End Game
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters/Pairings: Evil!Sam/Dean, John, YED
Warnings: Violence, Non-Con, EvilSam, Rape
Kink: collar, slavery, rape
Summary: AU from 1st Season, Dean and John try to find Sam after he disappears from Stanford.
It was just after the lady in white in Jericho, California that Dean got the call. He and John had been hitting it pretty hard and they had let all contact with Sam go to the wayside. So it was a complete surprise when a woman from the university called his cell one morning looking for his brother.
Dean rolled over in bed snagging the cell off the night stand and glancing at the other double bed in the room. It was empty and his dad's keys and wallet were missing off the table as well. That meant coffee run and Dean was at least grateful for the impending dose of caffeine.
The woman's voice was shrill, strident in his ears and Dean winched raking his fingers through his hair and down to scrub at his eyes. "Hey…lady would you give me a break here. It's seven in the morning…What do you mean most people are up at seven. Well, I'm not most people."
Suddenly Dean bolted upright in the bed hunching his shoulders over the phone as if that might make what the unidentified woman on the other end was saying make more sense. "What do you mean he's been out of classes?"
Her voice slowed and she began again more loudly as if he might be mentally challenged, "Your brother, Samuel Winchester, left this number as his emergency contact. He's been out of classes for a week and he has missed numerous important assignments. If he does not have a family emergency he could be placed on academic probation. Get him to call me at the earliest convenient time."
"Yeah, okay. I'll have him do that."
He was showered and dressed sitting at the small table in the room when his father pushed open the door. John dropped a cardboard cup carrier and a bag containing two Styrofoam food boxes on the table rifling through the bag for his breakfast. He cast a glance at Dean then frowned.
"You better eat up. We need to hit the road; Bobby called me this morning…"
That in and of itself was enough to shake Dean from his brooding, "Bobby called you?"
"Yeah," John said taking a gulp of the coffee and winching when it went down hot. "I know, but an old friend of ours, Daniel Elkins, turned up dead a week ago. He just heard about it; looks like something tore him apart. Nobody knows what killed him, but it or they wrecked his place and took something. A box out of a safe and I think I know what it was."
Dean tugged the box over flipping back the lid and listlessly began digging through the eggs and hash brown potatoes. He stabbed the plastic fork in his father's direction, "So what was it?"
John settled back in his chair, "A gun. An old Colt made by Samuel colt himself. On the night that Halley's Comet was overhead, and those men died in the Alamo. It's supposed to be blessed and can kill anything evil."
"So somebody wanted the gun? Why?"
"Hell if I know. What's wrong with you? You look like hell."
"The school called me. Sammy's missed a bunch of classes and it looks like he might flunk out."
John's eyebrows knotted and he thrust his fork into his food with more force than was strictly necessary, "That's not like Sammy."
"I know, I'm getting a weird feeling about this."
His father snorted, "We'll go check it out. See if he's just shacked up with some girl…"
Dean huffed out a breath, "Come on Dad, this is Sam we're talking about."
"So that makes the girl less likely. You think somethin's wrong?"
John scrubbed at his beard with his fingers. Finally he sighed knowing that Dean would demand they go look for Sam first when he thought that going to check out what killed Daniel was more important. Still if Sam was missing because he was in trouble then that made him their first priority. His eyes drifted closed for a minute then he dropped his cup on the table. Dean was staring at him from the corner of his eyes not daring to even look his father directly in the face, and John cringed inwardly at that. Did the kid honest believe that his father cared so little for either of his sons.
"We'll head out to Palo Alto check out the school. We can swing by Elkins place on the way back." Dean's look of quiet gratitude shouldn't have hit John so hard, but it damn near knocked the wind out of him.
They made good time, not that far to sunny southern California from where they were to begin with, and pulled into the main gate of the Stanford campus at sun down. Dean really doesn't comment to his dad when John knows the way to Sam's dorm. Doesn't tell him that he had been there many times himself, on the few occasions that the two older Winchesters split up for individual hunts. But fifteen minutes after they come onto campus both the Impala and John's truck are parked against the curb and the two men are standing outside a burned husk of a building.
Dean casually leans against the side of his car, hand idly rubbing the smooth finish then jerks his chin at the blacked brick and wood beams.
"What the hell do you suppose happened?"
John shoots him a look rife with sarcasm and snorts, "I don't know Dean. Maybe a fire?"
Dean gives his dad as good as he got and clears his throat, "Yeah but from what?"
Stalking into the middle of the street John waits for a car to pass then lingers a little allowing Dean to catch up to him. Raking his fingers through his hair John manages to do a good imitation of a concerned parent and heads for the construction workers milling around the front corner of the grassy slope of the hill.
The hardhat looks at both of them then turns his attention back to the pile of rubble he's raking. John leans over the black and yellow 'crime scene' tape and taps the guy on the arm. Hardhat turns around and John offers him a smile.
"My boy lives here. He asked me to come by and see of they were letting anyone inside to look for stuff."
The guy shrugs, "No point…nothin' much left in the place. After they got the body out that is."
Dean's heart squeezed in his chest but John shot him a warning glare and he kept his lips sealed shut.
"Yeah, damned shame that uhh… Which one was the dead kid in?"
"I don't know but her boyfriend went wild when they pulled her out of there. Screaming all kinds of crazy shit when they took him to the hospital. Stuff about how the girl was on the ceiling. He must have been out of his head. Hasn't been back all week."
The guy shrugged, "Tell your kid there ain't nothin' left to come back for."
As John turned to leave the guy's hand came up catching him by the elbow. John swung around glancing down and the guy dropped his arm liked it was made of lead. "Real funny though, it was just this one apartment."
Scratching his head Dean walked with his father to the vehicles. "He said they took Sammy to the hospital. Which one do you think they'd go to?"
"There was a sign for the Regional Medical Center on the road into the campus. It's the closest one so I'm betting that would be the place."
At the hospital John and Dean found the doctor who had treated Sam. But he wasn't much help. John stood impatiently beside the nurse's desk while the doctor flipped through a thin manila folder. Finally, he looked up at John and shrugged.
"There's not much here. He didn't stay. His uncle came and picked him up, and they left together."
John seized on the word 'uncle', "Who picked him up?"
The doctor frowned as if he was talking to an idiot, "His uncle."
"What'd he look like?" Dean asked and the doctor swung around looking at him. His shoulder hitched in another shrug and he waved one hand.
"I don't know average, kinda of short and slim, sandy hair, blue eyes."
Dean glanced at his father. While Bobby had sandy hair, what could be seen of it under his ever-present ball cap, he was neither short nor slim. John's eyes flicked toward the door and Dean nodded minutely. Offering the doctor what he hoped was a grin John shook his hand.
"Thanks doc."
Outside the front doors of the building they lingered on the stairs. John shoved his hands in his pockets leaning back against the stair railing. "That was useless"
Dean took a deep breath, and then turned to face his father, "Not exactly. We know Sam was here, and that he left. But with who or why?"
John pushed away from the rail, "You know Elkins place is in Colorado. That's a couple of day's hard drive from here. And he was killed after this all went down. I'm thinkin' that his death is related."
"You don't think Sammy had anything to do with that? Come on, Dad."
Two days later they were standing outside of Daniel Elkins little cabin in Manning, Colorado. The front door was hanging off the hinges and even the few strips of black and yellow 'crime scene' tape were sagging to the ground. Dean stepped over the tape and John followed him inside.
The cabin was trashed. Nothing looked like it had escaped the destruction, not even the wall safe hanging open inside the little bedroom off the main entry.
John knelt down in front of the safe and scraped out the remaining contents. Several boxes filled with scrapes from Daniel's life, bits of paper, photographs but nothing really important.
He settled back at a loss for a moment then John turned glimpsing a bit of golden hued wood beneath a smashed lamp. Kicking the lamp away with his boot John stooped over and dragged the box to him.
It was old, wood probably oak with heavy iron hinges. Not something manufactured in some modern factory. This box was hand made lined with blue velvet in the shape of a gun.
"Dad!"
Dean's voice caught John by surprise and he almost dropped the box. Folding it closed he rose and met his older son in the other room beside the front door. Dean was grasping something small and metal in his left hand. He thrust it out at his father and John's gazed dropped from Dean's face to his hand. He was holding his brother's watch.
Suddenly the shrill sound of Dean's phone caught both their attention. Dean fumbled in his pocket flipping the phone open. Bobby's voice came on the other end, worn and touched with fear, the older man launched right into his tirade without letting Dean even speak.
"Your daddy there boy?"
Dean nodded then flinched, "Yep, you want to talk to him?"
"Not particularly, but I reckon I ought too."
John took the phone that Dean held out to him with a grimace. He held it to his ear and said curtly, "Yeah what have ya got?"
"There's a shit load of omens out there in some little back water cemetery in Wyoming, John. I think it has something to do with that gun you've been lookin' for. I did some thinkin' on ole Sam Colt and dug up a map of that railroad track he laid right after the gun got lost. Long story short it's a giant Devils' Trap and that little cemetery is smack dab in the middle."
"So Dean and I will head on out that way. We'll call you if we need you." John snapped the phone shut and passed it back to Dean. He shot his son a grim look then nodded to the car.
"Wyoming?" Dena asked and John nodded heading to his truck.
The gate of the cemetery was open, all but hanging off its hinges and John just bumped it open with the tuck. The metal squealed as the rusty iron swung inward and he pulled the truck off the side of the road waiting for a few minutes until the Impala appeared on the horizon.
It took Dean a few more minutes to pull his car up beside his father's truck, and he sighed when he saw the older man leaning against the front bumper, the faint glow of a small flashlight creating a fading circle of light at his feet.
There was no movement anywhere in the small decrepit graveyard but for the two men. John paced the perimeter of the plot restlessly while Dean surveyed the small mausoleum placed right in the junction of the Devil's Trap. When his search turned up nothing he hung his head in defeat and went to find his father.
The two men stood huddled together against the cool night air beside the vehicles. John leaned back his hands tucked into his pockets turning his face to the night sky. Dean followed his gaze.
"Do you think Sammy is here?"
John nodded, "Yeah, I do. I don't know why but that yellowed eyed bastard brought him here. He must be holding Sam hostage."
Dean nodded, "To get us here?"
"I reckon," John said. "I can't see any other reason."
The sharp hiss of the older man's breath caught Dean's attention. His father was lying, he was sure of it. His dad thought that Sam was here for a reason and Dean got a sinking feeling that he believed that Sam might not be as helpless as they thought. He was just about to call his father on the lie when movement from across the cemetery caught his attention.
The two Winchesters stood back to back and watched as a small army of men and women approached. The demons were too many and they were just the two of them alone. Dean cast a quick glance at John's face and saw the resignation. Besides the demons were likely taking them to wherever Sammy was being held and Dean wanted to see his little brother, needed to see him.
There was a house on the horizon just a few miles across the field from the old cemetery. The demons surrounded them herding Dean and John across the graveyard out a side gate and into the grassy meadow.
The first pale threads of sunlight were spilling through the trees when they made to the house. And Dean was struck by just how ordinary the place looked. It was an old two story farm house, rough wood badly in need of painting, but hardly the portal to Hell he was expecting. But then again why would the demons want to bring undue attention to themselves, and a smoking black iron door lit by fire and spewing brimstone wasn't exactly subtle.
The demons herded the two men inside and Dean felt the tension leech out of his spine like he was a puppet whose strings had been cut. There was a figure standing in the hallway just inside the doorway. John looked up then stumbled to a halt, cringing. The tall slender body glided forward smoothly and John felt his stomach clench in fear.
"You and Dean, Dad? Just like it used to be"
John nodded his head absently casting a brief glance at his younger son. It hurt him that Sam was so fundamentally unchanged. That for all intents and purposes this creature standing in front of John was still the young man he had loved and cared for all his life. Until Sam stepped in the bright, warm light of the window and John had to look at the coal black eyes. John flinched.
"Yeah, just like it used to be Sam."
The younger man lifted a hand sliding the tips of his fingers under his father's chin, tilting his head back forcing John's eyes back to the younger man's face. Sam grinned.
"I'm glad, Dean needs you so much."
There was something cold and lifeless in his tone and John tried to take a step back. Suddenly Sam's hand lashed out. John's body rose up off the floor and slammed back into the wall. His leg took the brunt of the collision and John's vision grayed out from the pain.
When his sight cleared Sam was standing over him, too close, and John tried to struggle a few feet away. His back came to rest against the wall, as he cradled his broken arm against his chest and Sam bent over.
"I hope that you and Dean aren't planning anything unfortunate, Dad."
"No, of course not Sam."
"That's good, Dad." Sam twisted his fingers into John's hair; tugging and his father lifted his head. Staring up at the black eyes of the demon who used to be his son John sighed.
Smiling Sam carded his fingers through his father's hair. He could feel the tension in the older man's rigid shoulders and watched as John tried vainly to get his left arm working enough to bring both hands up to press against his son's thighs. Sam leaned in letting the clean warm scent of his father's body wash over him.
His eyes never leaving John's face Sam dropped a hand to his father's chin, letting his thumb slide over John's lips. With a tight smile Sam jabbed his thumb into the corner of John's mouth prying it open. His father gagged as the digit intruded into his mouth caressing his tongue.
"Call me Sammy, Dad, just like you used too."
John worked his tongue around the thumb in his mouth then sighed, "No of course not… Sammy."
The grin on his son's face grew even wider and Sam let his eyes go black again feeling his father cringe away from him. He jerked John's head back, "That's real good, Dad."
Sam turned his attention to the other man being held between two solid figures dressed in combat fatigues. Dean jerked his chin at his younger brother, "Sammy what the hell is this?"
Sam grunted the smile draining away from his face, "Funny you should say that Dean. I finally got it…All those years of running and I finally realized that I didn't want to run anymore."
A figure appeared in the room sauntering slowly up to stand beside Sam. Dean winched he had not seen the small man with sandy hair and blue eyes before but he knew who he was. John cringed scrabbling to rise to his feet and Sam slowly spun around sending his father reeling with a single blow to the head.
The demon uttered a sharp laugh then trotted to John's side, standing over the man on the ground. He knelt, fingers slipping beneath the man's chin, turning his head up. "Well, Sammy-boy why don't you show daddy just how glad you re to see him."
Sam grinned stooping down, "Did you miss me, Daddy?"
Dean flinched, "Sam don't…you've got to fight it. Don't do it. Don't hurt him."
Rage flashed across Sam's face, "You little shit! You always took his side. Just once, Dean, you could have stood up for me. Just once you could have put my feelings ahead of his, but you were always Daddy's good little solider. Sammy was just the tag along, the excess baggage."
"That's not true, Sammy. My whole life I protected you. I took care of you. And you just walked away like it meant nothing. You walked away like you didn't care at all."
Sam flinched rising to his feet he stumbled a few steps to his brother's side, "No, that's not true Dean. I walked away because I loved you. I loved you more than I should have, but it's all right now. It okay because I can have what I always wanted, and we can be together for always."
Dean flinched when his younger brother moved to stand over him. Sam's big fingers worked their way into the loose fabric at the neck of Dean's shirt, slipping inside stroking over the smooth golden skin. Dean jerked away but Sam grasped his shirt hauling him around bodily.
"Don't do that. I love you, Dean."
"Dude," the older man hissed, "Come on, little bro, what's with all this touchy-feely crap? Man up."
Sam glared at Dean stepping close, letting his hand slide down his brother's arm and come to rest at his waist, "Don't do that. Don't belittle my feelings. You should be careful Dean."
"Or what, Sammy?"
Sam jerked his head toward the other side of the room where John knelt on the floor the yellow-eyed demon standing behind him. The demon's fingers twisted into the longer hair at the back of his father's head and Dean could see the older man wince, but John kept from crying out. Sam cast a sly look down at Dean's face.
"Of, course if you don't want my affections maybe now would be a good time to reacquaint myself with dear old daddy."
Dean shifted eyes going wide, "Sammy don't…"
"Then we'll try this again."
Leaning forward Sam raked his fingers up Dean's chest tips coming to rest just under his chin, "Do you love me?"
"You know I do, Sammy. Come on…don't do this man," Dean's voice cracked and he drew a deep shuddering breath. "Don't…"
Sam's fingers traced along the edge of the older man's jaw coming to rest on his lips. With a smile the younger Winchester brushed through his brother's hair then down his cheek to his neck. The sound of Dean's t-shirt ripping was unnaturally loud in the still air.
Jerking his head away from Sam's hands Dean rolled over and onto his knees crawling across the floor. Sam caught him with no trouble slamming a fist into his brother's back. John struggled to rise trying to knock the demon's hands away from his body but Azazel grabbed the older hunter throwing him against the wall. John sagged down and the demon closed his fists in the man's shirt hauling him bodily to his knees.
"Keep your mouth shut John or I'm sure me or Sammy could make good use of it. Just watch I want you to see this John. I want you to know just how badly you fucked up, buddy."
"Sam," John crocked through cracked dried lips. "Sammy don't do this, please."
As Sam dragged Dean across the ground he began stripping his brother's clothes off. By the time he had Dean laying motionless on the floor he was naked. Sam grunted ripping his shirt off and flinging it across the floor.
With trembling arms Dean struggled to his hands and knees. Groaning he dragged his leg behind him as he struggled toward his father. The demon holding John in place grinned as Sam caught his brother by the shoulder. Grinning Sam's big hands closed around Dean's neck squeezing and the older Winchester moaned in pain.
"I've wanted to hear you moan for so long now Dean. Too bad you can't just give in, let it happen. In the long run it will hurt so much less."
"No way, man. You're my brother and I love you for that reason, but I'll never cave in Sam…Never."
"Have it your way Dean. I'll get what I want anyway."
Sam clawed at the zipper on his jeans and the fabric slid down his thighs. Dean grunted when his brother's hand grabbed his ankle dragging him forward. Dropping onto the trembling body beneath him Sam slammed one arm across Dean's neck holding his head down.
Dean clawed at Sam's arm with one hand and tugged at his hair with the other. Sam dropped his thigh for a brief second and punched Dean in the temple. The older man sagged as his head spun. Then Sam's hand found purchase on Dean's hip pulling his legs apart. Dean screamed when his brother breeched his body, screamed and fought pounding on Sam's back with his fist but the younger Winchester only laughed. Finally, with a shout he came.
John sat against the wall of the room, one hand cuffed in a metal ring anchored to the floor. He slumped over watching as his younger son dressed himself stepping over the battered and bloody body lying on the floor. Dean shuddered once and Sam reached down lifting his head and placing a gentle kiss on his brother's forehead.
"I have to go out now. I have things that I have to do. But I'm leaving you in charge here, Dean. My friends…" Sam cocked his head at the demons standing in the door of the room. "My friends will look after you…and Dad."
He rose to his feet but then Sam turned. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a black leather collar. "Oh I forgot I have a present for you."
Dragging his brother's limp body up from the floor Sam carefully fastened the collar around Dean's neck. Gently Sam hauled Dean to the wall beside John.
"Here, Dean, you can keep Dad company." Sam smiled patting Dean's head and the older man moaned low in his throat. "I'll be back soon."
John hissed, "Dean come on boy. Look at me." But Dean merely rolled to his knees, kneeling on the cold floor. His fingers traced the leather collar. His shoulders slumped Dean moaned again, face blank, lips slack.
John watched his older son, pain welling in his chest. He tried to rouse Dean from his near catatonic state but gave up when the younger man wobbled onto his haunches staring out the window. John cringed when a thin line of drool slipped past Dean's battered and bruised lips.
John followed Dean's gaze. He was just tall enough to see above the bottom sill of the window and he gasped. Somehow it was twilight again, although where the daylight hours had gone John couldn't say.
There was movement in the outer rooms although no one came to check on him and Dean. The movement seemed purposeful and John didn't want to think about what that might mean. Then to sound of the door opening carried to his ears. He and Dean sat in silence for sometime. John kept casting glances at his older son, but all Dean did was mumble to himself while he stroked the leather of the collar. John huddled in on himself eyes watching as his son's long fingers pulled and tugged at the black leather. Then John's cheeks burned when he realized that Dean had an erection.
Dragging his eyes away from his older boy John leaned back and wondered how long it would be before they found out what Sammy and the demon were doing. His eyes widened as a red glow that had nothing to do with sunset roiled on the horizon. Somehow John didn't think that he had all that long to wait.
The End