Fic: Dealbreaker, SPN, Dean/Sam, NC-17
Apr. 16th, 2008 04:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Title: Dealbreaker
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Goes AU during 'Mystery Spot'
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine and I am not making money from this.
Warnings: See pairing.
A/N: Big thanks to
slashyme for the beta and suggestions.
Summary: Sam takes matters into his own hands.
By the time the sun disappeared on Wednesday Sam had given up hope he’d wake up to his brother smiling and tying his boots. The moon was out and he’d been staring at Dean’s body for a few hours. He was numb, hollowed out; grief, anger and weariness a mix that would weigh on his heart for the rest of his life.
His brother’s body was so cold and still on the motel bed, and he knew Dean must have felt like this as he’d watched Sam’s body back in that old ghost town. That’s when Sam realized that whoever held the contract for Dean’s soul was defrauding on their side of the bargain.
A year wasn’t up and fuck if Sam would accept that. The deal had been clear, Sam’s life for Dean’s soul and Dean got to live for a year, not five months or six months, or eleven months, twenty-nine days. One year, one, and if a demon couldn’t even hold that up, then Sam was going to yank his brother back and hold on to him with the stubbornness that marked every Winchester ever born.
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and something inside him clicked like a door opening; a door he’d never wanted to open but because it was Dean, all bets were off. Matter of fact, the bets never existed.
Everything changed between one breath and the next.
Sam gasped as the sensation of falling enveloped his body. Images zipped through his mind, his life, his parents’ lives, separate and together, Dean’s life, other people he was close too. An image of Jess on the ceiling blended into an image of his mother the same way.
That should hurt but he was numb to the grief, already steeped in it like he’d never known anything else. Something peeled away from his body, from his soul, sloughing off like a snake grown to big for its skin.
When he took his next breath, he knew what he had to do to bring Dean back. The simplicity of it made him laugh, and deep down, Sam knew that wasn’t a normal reaction, but he’d stopped being normal when he was six months old.
He straddled Dean and ignored the fact that the body was dead while he placed a hand over his heart, and one over Dean’s. He didn’t speak, just concentrated and pushed his hand harder against the chilled flesh. Something burned inside him, hate and bitterness, love and need.
He took it all and gave it to the one that had taught him to be Sam Winchester.
He stayed locked like that, his hands hot on his brother, his body both guarding Dean and waiting. This would work because he wanted it to, he willed it to, and he always got what he wanted.
Dean’s back bowed, almost throwing Sam off, and he inhaled deeply and coughed. Sam got off of him and pulled him up, patting his back and trying not to hold him too tight. Dean kept coughing and pushed Sam’s hands away while saying something about, ‘big freaking paws offa me.’
An hour later, Sam watched while Dean finished his dinner of pizza and breadsticks. It satisfied something deep down inside him as his brother sighed lustily, his hand patting his stomach while reaching for the remote. He flipped through all the available stations twice before he settled on a western. Sam smiled and felt little goofy with it while Dean kept looking at him out of the corner of his eye.
After watching him die so many times it soothed Sam to look at his brother and know it wouldn’t happen again. He closed his eyes and thought of the trickster, that bastard. It was on the run, having felt Sam’s acceptance of the darker things that’d been following him his entire life.
Sam had plans for the malicious prankster, something like peeling his skin from his body day after day after day. He shrugged to himself because he had time to think and plan and savor the fact that the trickster’s day was coming.
He eyed his brother’s legs as the TV droned on and on. They were long, blue jeans ragged with splotches all on them leading to incongruously bright white socks. His gaze traveled up, stopped at his crotch and Sam wondered why he wasn’t turning red and blushing. Any other time he would be because that’s what looking at Dean sometimes did to him.
He’d spent half of his teen-aged years trying to hide how turned on his brother made him. He remembered how he’d had to walk around with this hot ball of shame in his stomach that didn’t pay heed to his wishes for the feelings to just go away.
He’d researched that nasty word to try and understand his feelings before he went insane. Deep down he still wasn’t sure if he’d just given himself some kind of lame justification about how their life was full of moving and knowing what others didn’t and being close, so that he wouldn’t think something was wrong for wanting things from someone related to him.
Back then, he thought Dean could read his mind the way he’d stare at Sam for a few minutes too long, or walk around in nothing but a towel for longer than necessary.
After Stanford, after Jess, the very idea of sex was unthinkable. Being close to someone, smiling and touching, the very idea of any of it, hurt. Besides, he liked order, liked doing things a certain way and when he’d been with Jess, he’d had that.
Sarah, with her new knowledge of haunted paintings, had been sweet and kind. He’d wished he’d gotten to know her better, but something inside him just wanted to ride away because that was easier.
Madison had been different: sweet, funny and courageous. She’d made his insides try and twist themselves around, so he’d went for it and it turned into something horrible that still felt like ash in the back of his mouth.
Dean was the ultimate, impossible, unreachable person that he wanted but he needed him like he needed oxygen and water, so he’d never even dared consider the possibility. He knew he could never handle a piteous, condemning look from Dean. But now things were different so why not? Brave new world and brave new him.
He sat down on Dean’s bed and only got a confused frown. His brother made a small squawking noise he’d probably deny when Sam kissed him. For a minute, Sam thought his brother was going to push him away, but then his mouth opened and they were kissing for the first time. Dean tasted sweet, like tangy pizza sauce and beer and it was better than any wet dream Sam had ever had.
He pressed harder and Dean seemed to melt as he let out a soft whimper and eased down further into the bed. Sam went with him and as he lay over his brother he ran one hand through Dean’s hair, soft and bristle-rough at the same time, while Dean kissed his jaw, his chin and his neck.
Clothes were taken off between kisses and licks that made them both groan and come back for more. Sam smiled to himself when his tongue in Dean’s navel made his brother laugh. He went further as he finally got Dean’s pants off. His own clothes were gone, strewn messily on the floor, a rare thing for him but no way was he going to stop now to fold clothes or tuck them into a laundry bag.
“Sam, oh god, so good, don’t stop, just…don’t.”
Sam nodded and licked a warm messy kiss onto Dean’s cock. The taste burst over his tongue and he went back for more, sucking, lapping and bobbing his head until Dean groaned, one hand in Sam’s hair. Come hit the back of his mouth and he swallowed quickly getting most of it as his brother pushed up between his lips.
The look on Dean’s face had him wiping his mouth and climbing up to kiss him before flipping him over onto his stomach. He dragged his tongue over Dean’s back, tracing scars he’d known for years and some that he hadn’t. Dean shivered as Sam licked the dip of his spine and bit the soft skin on his ass.
Sam moved Dean how he wanted him and knelt behind him, fingers slippery from little packets of lube that now lay scattered on the bed with them. One finger made Dean shudder and say something that was muffled by the pillow his face was pressed into. Two fingers had him eagerly pressing back into Sam’s hand.
Sam eased his fingers in and out; circling and twisting them until he felt it was enough. His hands gripped warm skin and hips as he pushed in with one long thrust. Before he thought about it, he gripped Dean’s short hair so his head was off the pillow and he heard the sounds that came out of his big brother’s mouth.
The now vocal noises and half formed whispers made him harder and he pulled out a little and pushed back in, missing the tight and heat that quickly. No one should feel this good, this slick and perfect. The cheap headboard began to knock against the wall and Sam remembered all the times throughout his life he’d heard the same sound from another room.
Sweat coated his skin as he watched Dean’s hands claw at the sheets while the muscles in his back rippled and shifted like he was about to become something else. He couldn’t last and just the thought of being able to do this again later, and tomorrow and the day after that, filled him with a mix of lust and love. His fingers gripped harder as he jack hammered into Dean, riding him down into the bed before coming, his mouth tasting like warm pennies after biting his bottom lip.
He lay there slightly out of breath and watched Dean watch him. Something seemed to swim behind Dean’s eyes in one blink to the next. Sam froze and looked closer. Dean jerked away from the hand on his chin. “What’s wrong with you?”
Sam let him go and studied his brother as Dean walked to his duffle bag and then to the bathroom.
He listened to the shower turn on and cut the TV on though he had no clue where the remote was. The news bored him, but he watched out of habit before changing the channel to something else. He wondered if he could get Dean to give him a blowjob later and just the thought of lips wrapped around him, tongue slick and teasing had him hard and ready.
The shower cut off and a few minutes later Dean appeared, looking at something on the floor, towel barely hanging on his hips. He climbed on the bed, between Sam’s legs and sucked him down, mouth hot and way more experienced at this than Sam ever would have guessed. His head bobbed and droplets of water rained down on Sam’s skin. He closed his eyes and threw his head back, tempted to stop Dean but really wanting him to keep going.
Soft slurping was the only sound in the room until he came with a broken off groan. Dean wiped his mouth and looked at him, lips shiny and swollen. Sam smiled at him before he used his powers to throw him against a wall. Dean didn’t struggle as Sam got up and pulled on a pair of jeans.
“Who are you?”
The thing pinned to the wall tilted it’s head sideways and studied him. “I’m Dean.”
“You’re not my brother. How did you know to come out of the bathroom and do that?” How did you know what I was thinking?”
It smiled, teeth bright in the dim light of the room. “You enjoyed it, you enjoyed it all.”
Sam concentrated and the thing screamed, blood welling up on its face and chest. “Who are you? Where’s my brother?”
It coughed blood and laughed. “I am your brother.”
It smiled again and licked blood from its lips like a cat lapped up milk. “I’ve just… been reborn in your image, Sammy. Made whole by your thoughts and your desires. I’m Dean, the Dean you want me to be.”
It pouted at him, the same pout-lost little boy combo that Dean used to win arguments and get between women‘s thighs. “Anything you want me to do, I’ll do. It’ll be just us and you don’t even have to tell me what you want. Just think it and it’s yours. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted, little brother?”
Sam stalked up to it and put his hand on its head. It screamed loudly until Sam made it stop and then there was just pitiful little whimpers. He felt like he was digging around in a bottomless trunk of sharp knives while blindfolded. He felt tiny pieces like fragile bubbles blown and floating around; memories and quirks, sayings and fierceness, all parts of Dean Winchester.
He pulled at them, found each part, some down so deep it was like he was searching the bottom of the ocean. He barely noticed as the body convulsed and green eyes stared at him, silently begging him for something. He paused and let go of his hold on its voice. “What?”
It panted and smiled like the very best sycophant. “You do this and no sex for youuuuuuu.” It coughed and got serious, trying to find the key to get Sam to stop. “No deep sharing and long talks, just me afraid to tell you anything of any significance, just me being stupid and risking my life because it’s such a worthless thing. I can love you like this, completely, and oh the fun we could have. No more doing what you don’t like. It’d be perfect.”
Sam held the pieces of his brother in his metaphorical hands and looked at the facsimile, brought back only half way and wrong at that. He smiled sadly. “But it wouldn’t be Dean.”
He squeezed and shoved power into the bubbles, hardening them to glass and then steel. His body burned and blood dripped from his nose before a white light threw him across the room. He got up on all fours up, weak and dazed and the first thing he heard was, “Why the hell am I naked?”
He giggled quietly as narrow feet appeared in his eyesight. “Why are you only half-dressed? Damnit, Sam, this better be some college prank of yours or your ass is kicked and bald by tomorrow!”
Sam flopped down on his bed and laughed; big gulps of breath laced with hysteria. At first Dean ignored him while he pulled on clothes, but as Sam kept gasping and staring at the ceiling he came over and sat down. Sam took his attention off the watermarks on the ceiling and looked at his brother. He still wanted to kiss him but decided that would be a bad idea.
Dean has his ‘mother hen’ face on and Sam looked forward to telling him that the next day. He flinched when Dean touched his face and his fingers came away wet. “You want to tell me what happened? This have anything to do with the crossroads stuff?”
“I thought you didn’t want to talk about that?”
Dean shrugged. “If it’s got you like this, then I’ll risk it.”
Sam sighed and sat up. Should he tell Dean what had happened? Everything? His inner voice quickly spoke up and voted no on the sex stuff.
“You died. A lot. More than you could imagine, in ways you couldn’t imagine. I had to live the same day over and over, watch you die over and over until I went out of my mind.”
Dean nodded and gestured for him to continue.
“It was the trickster. He said he’d stop and then it was finally the next day and you hadn’t died but then you did. Someone shot you and I brought you back.”
Dean froze. “What?”
Sam put a hand on Dean’s chest. He felt Dean’s heartbeat through the t-shirt. “I brought you back and I declared the crossroads deal null. If they come for you in a few months, then they’ll have a knockdown drag out fight on their hands. They gave you a year but you were just gone.” He laughed quietly until Dean put his hand over his. He met Dean’s eyes, and was embarrassed when his voice broke. “I missed you so much.”
Dean pulled him in closer and wrapped his arms around his back. Sam hugged him tight and closed his eyes.
The other thing was gone, part of Dean but not all of him and if Sam couldn’t live without Dean, he sure as hell couldn’t live with one that did what he said all the time.
Dean spoke, his breath warm against Sam‘s ear. “It’s okay, I’m here now and I’m not leaving you.” The fierce words comforted Sam all though he didn’t believe them, they were enough for now.
Later, Sam found the remote and let Dean have it. They joked and it was almost a typical night in a motel for them. Sam laughed while he thought about the kisses he remembered and his brother didn’t.
The want and need he’d seen on Dean’s face earlier were a part of his brother; he just had to work and find it and Sam was nothing if not stubborn and determined.
End
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Goes AU during 'Mystery Spot'
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine and I am not making money from this.
Warnings: See pairing.
A/N: Big thanks to
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Summary: Sam takes matters into his own hands.
By the time the sun disappeared on Wednesday Sam had given up hope he’d wake up to his brother smiling and tying his boots. The moon was out and he’d been staring at Dean’s body for a few hours. He was numb, hollowed out; grief, anger and weariness a mix that would weigh on his heart for the rest of his life.
His brother’s body was so cold and still on the motel bed, and he knew Dean must have felt like this as he’d watched Sam’s body back in that old ghost town. That’s when Sam realized that whoever held the contract for Dean’s soul was defrauding on their side of the bargain.
A year wasn’t up and fuck if Sam would accept that. The deal had been clear, Sam’s life for Dean’s soul and Dean got to live for a year, not five months or six months, or eleven months, twenty-nine days. One year, one, and if a demon couldn’t even hold that up, then Sam was going to yank his brother back and hold on to him with the stubbornness that marked every Winchester ever born.
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and something inside him clicked like a door opening; a door he’d never wanted to open but because it was Dean, all bets were off. Matter of fact, the bets never existed.
Everything changed between one breath and the next.
Sam gasped as the sensation of falling enveloped his body. Images zipped through his mind, his life, his parents’ lives, separate and together, Dean’s life, other people he was close too. An image of Jess on the ceiling blended into an image of his mother the same way.
That should hurt but he was numb to the grief, already steeped in it like he’d never known anything else. Something peeled away from his body, from his soul, sloughing off like a snake grown to big for its skin.
When he took his next breath, he knew what he had to do to bring Dean back. The simplicity of it made him laugh, and deep down, Sam knew that wasn’t a normal reaction, but he’d stopped being normal when he was six months old.
He straddled Dean and ignored the fact that the body was dead while he placed a hand over his heart, and one over Dean’s. He didn’t speak, just concentrated and pushed his hand harder against the chilled flesh. Something burned inside him, hate and bitterness, love and need.
He took it all and gave it to the one that had taught him to be Sam Winchester.
He stayed locked like that, his hands hot on his brother, his body both guarding Dean and waiting. This would work because he wanted it to, he willed it to, and he always got what he wanted.
Dean’s back bowed, almost throwing Sam off, and he inhaled deeply and coughed. Sam got off of him and pulled him up, patting his back and trying not to hold him too tight. Dean kept coughing and pushed Sam’s hands away while saying something about, ‘big freaking paws offa me.’
An hour later, Sam watched while Dean finished his dinner of pizza and breadsticks. It satisfied something deep down inside him as his brother sighed lustily, his hand patting his stomach while reaching for the remote. He flipped through all the available stations twice before he settled on a western. Sam smiled and felt little goofy with it while Dean kept looking at him out of the corner of his eye.
After watching him die so many times it soothed Sam to look at his brother and know it wouldn’t happen again. He closed his eyes and thought of the trickster, that bastard. It was on the run, having felt Sam’s acceptance of the darker things that’d been following him his entire life.
Sam had plans for the malicious prankster, something like peeling his skin from his body day after day after day. He shrugged to himself because he had time to think and plan and savor the fact that the trickster’s day was coming.
He eyed his brother’s legs as the TV droned on and on. They were long, blue jeans ragged with splotches all on them leading to incongruously bright white socks. His gaze traveled up, stopped at his crotch and Sam wondered why he wasn’t turning red and blushing. Any other time he would be because that’s what looking at Dean sometimes did to him.
He’d spent half of his teen-aged years trying to hide how turned on his brother made him. He remembered how he’d had to walk around with this hot ball of shame in his stomach that didn’t pay heed to his wishes for the feelings to just go away.
He’d researched that nasty word to try and understand his feelings before he went insane. Deep down he still wasn’t sure if he’d just given himself some kind of lame justification about how their life was full of moving and knowing what others didn’t and being close, so that he wouldn’t think something was wrong for wanting things from someone related to him.
Back then, he thought Dean could read his mind the way he’d stare at Sam for a few minutes too long, or walk around in nothing but a towel for longer than necessary.
After Stanford, after Jess, the very idea of sex was unthinkable. Being close to someone, smiling and touching, the very idea of any of it, hurt. Besides, he liked order, liked doing things a certain way and when he’d been with Jess, he’d had that.
Sarah, with her new knowledge of haunted paintings, had been sweet and kind. He’d wished he’d gotten to know her better, but something inside him just wanted to ride away because that was easier.
Madison had been different: sweet, funny and courageous. She’d made his insides try and twist themselves around, so he’d went for it and it turned into something horrible that still felt like ash in the back of his mouth.
Dean was the ultimate, impossible, unreachable person that he wanted but he needed him like he needed oxygen and water, so he’d never even dared consider the possibility. He knew he could never handle a piteous, condemning look from Dean. But now things were different so why not? Brave new world and brave new him.
He sat down on Dean’s bed and only got a confused frown. His brother made a small squawking noise he’d probably deny when Sam kissed him. For a minute, Sam thought his brother was going to push him away, but then his mouth opened and they were kissing for the first time. Dean tasted sweet, like tangy pizza sauce and beer and it was better than any wet dream Sam had ever had.
He pressed harder and Dean seemed to melt as he let out a soft whimper and eased down further into the bed. Sam went with him and as he lay over his brother he ran one hand through Dean’s hair, soft and bristle-rough at the same time, while Dean kissed his jaw, his chin and his neck.
Clothes were taken off between kisses and licks that made them both groan and come back for more. Sam smiled to himself when his tongue in Dean’s navel made his brother laugh. He went further as he finally got Dean’s pants off. His own clothes were gone, strewn messily on the floor, a rare thing for him but no way was he going to stop now to fold clothes or tuck them into a laundry bag.
“Sam, oh god, so good, don’t stop, just…don’t.”
Sam nodded and licked a warm messy kiss onto Dean’s cock. The taste burst over his tongue and he went back for more, sucking, lapping and bobbing his head until Dean groaned, one hand in Sam’s hair. Come hit the back of his mouth and he swallowed quickly getting most of it as his brother pushed up between his lips.
The look on Dean’s face had him wiping his mouth and climbing up to kiss him before flipping him over onto his stomach. He dragged his tongue over Dean’s back, tracing scars he’d known for years and some that he hadn’t. Dean shivered as Sam licked the dip of his spine and bit the soft skin on his ass.
Sam moved Dean how he wanted him and knelt behind him, fingers slippery from little packets of lube that now lay scattered on the bed with them. One finger made Dean shudder and say something that was muffled by the pillow his face was pressed into. Two fingers had him eagerly pressing back into Sam’s hand.
Sam eased his fingers in and out; circling and twisting them until he felt it was enough. His hands gripped warm skin and hips as he pushed in with one long thrust. Before he thought about it, he gripped Dean’s short hair so his head was off the pillow and he heard the sounds that came out of his big brother’s mouth.
The now vocal noises and half formed whispers made him harder and he pulled out a little and pushed back in, missing the tight and heat that quickly. No one should feel this good, this slick and perfect. The cheap headboard began to knock against the wall and Sam remembered all the times throughout his life he’d heard the same sound from another room.
Sweat coated his skin as he watched Dean’s hands claw at the sheets while the muscles in his back rippled and shifted like he was about to become something else. He couldn’t last and just the thought of being able to do this again later, and tomorrow and the day after that, filled him with a mix of lust and love. His fingers gripped harder as he jack hammered into Dean, riding him down into the bed before coming, his mouth tasting like warm pennies after biting his bottom lip.
He lay there slightly out of breath and watched Dean watch him. Something seemed to swim behind Dean’s eyes in one blink to the next. Sam froze and looked closer. Dean jerked away from the hand on his chin. “What’s wrong with you?”
Sam let him go and studied his brother as Dean walked to his duffle bag and then to the bathroom.
He listened to the shower turn on and cut the TV on though he had no clue where the remote was. The news bored him, but he watched out of habit before changing the channel to something else. He wondered if he could get Dean to give him a blowjob later and just the thought of lips wrapped around him, tongue slick and teasing had him hard and ready.
The shower cut off and a few minutes later Dean appeared, looking at something on the floor, towel barely hanging on his hips. He climbed on the bed, between Sam’s legs and sucked him down, mouth hot and way more experienced at this than Sam ever would have guessed. His head bobbed and droplets of water rained down on Sam’s skin. He closed his eyes and threw his head back, tempted to stop Dean but really wanting him to keep going.
Soft slurping was the only sound in the room until he came with a broken off groan. Dean wiped his mouth and looked at him, lips shiny and swollen. Sam smiled at him before he used his powers to throw him against a wall. Dean didn’t struggle as Sam got up and pulled on a pair of jeans.
“Who are you?”
The thing pinned to the wall tilted it’s head sideways and studied him. “I’m Dean.”
“You’re not my brother. How did you know to come out of the bathroom and do that?” How did you know what I was thinking?”
It smiled, teeth bright in the dim light of the room. “You enjoyed it, you enjoyed it all.”
Sam concentrated and the thing screamed, blood welling up on its face and chest. “Who are you? Where’s my brother?”
It coughed blood and laughed. “I am your brother.”
It smiled again and licked blood from its lips like a cat lapped up milk. “I’ve just… been reborn in your image, Sammy. Made whole by your thoughts and your desires. I’m Dean, the Dean you want me to be.”
It pouted at him, the same pout-lost little boy combo that Dean used to win arguments and get between women‘s thighs. “Anything you want me to do, I’ll do. It’ll be just us and you don’t even have to tell me what you want. Just think it and it’s yours. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted, little brother?”
Sam stalked up to it and put his hand on its head. It screamed loudly until Sam made it stop and then there was just pitiful little whimpers. He felt like he was digging around in a bottomless trunk of sharp knives while blindfolded. He felt tiny pieces like fragile bubbles blown and floating around; memories and quirks, sayings and fierceness, all parts of Dean Winchester.
He pulled at them, found each part, some down so deep it was like he was searching the bottom of the ocean. He barely noticed as the body convulsed and green eyes stared at him, silently begging him for something. He paused and let go of his hold on its voice. “What?”
It panted and smiled like the very best sycophant. “You do this and no sex for youuuuuuu.” It coughed and got serious, trying to find the key to get Sam to stop. “No deep sharing and long talks, just me afraid to tell you anything of any significance, just me being stupid and risking my life because it’s such a worthless thing. I can love you like this, completely, and oh the fun we could have. No more doing what you don’t like. It’d be perfect.”
Sam held the pieces of his brother in his metaphorical hands and looked at the facsimile, brought back only half way and wrong at that. He smiled sadly. “But it wouldn’t be Dean.”
He squeezed and shoved power into the bubbles, hardening them to glass and then steel. His body burned and blood dripped from his nose before a white light threw him across the room. He got up on all fours up, weak and dazed and the first thing he heard was, “Why the hell am I naked?”
He giggled quietly as narrow feet appeared in his eyesight. “Why are you only half-dressed? Damnit, Sam, this better be some college prank of yours or your ass is kicked and bald by tomorrow!”
Sam flopped down on his bed and laughed; big gulps of breath laced with hysteria. At first Dean ignored him while he pulled on clothes, but as Sam kept gasping and staring at the ceiling he came over and sat down. Sam took his attention off the watermarks on the ceiling and looked at his brother. He still wanted to kiss him but decided that would be a bad idea.
Dean has his ‘mother hen’ face on and Sam looked forward to telling him that the next day. He flinched when Dean touched his face and his fingers came away wet. “You want to tell me what happened? This have anything to do with the crossroads stuff?”
“I thought you didn’t want to talk about that?”
Dean shrugged. “If it’s got you like this, then I’ll risk it.”
Sam sighed and sat up. Should he tell Dean what had happened? Everything? His inner voice quickly spoke up and voted no on the sex stuff.
“You died. A lot. More than you could imagine, in ways you couldn’t imagine. I had to live the same day over and over, watch you die over and over until I went out of my mind.”
Dean nodded and gestured for him to continue.
“It was the trickster. He said he’d stop and then it was finally the next day and you hadn’t died but then you did. Someone shot you and I brought you back.”
Dean froze. “What?”
Sam put a hand on Dean’s chest. He felt Dean’s heartbeat through the t-shirt. “I brought you back and I declared the crossroads deal null. If they come for you in a few months, then they’ll have a knockdown drag out fight on their hands. They gave you a year but you were just gone.” He laughed quietly until Dean put his hand over his. He met Dean’s eyes, and was embarrassed when his voice broke. “I missed you so much.”
Dean pulled him in closer and wrapped his arms around his back. Sam hugged him tight and closed his eyes.
The other thing was gone, part of Dean but not all of him and if Sam couldn’t live without Dean, he sure as hell couldn’t live with one that did what he said all the time.
Dean spoke, his breath warm against Sam‘s ear. “It’s okay, I’m here now and I’m not leaving you.” The fierce words comforted Sam all though he didn’t believe them, they were enough for now.
Later, Sam found the remote and let Dean have it. They joked and it was almost a typical night in a motel for them. Sam laughed while he thought about the kisses he remembered and his brother didn’t.
The want and need he’d seen on Dean’s face earlier were a part of his brother; he just had to work and find it and Sam was nothing if not stubborn and determined.
End
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Date: 2008-04-16 10:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-18 02:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-18 02:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-18 02:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-21 03:59 am (UTC)Brilliant.
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Date: 2008-04-22 04:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-30 09:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-19 06:22 am (UTC)Thank you for letting me know what parts of the story you liked. It's always exciting to find out what readers like.
I don't have plans to do a sequel right now but I never say never to one in the future.
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Date: 2008-05-17 05:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-19 06:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-19 10:45 am (UTC)