked at Dean. Dean was not the only one who could say things without words, and Sam’s expression clearly said I told you so.

Sam brought Reggie his plate of eggs and coffee. Reggie inhaled the eggs in a few quick bites, and nodded appreciatively at the strong coffee. “Guess you boys went food shopping.”

Sam stared at the floor like Reggie had just smacked his nose with a rolled-up newspaper.

“I’m not giving you grief. But I’ll take care of the grocery shopping from here on out. Ok?”

They both nodded.

“How are you fixed for money?”

Sam and Dean looked at each other. Sam’s brows furrowed almost imperceptibly. Dean took a deep breath and blew it out. He looked at Reggie, then closed his eyes and nodded.

Sam spoke. “There was this creep who tried to pick us both up…” Sam laid out the whole story. Reggie scowled as Sam described how the old man propositioned them to come back to his house and make a porno, but the scowl disappeared at the tale of how Dean stole his leather satchel. His eyes widened as Sam described the huge bag filled with cocaine they found inside, and the stacks of money. He nodded his approval when Sam said they’d flushed the coke down the toilet and burned up the empty baggie, wallet and leather satchel to leave no evidence behind.

Reggie pulled out a toothpick and chewed on it. “He sounds like he wasn’t exactly a fine upstanding citizen.” He fixed them both with a stern look. “I’m not saying it’s ok to steal from people. Because it’s not.” He gnawed on the toothpick. “But that one…sounds like it ain’t so bad.”  He cocked his head at Dean. “So…how much you get?”

Dean gave a small smile, careful not to pull his split lip open again, and held up both hands.

“Ten…ten grand?”

Dean nodded, eyebrows raised. Reggie looked to Sam for corroboration. “Close to 11, actually.”

Reggie shook his head. “Hell. Wish I’d rolled that fucker myself.” He winked at Sam. “I’ll teach you two how to cheat at poker if you keep me fed.”

“Deal,” Dean said. Words without consonants that required him to purse his lips together were easier to say without pain.

Reggie sat back in his chair. “Now. Can I see your knives?”

Sam pulled his knife out from the sheath on his hip, as did Dean. Reggie laid them on the table, Sam’s on the right, Dean’s on the left.

He examined them carefully.

“That binding ritual? What exactly did you do?”

Sam stared at Dean, eyes wide.

Reggie read the look that passed between them.

“Ah.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to have to ask about your personal business. But it’s important. So…sex magic?”

Dean frowned at the word magic.

Reggie grinned. “Son, the things you’ve seen and heard of, and you don’t believe in magic?”

Dean went to chew on his lower lip and stopped himself.

Sam spoke up.“It’s not that. We know about that stuff. Well, we know OF it. But…”

“It’s the word. Magic. Makes you think of people in robes leaping around a bonfire calling the quarters.”

Dean nodded.

“I can see that. But magic… That force, that type of energy, whatever it is, it exists. No matter what you want to call it. And I agree, there should be a better word. One that’s not so damn Dungeons and Dragons. But it’s what makes talismans and wards and all kinds of things work.”

“Like the knives?”

“I was coming to that.” Reggie picked up Sam’s knife, turned it in front of him, thumb running along the edge. “Someone very skilled taught me how to make knives that were more than just blades. It’s hit or miss, you know.” He glanced at Dean. “Sometimes I just make a real pretty blade. I try real hard to…pour more into it. But it doesn’t always work. Hell, it usually doesn’t work, if I’m being honest.”

He set Sam’s knife down to the left of Dean’s knife.

“These knives were special. Made for two specific people, as a matched pair.” Reggie looked past Dean, at the blank white wall behind him. “Just like they were. A matched pair. Soulmates.”

“You said. You said they were killed before you could give it to them.” Sam’s voice was soft.

“That was only half true.” Reggie turned his piercing blue eyes toward Sam. “One of them died. My partner. Nathan.”

“Your partner,” Dean said. He looked at Sam, then back up at Reggie. “Wait. Your partner? You’re…”

“Son,” Reggie drawled, “once you get over the age of 30, referring to someone as your boyfriend gets a little weird.”

Dean stared at Sam, then at Reggie again.

“What’r you looking so surprised about? You really didn’t know? All this time, I figured you had me pegged for a man’s man.” Reggie gave Dean an amused look.

Sam cocked his head. “I knew that, actually. But I don’t know how. No one told us.” Sam and Dean fell silent, thinking hard. Bobby and John had never said a word about it. Out of all the stories they’d ever heard about the legendary Reggie Beaumont, none had ever included a single detail about his romantic inclinations. The most legendary living hunter in America. A lethal shot with an eagle eye, skilled knife-maker, dogged and determined, smart as hell, possessed of uncommon bravery. Had a partner he hunted with until he got killed. But not a word about his sexual orientation being other than the standard heterosexual.

Dean stared at Reggie with even more admiration than he’d ever shown before.

“Anyway. I made these knives for me and Nathan.” Reggie paused, struggling to maintain composure. “After he was killed, I put these knives away. I couldn’t get rid of them, and couldn’t just pass them on to anyone.” His eyes met Sam’s. “But then I heard about John Winchester’s sons. His youngest, beat to hell and tied up, tapping out a signal in Morse code so’s his family could find him. Who stood up to days of torture without once begging for mercy.”

Sam looked embarrassed but proud. Dean looked at Sam with that mix of genuine awe and love so sharp it brought tears to his eyes.

“And his badass big brother, who killed all but one of those that took him, single-handedly, and rescued him.” Reggie’s blue eyes were now fixed on Dean, spearing him like they were looking into his soul. “When I heard that, I knew who these knives belonged to.” He stroked the blade of Dean’s knife. “I didn’t know ‘till I met you in person how right I was.” He took the toothpick out of his mouth. “I saw that you were soulmates the second I saw you together. Just like how I knew Nathan was mine the first time I saw him.”

He sat back again. “Go on. Take ‘em.” He indicated toward the knives. Sam reached for the knife on the left and Dean for the one on the right, and they put them back in their sheathes. Reggie’s mouth twitched. “I switched them. How’d you know which one was yours?”

Sam started to speak. “Easy. You can just tell which one is…” He fell silent.

“They’re identical. So how’d you know?”

“I just did.”

Reggie nodded. “That binding ritual. It was a good one. Each knife is bonded to one of you, not just to each other and you two as a pair. But…” He paused. “I’m sorry to ask. But was there something special about that ritual, with the two of you? Something more than what you usually…”

Dean blushed. He blushed as red as Sammy, whose cheeks also flared crimson. “Our first time. Um…”

Sam took a deep breath, as if to steel himself, looked at Reggie to reassure himself it was ok, and then the words poured out of him, as if the freedom to talk about this sort of thing with a respected authority figure, knowing there was no risk of judgment, was intoxicating. “We’d done other stuff, but we’d never gone all the way. I mean, Dean had, you know, with girls…” The subtle layer of hiss on the word girls was not missed by Dean or Reggie. “But I’d never done anything, at all, with guys or girls, and he’d never been… you know… never had a guy, um, you know, and he’d never done that to a guy—“ Suddenly Sam froze. His eyes searched Dean’s face. “Right?” His voice was soft, questioning.

Dean reached out for Sam’s hand. “Never.”

Sam swallowed hard, afraid to ask.

“Any of it. Just you.”

Sam’s eyes fluttered shut, trying to hold in the relief that washed through him. Dean pulled him down on the couch next to him. “Only ever been you, Sammy,” he forced out through his stiff jaw. He put his arm around Sam. Sam relaxed immediately, like he did whenever he was in physical contact with Dean.

Reggie coughed. “So you were both virgins.”

Dean frowned at Reggie, his pride rebelling at that word being applied to him.

“With men,” Reggie clarified. “In that particular way.”

Dean nodded, appreciating that Reggie was decorous enough to not name that way out loud and make Dean blush even harder.

“And the ritual you came up with?”

“We cut each other.” Sam drew an imaginary line down his chest with his fingers. “So it bled. And we wiped the blood off each other with our knives. So the blood mixed, like you said.”

“Blood mingling with virgin sex magic. Between soulmates. ” Reggie whistled. “It’s no wonder.”

“What?” Dean asked.

“When I made these knives, I wasn’t even sure what I was doing, other than making us a matched set with wards against evil, and symbols that could trigger demons into exposing what they were. But while I made them, I couldn’t stop thinking of Nathan. I just had that feeling in my chest, you know. That bright feeling when you love someone so much, it feels like it’s lighting you up from inside?” He looked at Sam and Dean. “I know you know that feeling.”

Sam smiled, shy but proud, and squeezed Dean’s hand.

“While I was making them, I just had that…that light in me, the whole time. Every step of the process.” Reggie rubbed his mouth. “I tried to put all of that love into the knives. I don’t even know why. It just felt like…what the knives wanted.”

Sam and Dean looked at each other, both thinking of when they’d carved their initials into each other’s flesh, and Sam had smeared his own blood over Dean’s blood on his blade, and Dean had done the same, following his lead.

“What made you think to do that?”

“I don’t know. It just… seemed like that’s what the knife wanted.”

Sam told Reggie about it, the second time they had done a blood ritual with the knives. And how the blood had warmed beneath their fingers, the mingled blood absorbing into the blades. Like that’s what the knives wanted.

Reggie ran his hands through his hair. “Whoa. You two…that’s a powerful connection you have. Maybe…”

“What?” Dean asked.

Reggie shook his head.

“Tell us.” Dean insisted.

“Maybe it’s because you’re brothers as well as lovers. Maybe that’s the key. That kind of pure love, that bond…it’s as close to being one flesh, one heart as humanly possible.”

Sam and Dean sat with that for a moment, blown away by the implications of what Reggie had said. That their being brothers was not something wrong and disgusting, but made their love somehow more pure, more profound.

Finally, Dean spoke. “My knife. It did something to the demon.” They all remembered. The demon writhing in agony from a relatively harmless slash on his thigh. That’s horrible. What is that? Then the demon itself rising into the air, leaving its stolen vessel.

“Demons don’t understand love. They hate it. It reminds them of the human they used to be, before they were twisted and turned. They can’t bear the sight of love.” Reggie took a deep breath. “Those knives were built with a real special love, all the way through them, part of their actual structure. And you two, your shared blood, the living essence of the love you have for each other…the knives absorbed it. I think when you cut that demon, that blood got inside it. And it couldn’t stand it. It was like poison.”

Sam took his knife out of the sheath and stared at it. “So…you’re saying we have knives that can poison demons? Exorcise them?”

Reggie nodded his head, a smile spreading across his face. “Son, I believe you do.”

They sat in silence for a long time, taking this in.

Dean broke the silence. “Awesome.”

~

Reggie filled them about how glad Bobby was that Reggie had finally found them, how he had explained he was not going to bring Sam and Dean back, and how, after balking initially, Bobby had backed down when Reggie had stood up for them. Sam looked relieved. Dean looked at Reggie like he was the second coming.

Reggie then told them how John had taken off on a solid lead that promised to help them figure out what Azazel’s interest in Sam was, and how to stop him. Sam and Dean looked like a weight the size of the Empire State had been lifted off their shoulders. Dean couldn’t keep his hand off the handle of his knife, and his green eyes were bright with hope, the first hope he’d felt in ages. Bobby not insisting on dragging them out of there, John off finding some solid answers, both of these things were a huge relief. But the biggest relief of all was what Reggie had said about their knives. Knowing they had such powerful weapons at hand, weapons that could keep Sam safe from demons… no painkiller was as powerful as that knowledge.

“Hey, do you think these knives would work against Azazel?” Sam’s cheeks were flushed pink like he’d been drinking, but it was just elation that colored his face.

Reggie’s brow furrowed. “That I can’t say for sure. The really high-level demons, things like holy water and salt don’t work on them.”

The worry crept back onto their faces. Reggie held his hands up, palms out. “Hey. You’re damn well safe here. I got the nickel tour. They got things built into this place that Lucifer himself couldn’t get past.” He took the last sip of his coffee, long gone cold but still good. “I don’t know if your knives would exorcise him. But I’d bet good money he wouldn’t like it one bit. And if it had that effect on one demon, they should work on any lesser demons that you should find yourself up against.” He glanced at Dean. “Probably a good idea to try and  recharge them, I guess.”

Dean tried to keep his expression impassive, and not let the little smile that wanted to curl up at the corners of his mouth come out. He wasn’t one for crazy things like blood kink, but marking Sam like that, a call and response where the call was sharp steel and the response was sung in blood, was surprisingly intoxicating.

“Reggie…um, can I ask… how did Nathan die?”

Reggie was quiet. “Yes. You can ask.” He remained silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts.

“Was it on a hunt?” Dean asked, not feeling much pain at all, high from the pills and the sheer joy that maybe that gleam he saw was the light at the end of the tunnel.

“No. It wasn’t anything supernatural that killed him.” Reggie took a breath. “If I’m gonna tell this story, I need liquor. And lots of it.”

Sam went to the kitchen and opened the cabinet they’d designated the liquor cabinet. “Take your pick.” Reggie chose the top-shelf bourbon. Sam handed him a tumbler. “Get two more,” Reggie rumbled. “You might need a shot.” Sam filled a bowl with ice cubes.

They sat back down, Sam and Dean on the couch and Reggie in the chair opposite.  Reggie dropped a cube of ice in his glass and poured bourbon over it until it nearly filled the glass.

Dean glanced at the level in his glass but said nothing.

Reggie took a long sip. “Nice.” His voice was a low purr. “I knew I liked you two for a reason. Damn fine taste in whiskey.”

“We got that from Bobby.”

“Good man.”Reggie took another deep breath, and then a deep drink of whiskey, downing half the contents. He glanced at Dean. “I don’t talk about this. Ever. It’s not…easy for me.”

Sam leaned forward, brushing his hair back with both hands. “Hey, you don’t have to. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Reggie held up his hand. “It’s alright. You two really should know.” He sat up straight. “We met on a hunt. Wendigo. Nasty fucker. We teamed up to take it out. I knew some people he’d worked with. Vouched for him. Turns out he was a damn fine hunter. Fearless. Better shot than me. Patient as all get out. And calm. Didn’t get worked up. By the time we tracked it down and burned the beast, we were… I knew the moment I saw him. Took him a little longer to warm up to my ugly mug.”

Dean and Sam exchanged a disbelieving glance. Reggie was ruggedly handsome by anyone’s estimation.

“He said it took him five minutes to realize I was it for him.” Reggie smiled. “Anyway, that was that. We were together, from that moment on. For the next ten years.” Reggie finished the whiskey in his glass and refilled it halfway. He put a splash in Dean’s glass. “You’re on pain pills, so you only get a taste.”  He gave Sam a generous shot and pushed the glasses towards them.

Reggie stared at his glass, watching tiny bubbles released from being trapped in the melting ice falling into line around the rim of the largest ice cube. “We hunted together. We lived together. Nobody asked any questions. Not in the hunter community. Cheaper to share one motel room. Right? Sure, we got some looks from some motel clerks, but not often. We were both…you know… dudes.”

Sam and Dean laughed. Sam said, “Yeah, you’re kind of the Marlboro Man with a salt gun.”

“Anyway, we didn’t usually have to worry about that sort of thing. We just kept each other safe from the ghoulies and ghosties. But we forgot the first rule.” Reggie swirled his glass, causing the ice cubes to clink against the sides of the tumbler. “Some monsters are human.”

He took another drink, lips curling back at the burn of the whiskey in his mouth. “It was summer. We took a few days off to see a rodeo, hear some live music at the county fair. It was a warm night, we had some beers in us, we were feeling pretty happy. So we got a little affectionate. In public.”

Sam picked up his glass, sensing where this was going, and took a drink.

“Nothing much. Just slow danced together a little. And I kissed him.” Reggie closed his eyes against the memory. “Some good ol’ boys saw us. And they didn’t like it one bit.” Reggie looked up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly. “They followed us to the parking lot and jumped us. We fought like hell, and got in some good licks, but there was five of them. Five pissed off rednecks with sticks and pipes.”

“Jesus,” Dean whispered. Sam was absolutely pale, trembling.

“They called us faggots and queers, and beat the shit out of us. ‘Cause we were dancing and I kissed him.”

Dean took Sam’s hand. It was shaking.

“Someone finally saw, and people came running. I, uh, crawled to Nathan. At least I got to hold him when he…” Reggie took another drink.

“When…he died?” Sam’s voice was hushed, horrified.

“In my arms.” Looking up at him, blood streaming from a wound on his head, somehow smiling at him, whispering love you baby…Reggie squeezed his eyes shut, but the traitorous tears snuck out underneath and escaped down his cheeks in parallel trails.

Suddenly Sam was on his knees at Reggie’s side, burrowing into his arms like an insistent puppy. Reggie’s eyes flew open. Dean sat on the couch, a gleaming trail of spilled tears on his face as well. Sam just nuzzled his head into Reggie’s chest and held on tight. Reggie put his arms around Sam, powerless against Sam Winchester’s intent to hug him. He bowed his head, and let himself cry, for the first time since he’d cried himself dry and vowed to never let himself feel anything that intense again.

~

John Winchester pulled the car into the driveway, got out, and stretched, canting his hips forward to ease the stiffness in his lower back from driving nonstop from Sioux Falls. He approached the door and went to knock, when the door opened.

Missouri Mosely stood before him, sixteen years older and more than a few pounds heavier than the last time he’d seen her, but still recognizable. She stared at John in surprise.

“What, you didn’t expect to see me again?” John shifted from one foot to the other, rubbing his hand unconsciously over his beard.

“Oh, honey, I knew you’d be coming, digging around for more answers. It’s just you’re…oh, six years earlier than I expected.”

Comments

[masja-17.livejournal.com]

This was intense. I'm so sorry for Reggie and Nathan. But Reggie is awesome! And yes, seven years early!!!

<3

[justinedelarge.livejournal.com]

Glad, as always, that you liked it! Thanks for saying so.

[deansdirtybb.livejournal.com]

Great Chapter! And I feel like I say that every time, but, well, they really are great. This story just keeps getting better and better, and I'm just so grateful that you continue to share it with us!

Sam using honey on Dean's lip...the reminder that Sam has such a thing for Dean's mouth (I totally sympathize, Sammy), and his absolute *need* to kiss Dean - killer. Dean finding a way to "kiss" him was just such a beautiful piece of their amazing love showing through.

Poor Reggie! Ugh - it was absolutely heart-breaking, because, unfortunately that kind of hate and violence is all too real. I absolutely adored the image of a puppy-like Sammy pushing his way in and Reggie being "powerless against Sam Winchester’s intent to hug him." It was just *so* Sam-like. And I still absolutely, completely and totally love that Reggie keeps reassuring them in so many ways that their love is ok, is good. And you just about had me in tears when he talked about their love being even more pure because they are brothers. *happy sigh*

Thank you so much...and I think I have taken up quite enough of your page with my rambling. Hugs!

[justinedelarge.livejournal.com]

Thank you for commenting on the honey thing, and how Dean figured out how he could kiss Sam.

And all the comments. I love this. Never apologize for it, and by all means, keep going! This is how a fanfic writer gets paid.

[imaginecoolname.livejournal.com]

Oh, yet again you blew me away with this chapter, it was wonderful!

Dean's way of kissing Sam was beautiful, the way you write their love is always so palpable and stunning. I also loved the conversation about them being soulmates, how their love is even purer because of their brotherhood.

Reggie is such a fantastic character, and his support of the boys so heartwarming. His story about Nathan broke my heart, but I'm glad we (and the boys) got to hear it.

Sam seems to be on the right track concerning the demons' motivations, I really hope they'll get to know more soon. It drives me crazy that they have no idea what's going on and can't prepare themselves for it. Hopefully Missouri will be able to help out.

Thank you for this amazing chapter. ♥

[ayden-brooks.livejournal.com]

Loved it! I cannot get enough of Reggie. I'm so glad the boys have someone they can trust besides each other. And the way they take care of each other and communicate without words? Beautiful. Great chapter.

[justinedelarge.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I love Reggie too. A lot.

[rianadrarrylove.livejournal.com]

God, this was so beautiful! I feel like I'm repeating the same things to you over and over, but it's literally like a new level of intensity and obvious love and emotion are reached with each new development, each new sex scene, each new disaster.

You're so talented, and I'm constantly awed by every single word you use, every nuance, every italic. It's simply stunning.

The amount of gritty reality and beautiful, pure love you've woven into an almost-believable Supernatural world here just blows my mind and I just hope you know how much I (and obviously many others) adore this.

[sandycub.livejournal.com]

Such a powerful chapter! I really love Sam taking care of Dean (and Dean letting him)!! They are so sweet and so tender together! I really love Reggie! He is so great as a character all on his own and he is so great with the boys! I really loved his detailed explanation of the knives and their history! I also really liked how he added that he thought it made the boys bond, with each other and with regard to the knives, is actually more profound due to the fact that they are brothers as well as lovers! Reggie sharing his story about Nathan was so heartbreaking and so moving! Of course Sam wanted to hug him - who wouldn't?? Anxious to see what happens in the next chapter when Bobby shows up! Not sure what kind of reception he is going to get from Sam and Dean. Plus finding out that Bobby knows about them - although I think some things will click in to place finding that out, like the deadbolt and the loveseat. This is such an amazing story that just keeps getting better every chapter!

[justinedelarge.livejournal.com]

Oh yes. The deadbolt and the love seat. I cannot WAIT for the chapter where they find out that Bobby has known, and was responsible.

It may lead to tears of relief and joy. I sure make Sam and Dean cry a lot. :)

[dimeliora.livejournal.com]

Poor, awesome, heartbreaking, goddamn Reggie.

[deezy-y.livejournal.com]

Oh my, I think I've sprung a leak...poor Reggie. Humans can be monsters way too often.

When Sam went to Reggie crying and offering comfort; it struck me again how giving and decent Sam is and how weird it is that Azazel wants him as one of his chosen. I guess that's part of the lure, being able to turn someone so giving and loving into an evil pawn.

Glad that Missouri has made an appearance. I'm curious what she has to say and how John will react. Seven years too early...definitely piquing my interest.

Another amazing chapter!

[justinedelarge.livejournal.com]

That's the whole allure: taking the most pure of the special children and corrupting him. And thank you!

[alexisjane.livejournal.com]

Oh such a great chapter. That last line made me whoop though!
I'm having such a good time reading this, I'm really hoping it was just as fun to write : ) x

[justinedelarge.livejournal.com]

It's a blast to write. A surprising amount of work, since I do so much research for it, but I love it. And thank you!