09: The Unseen World
Fandom: Supernatural
Category/Rated: NC-17 for M/M sex
Year/Length: 2008/~9133 words
Pairing: Sam and Dean
Disclaimer: No profit was made off this. The characters belong the originators of Supernatural. Was all in pure fun.
Warning: Wincest
Summary: There was a curtain of beads hanging up in the doorway, which was propped open, and the scent of sage, heady and acrid, seeped from the room as Sam knocked on the door frame. The man that came to the door in answer was not what Sam had expected any more than his voice had been. He was middle aged and thick set, dressed in tatty jeans and a greasy wife beater, and his hands were covered in oil. He'd got smudges of the stuff on his face too, and his clothes were covered in grease-spots. Sam was about to say something, when the newcomer saw the Impala.
Series: The Virtual Slash Season
The trip south had gone smoothly after their blowout in Colorado, and they'd crossed over into Arizona around lunchtime. The little town of Fredonia seemed like a good place to stop, and the motel they'd chosen was one of the better ones they'd stayed in recently. Sam was twitchy, constantly feeling the contact information Bobby had given him for the shaman as if it would burn a hole in his pocket. Dumping their stuff in the room, they headed out in search of some lunch.
There was a diner behind the motel, and they were shortly sitting down to eat plates of roast beef and vegetables, while they decided what their itinerary would be. Sam was itching to call the shaman and set up an appointment, but he wasn't at all sure how he was going to tell Dean what his intentions were, so partway through their lunch he excused himself and headed back to the restroom.
Once he was safely away from Dean, he pulled the number he'd been given by Bobby and dialed, wondering what he should expect.
"Hello?" The voice sounded a little impatient, and Sam blinked. He had no idea what a shaman should sound like, but whatever, this wasn't it.
"I... er... Bobby Singer gave me your number. My name is Sam Winchester and..." He got no farther. The voice interrupted him.
"Yeah. Bobby called. Been expecting you. You took your time. Was expecting you last week." There was still impatience there in the voice, but he sounded warmer now. "When are you coming?"
"As soon as you like," replied Sam, thinking that the shaman sounded like Dean at times. "When's good for you?"
"Now is all the time you got. Better use it well."
Well, that was a little more shaman-like, thought Sam. He nodded, then hastily said, "I'll have to bring my brother."
"Bring him. He's got his own business here."
The line went dead, and Sam stood, open mouthed, astonished, his questions still unasked. Shrugging, he dropped his phone back into his pocket and went back to finish his lunch.
While Sam was making his call, Dean had finished his entree and was now eating a slice of pie. He had been looking out the window, thinking of all the times they had been in this area and not once stopped to see the Grand Canyon. The thought was just one of many chasing through his head as the day for his life to end drew closer. He was thinking he might try to contact his mom, and in fact he’d been thinking of it on and off since that time in Lawrence, when she’d appeared to save them. She’d only said his name and little more to Sam, and Dean desperately wanted to know why she’d said she was sorry. He needed to know why she’d pretty much ignored him.
He wanted answers before he died.
Returning to the table to finish his meal, Sam gave Dean an encouraging smile. "Tomorrow, we go look at the big hole in the ground, right?" he said. "For now, you fancy going out to the reserve? Might be interesting. Bobby told me there was a real live shaman out there, and maybe it'd be good to go see what he knows about demon slaying." He went back to eating, finishing his plateful swiftly. "Or we could do something else. I've got the newspaper right here, if you want to look for a job."
Dean lifted his head, shocked for the moment. "A shaman? Really?" Was Sam reading his mind? "Okay we can go out to the reservation. Why not? Bobby says he knows a shaman, maybe he’ll tell us something about Bobby. Wouldn’t that be cool? That dude has a lot of secrets." Dean tried not to show his eagerness to go, but inside he was bouncing. He pushed his empty pie plate away. "Okay, well finish up and let’s roll," he said, chugging the rest of his beer.
Well, that was easy, thought Sam, beckoning the waitress for the check. "I think I couldn't eat another thing. You sure you're done?" There was something about Dean today. His eyes were sparkling, and he'd dropped the lethargy that had been hanging over him since... since he'd given away his soul. Happy to see it, Sam didn't ask Dean why; he just took what he was given and thanked God and all his angels for it. "Let's go, unless you need more pie."
"Nope, I'm good." Dean paid the check and got up, heading out with Sam behind him. The black Impala was soon purring along away from the town and out toward the reservation. Dean watched the scenery as he drove along. He glanced over to Sam as they reached the reservation, wondering if he’d got an address for this shaman. Pulling up when Sam told him to stop, he felt his heart sink. "Here?" He looked at the rundown building. "You sure? I don't even think rats would live here." He got out of the car and followed Sam up to the door.
There was a curtain of beads hanging up in the doorway, which was propped open, and the scent of sage, heady and acrid, seeped from the room as Sam knocked on the door frame. The man that came to the door in answer was not what Sam had expected any more than his voice had been. He was middle aged and thick set, dressed in tatty jeans and a greasy wife beater, and his hands were covered in oil. He'd got smudges of the stuff on his face too, and his clothes were covered in grease-spots. Sam was about to say something, when the newcomer saw the Impala.
"Hey, will you look at that! That's a beauty, that is. Yours?" he asked Sam.
"His." Sam indicated Dean and smiled. Dean would like the man. Anyone who praised his baby was all right with Dean.
"Yeah, she's mine. I rebuilt her recently from near scratch." Dean was beaming as he looked back at his car then gave his full attention to the guy. "Um, you Black Feather? We're friends of Bobby Singer." Dean motioned between him and Sam. "I'm Dean and this is my brother Sam."
"Yup. I'm Black Feather. Bobby tells me you guys are interested in a spirit journey, that so?" The man looked between the two of them, and Sam started to wonder if Dean had his own agenda for coming out to meet the shaman.
"Is that like a vision-quest?" Sam frowned. This wasn't an area of expertise for him. "Yeah. Bobby told me it was something I needed to do."
Dean stared at the man and then back at Sam. How could he admit what he wanted in front of his brother? "You needed to do? What for?" Dean asked trying to play off the whole concept, even knowing that it was deep inside him screaming out the answer, ‘yes, I want it.’
"To find out if I came back wrong, dude. Don't tell me you don't want to know that!" Sam had had a long time to dream up that answer, knowing that it was a worry for his brother and trusting that his response would cloud the issue and keep Dean from putting two and two together before he had his answer about how he could save Dean from his demon pact. "We're messed up, and we need to get straight. Besides, if I did come back wrong, there might be a way to set me right."
Dean blinked at his brother and nodded. He made a face as if he’d accepted the answer as he walked into the hut, and Black Feather motioned them to sit down.
"We prefer spirit journey to vision-quest, because it's the journey of the spirit that provides your answers," said the Indian as he wiped his hands and sat down with them. "So which one of you goes first? I need to know, so I can get the preparations right."
"I take it we don't go together," murmured Sam, flashing a smile at his brother. "You wanna take the first slot, dude? I'm quite happy to wait for my chance at stardom." He met Dean's eyes, his smile fading. "To be honest, I'm kinda scared about what I might find out. I feel like me, but if I'm not a hundred percent Sammy, then I guess you need to know, and so do I."
Need to know was a drastic understatement. The question was something that scared Dean shitless. He looked back at the Indian, studied him and then gave a nod. "Sure, I'll give it a whirl." He was still trying to act as if it was something he’d spontaneously decided to do, hoping that neither of the others would notice that his insides were dancing. He just wanted to see his mom one last time. One last time before he was tortured in the fires of hell. That wasn’t too much to ask, was it? Sam, their father and the mother he still loved so dearly would be together in heaven, and that was what was important to him. He’d take one for the team, but he just wanted to see her again.
Black Feather tilted his head at Dean, nodded, and then looked over at Sam as he got to his feet. "You stay here," he ordered Sam, then turned back to his brother. "And you come with me." He walked through the kitchen and motioned for Dean to go into the hut in the back where he performed his ceremonies.
Dean looked back to Sam, gave a shrug then followed, looking around at the hut. He raised the flap to one side and made a face. It smelled of herbs, an acrid, pungent smell that made him want to cough. "You have got to be kidding," he grumbled as he stepped into the dark place.
Black Feather shook his head. "Definitely not kidding," he said, beckoning Dean into the center of the room. "So tell me, Dean, what is it you want to accomplish on this journey of your spirit?" As he was talking, he was building a fire in the fireplace in the center of the room, loading on wood from the stack of it in the corner and crouching down to kindle it. "Now, ordinarily I'd be getting my bearskins and wampum on, give you a good show, but you seem like you know the score, and you don't need smoke and mirrors to get it, so I'm going to tell you what you need to do and to know right here."
He sat down on the ground, cross-legged, and beckoned Dean to come sit beside him, then held out his hand, offering him a feather. "You'll need this," he murmured. "It'll help protect you if you need it. Something tells me that you will need it. I can see darkness pressing up to you and your brother. A little protection is always a good thing. If anything from the outer circle tries to stop you coming home, throw the feather and get back here on the double, you got that?"
Dean lowered himself down to sit cross-legged, mirroring the shaman. He cast a glance around the room they were in and then met the eyes of the other man as he was handed the feather.
"What do I want from this?" Dean wasn't used to sharing. In fact he hated telling people, even his brother, what was going on inside him. Hell Sam usually had to pull it out of him by yelling and arguing at him. He looked at the feather, turning it in his hand. "I know what I want," Dean mumbled, picturing his mom, although the feather reminded him of his father - dark and mysterious - a man Dean had thought he knew but was finding out he’d been mistaken.
He stared into the fire. "Darkness has been pressing against us since we were kids. It always will," he muttered. "Okay, so what next? I smoke some funky stuff? Drink something?" he asked, turning his head toward Black Feather.
"You sit beside the fire and breathe, and as you inhale the smoke, you will think of where you wish to walk, and the ones you want to meet." Black Feather leaned forward with a small cup. "This is firewater. Drink it and let your spirit walk freely." He held out the cup and gave Dean a smile. Then he turned to the fire which had begun to catch and was burning merrily. He threw some damp branches on it, and it began to smoke, and then he tossed on a handful of powder. The burnt sage scent from earlier swelled up around Dean, and the smoke rolled in, making him cough as it filled nose and eyes, acrid and stinging.
Dean couldn't help but cough. He took the cup with the firewater and drank it down, coughing again and making a face as he tried to concentrate on his mom and think of a more wonderful time in his life. He wanted so badly to be back in the home of the 'wish' that the genie had given him, where his mom was alive. He didn’t go there; he found himself at the crossroads where he had made his deal. It was dark. There was nothing but the moon to light the area he was in. He turned about, looking, waiting - for what he wasn't sure.
Hearing footsteps to his left, he turned his head without turning his body, fingers clutching the feather tightly.
The figure moved out of the darkness, and for a moment it was hard to tell who it was. It paused on the edge of blackness, and faintly, eyes glittered. When the figure finally stepped forward, close enough that Dean could see who it was, it caught its breath before speaking, and its voice was low and full of sadness.
"Dean? Dean, my son..."
Dean's face had hardened, expecting some demon to come at him and taunt him the way they seemed to enjoy so much. However the being who stepped out made Dean's face shift to shock and pain as he heard those two words he could swear he’d never ever heard from those lips. "Dad?" Dean turned fully, green eyes meeting icy blue.
It was John Winchester. It was the father that raised him to be the man he was today, standing there with tears rimming his eyes. This was the man who had broken his son.
Stepping forward, John reached for Dean, real, and solid and alive as he pulled him in for a hug. "Dean, you did what I couldn't do. You beat that... that thing! You killed it. I'm so proud of you."
Dean closed his eyes tightly, hugging his father and feeling his lashes get wet. This wasn't the parent he wanted. He’d wanted to be holding his mom. He wanted to be held by her, feel her warmth and feel safe in her arms. "Yeah, well, I couldn't let you down." Dean swallowed the lump in his throat. "I couldn't let mom down either." He stepped back, looking down. He wanted to ask why now. Why now did his father have to tell him he was proud of him? Why did he have to call him son at last?
"I was sent to see you, Dean." John's voice caught in his throat in a little sob. "Like you, I'm undergoing testing, and there are tasks I have to complete before Mary and I can be together again." He gave Dean his sad smile again. "You've made it possible for us to even contemplate being with each other once more, and I can't believe how amazing you are, but you have to trust Sammy, Dean. Stop fighting him. Sammy knows what he's doing, and he'll get what he wants. He always did."
Dean's eyes spilled over. He sniffled and tried to fight the tears back. "What? Stop fighting him? I can't!" Of course that was what his father wanted. Himself, Mary, and Sam all together as a family without him. "I stop, and he dies. Of course if that is what you want...” Dean’s eyes flashed anger. “You were always closer to Sam- more concerned over him than you ever were with me. I gave up everything for you and Sam. Everything. I’ve even pledged my life for Sam, and now in death is when you’re finally concerned about me? Gee thanks, Dad. I love you too." He stepped back, angry at last.
"No, Dean, listen to me." John reached for Dean again, gripping his shoulders. "Trust your brother, because you are not going to die. The only demand the bitch made of you was that you don't try to weasel out of the debt. There were no constrictions on Sam." John gazed at his son, willing him to believe and to hear what he was saying. "Listen, I am not permitted to stay for very long, but I have to tell you something important. I hid a package for you and Sam at Camp Pendleton." John fumbled in the pocket of his faded jeans and brought out a small, copper key. "Here. This is for you. Go to Camp Pendleton and find the package. It'll help explain things and hopefully make you feel better about your life." He pressed the key into Dean's hand and then let go.
Backing away as he spoke, John lifted his hand and smiled again. "I love you, Dean. Always have." He began to fade.
Dean looked down at the key, tears falling again as he looked up to see his father fade. "Dad, don't go! Dad?" Dean started after him but slowed. "I love you too," he whispered. "I love you, Dad."
He opened his eyes, fingers closed tightly around the key and the feather. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he stared into the fire.
"You okay?" Black Feather was standing now, holding out a glass of liquid. "Here. Drink this." He grinned at Dean's look of apprehension. "It's Gatorade. You need to replace the electrolytes in your system." He took the feather from Dean's hand and nodded. "You certainly were gone for a while. Did you find what you were looking for?"
Dean looked about himself, feeling lost before he raised his head and scrubbed his fingers over his eyes as he gave a nod. He took the glass, downing nearly half the contents, then handed the glass back as he pushed up to his feet, feeling muscles ache as he did. "How long was I gone?" he asked, confused because for him it had seemed like only moments. His fist was closed tightly around the key his father had given him, holding it as if, were he to lose it, his life would be over. "Where is Sam?"
"He's out in the living room, sleeping. He seems pretty tired." Black Feather smiled. "The spirit world is different from here. Depends where you went on your walk, and who you saw. Seems like something protected you while you were gone. Looks like you didn't need my feather." He gave Dean a grin. "What you really need is a trip to the sweat lodge and a smudge session. If you like, I'll get Little Deer to take you over there while Sam does his walk"
Dean pushed his way through the curtain to make sure Sam was indeed there and saw his brother sleeping. He felt unaccountably relieved to see him and stood there taking in the sight of him. As the shaman’s words filtered through, he turned back to Black Feather. "I need a what and what, by who?" Dean frowned, feeling a little nervous to leave his brother. He gave Sam a shake. "Hey, bro, wake up."
"Huh?" Sam sat bolt upright, looking around himself in confusion. "Dean!"
"The sweat lodge will ease your tension. It's like a sauna, and it takes the stress from your bones, eases your muscles and makes you sleep real good," Black Feather told Dean. "Sam will be a while on his walk, and you can't go with him on his journey. The smudge is a purification ceremony. Our elders tell us that, before a person can be healed or heal another, he must be cleansed of any bad feelings, negative thoughts, bad spirits or negative energy - cleansed both physically and spiritually. This helps the healing to come through in a clear way, without being distorted or sidetracked by negative things. I'm guessing that you could do with a cleansing, Dean."
Dean looked back to the man, thinking it was clear that the man did not know of his deal. "It's a little late for me," he answered as he hooked an arm under Sam and lifted his brother up to his feet. "But I'll take the sauna." He gave Sam a smile. "Your turn. And it's smoky. When you come out, I'm gonna be hungry for BBQ." He smacked Sam's arm and smiled.
"Come." Black Feather reached to show Sam the way back into the room where Dean had been. Sam paused, turning to look at his brother. "Go and sweat, dude. You'll enjoy it. I'll see you later." Turning, he followed Black Feather into the dark room, looking around himself curiously.
"I need to talk to you," he murmured, once they were away from Dean.
Dean watched Sam go wistfully, then gave him a little smile before turning to head off to the sweatlodge.
Black Feather looked at Sam, "Really? I wouldn't have guessed." He moved around, damping the fire down some more before throwing more logs upon it. "So tell me you need, and then I'll give you my answer." It seemed as if the shaman was already prepared for it.
"I have to save my brother." Now Sam was here, with the shaman he'd come so far to find, he felt tongue tied. "Dean... he... I died. He should have let me; it was my time, but he gave his soul to save me, and I came back. He's got less than a year now - more like a few months, and I found a paper that tells me I need a crystal, but I don't know what crystal. Bobby told me to come to you."
He paused, wondering if Black Feather would believe him or just laugh. "So... here I am. Can you help? I can't let him die for me. I love him."
"Yes, yes, just as your poppa did for him," Black Feather shuffled around then sat down. "Sit, start your journey and you will have your answer, son." He motioned for Sam to sit and prepared him as he had Dean. "Now drink." He sat back to watch the younger brother. "Oh and here, keep hold of this black feather. Use it against anything that attacks you. Just throw it at them. It will protect you. And hope you have the same protection your brother had."
Nodding, Sam drank what was given to him and settled down to wait. Once again the sweet, herbal smoke swirled out to fill the room, engulfing Sam and making his eyes water. Time plodded by on little, leaden feet.
A soft voice ventured out from the darkness. "Sam?" the gentle voice was soft and loving, tender as a mother. A bright light flared then faded to reveal the tender loving form of Mary Winchester, smiling softly, "Sam," she breathed, reaching up to touch his cheek.
Sam looked up, shocked. He hadn't known what to expect, but certainly not this. He'd got no recollection of his mother save for that one brief second when she'd appeared to him in their old house in Lawrence. He felt her fingers against his face, and gasped. "Mom?" he said, hoarse from the smoke. "I thought Missouri said you were destroyed when you banished that spirit from the house in Lawrenceville."
"You, Dean, you both need me right now. A mom can't deny her children." She pulled her hand away. "Your brother needs you more than anything right now." She frowned, looking past him as if she could see Dean. "He hurts so much inside." Her gaze returned to rest on Sam. "I'm so sorry."
"He sold himself for me, mom. I can't even tell you what he did for me. He's got less than a year before the hellhounds come for him, and I love him so much." He rose to his feet, finding it strange just how much taller than Mary he was. "How can I save him? I can't let him die for me." He found himself reaching for her like a little child despite his height, craving her arms around him and the love that he'd never experienced since he was six months old. "Besides, he's all I have left. I need him."
Mary wrapped her arms around Sam, holding him tenderly. "I know you do. You always have." She lifted her head to smile at him. "I have what you need." Stepping back from him, she reached around her neck, pulling two crystals necklaces out and placed them around Sam's neck. "It is my light and my love. As long as you both wear these, Dean will be with you, and you with him, but take it off, past his time, and you both will die." She placed her hand over Sam's heart. "Your love will be his strength. Our love will keep his heart going. Find him hope, Sam. But give him that choice."
"Missouri said that too. I promised her that I'd let him decide." Sam stood looking helpless. "Mom, he says he's tired - tired of fighting. I don't know what to do to help him. He's had so much to bear, but things are different now. I need to know how to save him, but we can't stop fighting. There are hundreds of demons loose, and I can't do it all on my own. The last fight we had put Bobby in the hospital, and it won't be long before we get badly hurt. I don't want to lose him, but what can I do when he's sick of fighting?"
"Love him, Sam. Show him you will always be there for him. Give what has been given to you without thought and without questions or orders. Give him your heart." Mary caressed Sam's cheek again. "Dean will find his will again. Heal his heart, Sam. Heal what has been broken for so long. Give him my love, Sam. Tell him I will always love him. I will always love you, too." She pulled away from him, starting to step back.
"No, wait, mom..." Sam reached out for her. "Why can't you tell him? He needs to see you again, mom. He needs to know that you're watching over him. He was such a little guy when he lost you, and he's missed you every day since it happened. He needs to see you much more than I did." Tears were starting in Sam's eyes as he looked down at her. "Please? It would mean everything to him."
Stretching up on tip toes, she kissed his cheeks, "Now isn’t the time. You’ll know when the right time comes, and then, if you call me, I’ll be there. I’ll see him again." She caressed his cheek, wiping his tears away. "I promise I’ll see him again."
Nodding sadly, Sam watched her go. He lifted his hand to feel the place on his cheek where her lips had touched, and wished with all his heart that he could have given himself so that she could come back and be with Dean. "Bye, mom," he whispered, although by then she'd faded back into the smoke. "I promise that I'll do whatever he needs, because it's what I need too."
Turning, he began to try and make his way out of the smoke.
Dean was relaxing in the sweat hut. Stones had been heated and water poured upon them, causing the steam filled the room. Dean sat with his head down, but in his hand, he held the small copper key. John had told him to go to Camp Pendleton. There he’d find how much John truly cared for them. It seemed that there were ever more secrets. More things John had never told them in person. It seemed strange that only after his death was Dean truly learning of his father.
He looked up when the door opened, and he saw Sam at last.
Drained, Sam could only nod to his brother and slump down beside him. He was clutching the two crystals in his hand, afraid to let go of them in case they vanished into the dream world the way his mother had.
"How was your spirit walk?" he asked as he lay back against the deer-hide that covered the floor. "Did you find out what you wanted?"
Dean looked at Sam's hand, noticing he was clutching something as he did. "It was ... not what I expected." He looked down at the floor. "And you?" Dean asked.
"I'd say that sums it up." Sam closed his eyes. "I had a visitor who told me I had to give you my heart." He flashed a tired grin at Dean. "You know it's yours, don't you? You want to eat it now, or save it for later?"
Dean gave a tired smile as well then leaned over and, with a tip of his head, gave his brother a sweet, loving kiss. "Can I just keep it for a while?" He gave Sam a tender look. "C'mon, let's get out of here. I need a shower to get this smell off me." He pushed up, heading slowly toward the entrance.
Nodding, heart full, Sam rose to his feet and fell into step at Dean's shoulder. "Yeah, man! You do smell a bit ripe." He chuckled as Dean aimed a swat at him. "Once you're clean and nice to know, I've got stuff to tell you."
Black Feather was waiting for them, leaning against the door frame as they came level. "So, guys, you good?"
Sam frowned. Was he? It was too soon to tell, but he would be, if Dean made the right choice. He met the Indian's eyes and shrugged. "I don't know yet. I'll tell you later, okay?" He gave Dean a tentative smile. "Got things to discuss first. Can I come back tomorrow and talk to you, if I need to?"
"Course." The Indian nodded, then turned to Dean with a jerk of his chin. "And now, you gonna show me how that sweet baby of yours goes?"
Dean perked up and smiled. "Yeah, c'mon," he motioned the Indian to follow as he moved out to his car and climbed behind the wheel, starting her up and opening the hood to show what was under her, talking car shop with the Indian while Sam stood to the side.
Smiling, Sam looked on, crystals pressed into the palm of his hand, marveling at how Dean seemed to be at peace when he was discussing his car with someone. He chuckled as the two of them started poking at things under the hood and let himself zone out. It was easy to let his mind drift back over the encounter with his mom's spirit, and he wished that Dean could see her too. He wondered what Dean had met on his journey and knew he wouldn't be able to avoid probing to find out.
When Dean nudged him with his elbow and said it was time to go, he jumped.
"Let's go zoneout boy." Dean moved around to climb into the already running car. He pushed a tape in, and once Sam was inside, Dean pulled away, just driving without knowing where he was going. John had told him to go to Camp Pendleton, that he would find something there for him, but Dean had to wonder if there really was. His father had kept secrets - so many secrets, like the Road House, like Ellen and Jo. People. Places and so much more. Fear crept up inside him, and he made for the Grand Canyon at last, stopping at the observation deck. Once he'd drawn up and parked, he just sat in the car, staring.
"Dean?" Sam had been watching the thoughts flit across his brother's face, worrying as he watched hurt appear. "Dude, what's wrong? Did something bad happen when you did your spirit walk?"
Reaching out, he put his arm around Dean in an attempt to comfort him, but for once, Dean didn't respond. "Dean?" he asked again. "Talk to me."
"Let's go take a look, now we're here." Dean pushed him away and got out of the car, closing the door and going around to the new walkway that took one out over the canyon on glass. He stepped out over it, looking down and wishing his feelings would just jump down there and crash on the rocks. He wished he'd never seen his father, and that the key in his pocket wasn't weighing so heavily upon him. He knew he had to stay away from Sam, or he feared he would hurt his brother.
"Hey, wait up?" Sam shrugged helplessly and got out of the car to follow his brother onto the walkway. "Did I do something wrong?" He wanted to cry. He was so close to having saved Dean, at least temporarily, that he had been feeling really good. Now, he could see that Dean wouldn't accept his offer, even if he were to make it. He hung back, trying to imagine what exactly would produce this reaction in Dean, but failed. Finally, he stepped forward and spread his hands. "What? Tell me, dude. You're scaring me."
"Sorry," Dean whispered. He looked out over the vast canyon and then looked over to Sam over his shoulder, "Do you really think you can save me?"
"Dude, I don't just think it; I know it." Sam pressed his fingers tightly around the crystals in his pocket. "If you wanna live, then I'll save you. You're my whole reason for living, Dean, and I've told you before, I'm going with you, if you go."
"Then you leave me no choice," Dean looked back out. "I guess I have to live to keep you alive." He turned and started walking again.
"Whoa, dude, wait up." Sam wasn't sure what was going down, but he didn't think Dean had chosen life yet. "Listen, dude, you remember back when we were in that fucked up town with the Croatoan thing? You said you didn't want to live if I died. You remember that?" Sam was starting to feel a little bit angry now. "So how come I'm not allowed to care that much about you? You make it sound like it's a chore, and... and I love you, goddammit!"
Dean looked at his brother. "It's because I'm tired, Sam. I don't know if I can keep going on. I don't know if ..." Dean sighed, "I was scared to be alone. I didn't want to be alone. I would have never made it. I couldn't have made it without you, Sam. You're stronger than me. You always have been. Hell! You stood up to Dad; I didn't. I just ..." Dean looked away. "I love you too." He looked back at his brother. "I love you too, Sammy."
"I don't want to be alone either; you know that." Sam ached to put his arms around his brother and hold him tight. "You don't ever have to be alone. You and me, we're a team, we are. We work together. Don't want it any other way." He stepped forward and reached for Dean. "Everything I am, everything I could ever be, I owe to you. You're mine, Dean. Can't make it without you."
"Someone has to make sure you put on clean underwear," Dean gave him a little smile as he moved into Sam's arms, letting his brother hug him.
"Ass," grumbled Sam, pulling him in tight against his chest and leaning his cheek against Dean's hair. "You didn't tell me to this morning, and I forgot to put any on. Get it right, willya?"
Dean's hand reached behind Sam, slipping into his pants just to feel if it was true before pinching him, "Liar," he smiled and pushed him back. "C'mon, it's cold, and I want some beer. Let's get back to the motel and watch crappy movies or porn."
Laughing, Sam heaved a sigh of relief as he followed Dean back up from the observation point. "Man," he murmured, looking back. "That's one gigantic hole in the ground. Pretty damned spectacular, don't you think?"
Dean nodded, "Yeah, it is." He climbed back into the Impala and turned the heat on before leaning over, grabbing Sam and kissing him long deep and hard, then pulled away and started back to the motel. "You know, if we can't find anything on TV, I have another way we can pass the time," he smirked.
"You want me to teach you to knit?" asked Sam, suppressing a smile. "Yeah, I can do that." He fingered his lips, the imprint of Dean's kiss still tingling on his skin. ""Or maybe we can play chess. I realize that you've missed playful stuff like that." He narrowed his eyes, sending Dean a sultry message with the expression on his face. "And dude, you've never lived until you've played strip chess."
Dean looked at Sam and gave a gasp, then reached to smack his brother on the chest. "Dude, you pervert!" He grinned brightly and gave a chuckle. "Strip chess uh? God, you need to learn some better games. That is so ... college."
"And your point?" Sam snickered as he studied his brother, noting the bruised look around his eyes. He knew that something had rattled Dean's composure and wondered if he'd ever talk to Sam about it. He decided that he'd tell Dean everything that he'd found out, once they got back to the hotel. He'd offer the crystals. After that, he had no idea how things would go.
"You need to learn to live a little. Hey, I know our next stop. Las Vegas. I'll show you how to live it up. And that doesn't mean going to see Tom Jones. I mean, gambling. Taking risks. Eating, drinking and show girls. Long legs to there," Dean indicated a level somewhere around his waist for showgirl leg length as he pulled into the parking lot and climbed out of the car. Once they were in the room he tossed his jacket down and turned to Sam.
"Yeah, I bet you will too," Sam elbowed his brother in the ribs. "Bet my legs are longer, anyway, dude." He followed Dean in, turning to lock the door and place a sigil on it. "You gonna salt up, or shall I?" he asked. "And then you need a shower, dude. So do I after that smoke. I smell like I've been hickory smoked and cured. Oh, yeah, and you were saying about learning to knit or something."
Dean was pulling his shirt off. "You salt, I'll shower." He shook his head at Sam, "I think it was the something part. Knitting, only you would know knitting even existed, let alone how to do it, college boy." He walked into the bathroom, finishing his stripping in there so he could shower. He paused to double check the little copper key, making sure it was still in his pocket, before he stepped into the shower to wash away the residue of the day.
Applying the barrier of salt around the doors and windows was done in a matter of moments, and Sam quickly stripped off, making for the bathroom and stepping under the shower behind his brother. He'd put the two precious crystals into the back pocket of his jeans, and spent a moment contemplating how to tell Dean about them. He decided to wait until Dean was clean and relaxed before breaking the news to him. The warm water cascaded around him as he reached out, taking the soap to begin washing his brother.
Dean jumped when he heard the shower curtain pull back. "Dude, you gave me a Psycho moment." He turned back, sticking his head under the water, and when Sam started washing him, he leaned back against his taller brother. Sighing softly, Dean closed his eyes, relaxing against him. He swore after his spirit walk, he could sleep for a week. He felt so emotionally drained. Weary. Tired.
Sam's hands ran over the smooth, soapy skin, soothing, gentling, loving his brother. He pressed a series of tiny kisses down from his ear to his shoulder and licked at the water sluicing over the freckled skin. "Gonna stab you with my big sword," he said with a snicker, pressing up against his back so that Dean could feel the hard length of him. "What do you think of that?"
Dean tilted his head and gave his brother a warm smile. "Is that a promise or just a threat?" Pushing back against Sam, he let his body tell his brother he was indeed interested. Very much so.
"I believe I can promise it," smirked Sam. "My turn to lead, dude. Want to make you scream my name out loud." He slid his hands down to Dean's groin and wrapped his fingers around Dean's cock, sliding soapy digits over it. "Think you can do that for me?"
Dean closed his eyes, moaning deeply as Sam grasped his cock. His brother's large hand pumped his cock, and he could feel himself melting. "I don't know, we can find out." He turned his head and bit into Sam's neck, tugging at the skin before releasing it.
Soapy hands played over Dean's skin, soapy fingers slid down the cleft between his buttocks, and circled the opening there, while his mouth grazed his shoulders, pausing to nibble and lick at the back of Dean's neck, tickling over the base of his skull. "Mine, Dean. This is mine," he whispered, stroking the thick cock he held in his hand. "You're mine."
Dean rubbed his hands up and down Sam's strong arms. He gave a groan and closed his eyes as Sam's mouth worked along his neck. That insistent hand was still stroking him. Dean gave a nod at Sam's words. "Since we were little I was yours." His body shuddered as he felt Sam's cock press against his ass cheeks, knowing where that cock wanted to go.
"I always thought of you as mine - You were mom, dad, everything, when I was a kid. Now... I don't know. You're everything and more. I'm hooked on you, and I love you." Sam murmured soft words into his brother's ear and reached to begin pressing inside him, slow and careful, his hand shaking with the sheer need to make it good for Dean too. "I want you. Can I? Please?"
Dean closed his eyes, his hands going out to touch the tile. He braced his body, and he gritted his teeth. All he felt was pain as he tried to stay relaxed. Dean wasn't sure he really wanted this, but Sam did, so he would do it anyway. He looked back at his brother, "Do it, Sammy," he hissed out between his teeth.
For want of lube, Sam used soap, slicking his hands first, then his cock and working his way inside slowly and carefully. "Want you to feel good, he murmured, his hand sliding down to encircle Dean's cock and stroke it slowly, thumb caressing the slit on each dragging caress. Once his cock was seated inside of Dean, he paused, waiting, his other hand finding and cupping Dean's balls, fingers gliding over them in slippery, soapy touches. "Tell me when I can move," he whispered, licking at Dean's cheek.
Dean gave an involuntary gasp as his balls were cupped and his cock was fondled. The knowing touches were helping him to relax, and he could feel his cock becoming stiff once again. He turned his head and tried to get at Sam's lips, his tongue licking at them in invitation. The pleasant sensations were getting to him now, and he started moving his own hips. "I'm ready. God, Sammy," he breathed. He hadn't realized till now just how large his brother was.
Sam had been holding his breath, trying so hard not to move that he was shivering. As Dean told him he could move, he gave a gasp of relief and began to do so, pulling out and sliding back, slow and smooth, whispering loving nonsense as he did so. He kept his hands on Dean's cock and balls, teasing and stroking as he fucked him. "Jesus, Dean, you feel so good - so tight on my dick. I could do this forever. I never want anyone else ever again, only you forever."
Dean let out a small cry and a whimper, Sam's cock was stretching him, smooth and slippery as he drove into him. Dean's adjusted his hands on the tiles, his arms bracing as he found himself pushing back onto Sam's cock, then jerking forward into his hand his body neither knowing or caring which direction it wanted more. He swore under his breath as he lowered his head. This was so wrong -so very very wrong, but Sam was the only true love Dean had ever known and was now feeling more in love than he'd ever believed possible. He had to close his eyes tightly to keep back the tears that were starting.
The feel of Dean around him, squeezing his cock, impossibly hot and sweet, was all that Sam had ever wanted. He moved in and out of his brother, hips snapping as he angled to find Dean's sweet spot, and felt himself slowly losing his mind. He set his teeth into Dean's shoulder, nipping along it in counterpoint to the slide of his cock, and told Dean how much he loved him over and over. He wanted Dean to come first, but he wasn't sure that would be possible, because the tight, slick hole he was fucking was making him crazy.
"Need you to come for me, Dean," he finally growled. "Can't hold on much longer."
Dean trembled in Sam's arms. Sam's cock was sliding over his sweet spot again and again, and he groaned deeply, driving himself back onto it. He craned his neck towards Sam, "I love you, Sammy," he responded, and felt his balls tighten, filling his cock so that he splattered sticky white against the wall before him, covering Sam's hand. He couldn't stop himself from crying out as he came.
And the words that Dean had just uttered were all that Sam needed, now and forever. They shook him to his core, sent the heady wash of pleasure through him and tumbled him over the edge into a climax so strong that he thought his legs might give way under him.
By the time he had recovered enough to move again, the water was cold, and he muttered a curse as he reached to turn it off again. Dean was still quiet, and Sam reached for one of the towels and began to dry him, turning him so he could kiss his mouth and whisper gentle love and thanks against his lips.
Dean kept looking down, fighting emotions and words that wanted to spill out. He wanted to tell Sam to save him, because he didn't want to die any more. Not that now he had his brother. He had Sam's love, and it was all he'd ever wanted. He raised his eyes to Sam and felt his brother's lips moving over his. The whispered words were tearing into Dean's heart, and he grabbed Sam, hoping his kiss would say what he couldn't voice at this moment as he kissed him hard, long and possessively.
Sam was aware that something profound had happened. He could tell that his brother was going through some sort of epiphany, and he hoped that whatever it was would help Dean find peace. He wrapped his arms around Dean and peppered kisses all over his face, wanting so much that he couldn't say. Finally, he let Dean go, stood back to study him and murmured, "You okay? I didn't hurt you?"
Dean hugged Sam tightly then let him go. He stood there staring at his brother then nodded, "Yeah, I'm okay. You didn't hurt me. Let's get into bed. I know you, you want to snuggle." He smiled. He hit Sam's arm and turned to go out into the bedroom, running to jump on the bed and making it groan. He patted the spot beside him and turned back to his brother. "C'mon, you know you wanna."
Laughing, Sam followed, somewhat more sedately climbing onto the bed behind his brother and reaching out long arms to wrap him up and pull him close. Once settled, Sam gave a happy little grunt and reached for the remote. "You've got a choice now," he murmured against Dean's rough cheek. "More sex, bad TV or sleep. Your call."
Dean grabbed the remote and tossed it away. He then turned his body and started kissing Sam, moving over him. "Hah! what do you think?" He started moving down Sam's body, kissing, nipping at his skin. He worked over his brother's strong abs, rimming out his belly button shifting to curl his body so that he could lick at Sam's cock.
"I think you didn't have enough toys as a child," snickered Sam, reaching down to run his fingers through Dean's hair. "Not that I'm complaining, you understand." He gave a little moan as Dean set to work on him. He'd thought he was done, the orgasm he'd had in the shower had almost turned him inside out with its intensity, but as Dean began to swirl his tongue around the head of his cock, it stirred to life, and in less than a minute it was standing proud, ready to go all over again. "That's a good trick," he panted, looking down at the havoc Dean had created.
Dean flicked his tongue off Sam's cock and smiled up to him. "I know! I have a really talented mouth, don't I?" He smirked as he positioned himself over the long, curved cock, bending the shaft up 'til it was in the right position for him. He wrapped his fingers around the hard flesh more firmly and then his lips as well, taking Sam in to begin bobbing over him.
There was little Sam could do but agree with him as he felt that wicked tongue slide around his glans. He lay back and let Dean pleasure him, legs spreading wantonly as he arched into the caresses. ""Guess I shouldn't ask you where you learned to do this," he gasped as Dean drew away to breathe for a moment. "Whoever it was, they deserve medals for teaching. you're awesome."
Dean's hand pumped over Sam's cock. He smiled, his eyes crinkling at his brother. "Maybe I'm just a natural." He dropped his head back down, licking along the side of Sam's cock, running his lips up and down the sides before coming up over the crown to take him in again. At times his cheeks would dimple, and a pop could be heard as he pulled off his brother before swallowing him down again.
It was hard to hold on. Dean's mouth was apparently trying to draw him out through the end of his dick. Sam found himself begging, pleading for Dean to put him out of his misery and let him come. It was obvious that Dean was relishing his control over his younger brother, teasing him as he sucked. Finally , he whimpered, "Your turn, Dean. Want you to fuck me."
Pulling off, Dean studied his brother, then he moved up and positioned himself between Sam's knees. "You sure about this? How badly you want it?" he teased.
"Just fucking do it," growled Sam, spreading his thighs wide and offering himself for anything that Dean wanted to do. "Your turn. It's your turn!"
Dean rubbed his cock against Sam before he started pushing in, one hand holding his cock while the other held Sam's leg high. He winced for a moment before pushing inside, groaning as he dropped onto his hands and drove in deeper and deeper 'til his balls were pressed to Sam's ass. Sam was loosening up now, looser each time Dean fucked him, and it felt delicious. A thrill ran through him at the thought that Sam was getting used to HIS cock and no one else's. Driving into Sam, Dean took it slow and steady, making sure he was pleasuring his brother. He loved the sound of Sam's moans, knowing he was causing them himself.
So close, Sam was so close... He couldn't imagine a better place to be than here with Dean driving in and out of him. He was beginning to realize just how much Dean loved him, and he knew beyond a doubt that he would give his own life to save his brother. He snorted out a laugh when he realized just how fucked up that would be under the circumstances. Dean's cock dragged over Sam's prostate; Dean's hand was pumping him as he fucked, and with every snap of his brother's hips Sam drew closer to his climax. When it hit, it made every muscle in his body tense and locked every joint as he shuddered and gasped.
Gasping, Dean felt Sam tighten upon him. He couldn't hold off his own release, feeling his body tighten as he gave his brother everything he'd got. Dean's eyes closed tightly, and then his face slackened, desperate as he lost control and let himself be washed away. "Oh, God, Sammy," he moaned, dropping down onto Sam.
The love that Sam felt for his brother filled him, and he wrapped his arms around Dean, running his fingers up and down Dean's spine, cupping his buttocks and squeezing. He kissed Dean's cheek, nibbled gently at his stubbly chin and crooned soft words of love to him. "Fucking amazing, dude. Can't let you go, gonna keep you forever. Need you, Dean. Need you like breathing."
Dean turned his head and kissed Sam before pushing up onto his arms and pulling from his brother so he could drop down beside him, worn out. He knew he needed to clean up, but for now he was too tired.
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