Give and Take
"I give you one last chance
You give me excuse after excuse"
-Roger McGough
A/N: This story is dark, like, look at all those sweet little plot bunnies aren- HOLY MOTHER OF GOD WHAT IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS PURE IS THAT! It's looking at me funny! Why is it looking at me like that?! Oh-ohno! AHHHHH!
Warnings: Cussing, rated M for non-explicit rape. Angst.
Italicized, video
Dean was tired and the deep tickle that sat in his mind was going to town. He needed to kill something and to do it outside of his brother's pissy, brooding, civilian presence. Hence him standing in Benny's motel room, Beretta loaded with silver and a Bowie strapped to his thigh. They'd found a group of vampires and werewolves living in harmony together. Of course, that meant an insane amount of kills that were being very well covered up. It was perfect, dangerous, and just like Purgatory. Dean needed to relive those moments, the purity of killing, blood falling and staining the ground and the constant rush of adrenaline. It left a person hollow, but it was the kind of hollow that allowed you to live with yourself, it took out all the good but it also took out all the bad, took away the pain and guilt.
Dean was mad at Sam, pissed beyond belief, however more than that he was hurt. He couldn't take anymore pain, couldn't live himself and the next best thing to a bullet to the head was living back in Purgatory where the only thing he had to worry about was kill or be killed. Benny though was putting a dent in that plan, where the hell was that bastard?
Dean sat down for the fifth time, body buzzing. He'd been waiting a while, Benny had met him here before then saying that he had to clear something up at the job he worked at, a little pub tucked away in Alabama. From how long it was taking, Dean had a feeling Benny was caught up with work. What the hell was he supposed to do in the meantime?
Moving over to the bag that Benny kept, Dean began snooping. He had time and energy, also he couldn't help but wonder what a vampire would keep with them. Benny had had the chance to settle into the motel, obviously using it as a more than temporary living arrangement. Clothing wasn't interesting and Benny didn't have much. Dean shut the drawers to the shitty dresser that was barely standing in the corner of the room. There were a few weapons tucked away in a duffel bag, nothing Dean hadn't seen and not of a quality to catch his eye.
It was the laptop which caught his interest. He didn't think Benny even knew how to use one, let alone would keep one personally. Dean opened it up. He wasn't extraordinarily tech savvy, that was more of Sam's field of expertise, apparently rooming with a computer science major had allowed Sam to pick up on quite a few tricks, ones he'd built on throughout their hunting career. Dean did know his way around though.
No internet connection, not even an application installed to open the web browser. No saved documents, the thing was nearly clean, except for a set of video logs that ranged over a year long period. The first one was dated maybe a month after he landed in purgatory, right around the time he met Benny. The rest picked up about six months after that, right around the time Dean returned, and continued for the next seven months. In fact, one was quite recent, only a week and a half old. In total their were eight.
That was, strange. Dean hesitated only a moment in thinking about breaching Benny's privacy. For some reason the dates bothered him though, and respectful friend lost out to the hunter he'd been raised to be. Dean clicked on the first one.
It was of Sam and Benny, standing in a motel room. Dean stiffened, this did not look good. He clicked play.
"This is in agreement," Sam said.
He was standing in front of the camera, profile showing. Benny stood opposite of him.
"Aye," Benny replied.
Sam coughed, glancing quickly at the video.
"You can start," Sam prompted.
Benny looked to the camera, "This really necessary? Recording it? I mean, I may be a vampire but I keep a deal, word by word is good enough. I trust ye to keep your side and ye trust me to keep mine."
Sam shook his head, body stiff, coiled to fight.
"No, I have a habit of getting screwed over by supernatural things, so we're going to document this so that any civil disagreement can be dealt with promptly," Sam replied.
"And uncivil?" Benny asked.
"I chop your head off or you rip my throat out, whoever gets there first I suppose," Sam said coldly.
There was a moment of silence.
"Aye then, I'll say it," Benny acquiesced.
"I, Benjamin Lafitte, give solemn oath, to enter Purgatory, find Dean Winchester and upon not dying, to retrieve him from there using the exact spell Sam Winchester has supplied for me. I will not harm Dean Winchester, nor tell him of this contract," Benny said.
"I, Sam Winchester, give solemn oath, to put myself in Benjamin Lafitte's debt to be paid once a month, in any form he so desires, for the total of eighteen months, the task is to take no longer than 48 hours, I will not refuse any deed asked for so long as it does not lead to the injury or death of Dean Winchester, or the injury or death of any innocent persons," Sam replied.
Sam and Benny clasped forearms, grips firm. They released each other.
"I suppose we cut my head off now?" Benny said.
Sam gave a nod, already moving toward the camera.
"We'll need somewhere to keep your body that Dean can-"
The video ended. Dean's jaw was clenched so hard his teeth were shooting with pain. His hands were clasped together, white knuckled and his short, unkempt nails digging into the callused flesh of his skin. The next video was counting down already, twenty seconds given until it played. Dean couldn't process what he'd just seen, couldn't comprehend it. Anger was stirring, pure fury, the sharp, bitter bite of betrayal and worst of all, more guilt. Sam, God Sam.
Ten seconds till it started. How could Sam lie to him? How could Benny really be a backstabbing bastard? Really though, given his life, how could Benny not be a backstabbing bastard? Grief hit for a moment, so potent it threatened to overwhelm him, it was a drop diluted quickly by Dean's growing rage. The next video started.
It was another motel room.
"Why are we documenting this?" Benny's voice sounded on the camera, but Sam was still adjusting it and all that could be seen was flannel.
It settled and the flannel moved away so the bed of the motel was seen. Benny was sitting there, arms loosely set on his thighs and his back slightly hunched. Sam sat down next to Benny.
"Because, we need evidence, I'm giving and meeting my part of the deal. Dean doesn't get hurt," Sam said.
"I wouldn't, not Dean, he's a good man," Benny said quietly, voice pitched in attempts for reconciliation.
"But you still want your deed, so we're going to do this," Sam replied, cold fury flowering his tone.
Benny's body language spoke to an attempt to look safe, and reconciling. There was guilt lingering there too, the guilt of someone taking something even as they knew they shouldn't. They both sat there, the moment floating, reaching no point of further movement.
"Get on with it," Sam grit out.
It prompted Benny into action. Benny turned to Sam.
"Best to do it on the arm, upper if you don't mind, you said your brother is less likely to see," Benny instructed.
Sam gave a grunt in response and began unbuttoning his shirt. He pulled it off and was left in a white under shirt. He rolled a sleeve up and then offered his arm. Benny grabbed it, teeth protracting and then sinking into flesh. Sam's face tightened at the bite but he didn't make a sound. Minutes ticked by and Sam grew pale, his body started to lean and though he fought it, Benny didn't. The vampire eased him onto the bed and continued feeding. Another minute later and Benny came up. Sam looked so dazed, eyes glazed over with blood loss and body beginning to tremble minutely.
"Hey, hey," Benny said, patting Sam's face to see how well he would respond, "no going and dying, alright, no need for shock, why don't ye talk to me."
Sam nodded jerkily but he didn't say anything.
"C'mon, anything at all, best to keep talking while I get you something to drink, tell me why?" Benny said, starting to get up.
Sam blinked in confusion.
"Why what?" He rasped out.
Benny disappeared from the view of the camera but he could be heard moving something around.
"What makes a man worth letting a vampire use you as a juice box?" Benny asked, genuine curiosity in his voice.
Sam's head weakly moved from side to side, "you-" he breathed in, "you wouldn't understand."
Benny reappeared with a banana and a container of chocolate protein milk.
"Tell me," Benny prompted.
Sam turned his head and looked at Benny.
"I'd do anything for Dean, he's my brother," Sam said, eyes steady and dead serious.
Benny went quiet.
"T-turn off the camera, turn it off now," Sam said, eyes clenching shut in pain, both physical and mental.
Benny nodded, setting the banana and drink down. His figure occluded the view of the camera and a moment later it clicked off.
The video ended and immediately the third one popped up, a twenty second countdown once again showing. It hit Dean that the video he'd just watched was dated before he went to meet Sam, Benny had gotten to his brother before him. In fact, it was just a day before. It meant that when Dean had met up with Sam his brother had been suffering from blood loss. Dean couldn't watch anymore, he slammed the laptop shut and stood up, hand dragging over his face and then pulling at his hair. What was he supposed to do?
Benny wasn't back yet. Dean didn't want to be here for when the vampire did come back because Dean was ready to kill and there was no way he would restrain himself from chopping Benny's head off. Dean seized the laptop and stepped out, headed for the car he'd jacked. He'd left the Impala with Sam after informing Sam that he was going to spend time hunting with Benny. His brother had argued, sharp, angry and if Dean was being honest hurt, but Dean had brushed him off with angry words that were meant to bite. Sam had bit back, but it didn't really matter, Dean had already stopped listening.
Once in the car Dean slammed his hands into the steering wheel, spitting out cusses and feeling hopelessly stuck. He'd messed things up again, he'd been lied to, manipulated, used. It felt old hat, like a mindless trick used to make him suffer, see how much the Winchesters can be made to hurt. The past eight years had logged quite a bit in his book, the death of his father, forty years in Hell, the loss of his brother two times, meeting the love of his life and having to leave her, the death of his other father figure, betrayal after betrayal by people he cared about fiercely. He wasn't one to complain about his lot in life, he'd known from the time he was four and carried his brother out of a fire that life wasn't going to be easy. But at some point it became too much, the weight bore down and it broke the shoulders of the greatest man. He was not Atlas, he couldn't hold up the world.
Dean turned the car on and began driving, he was several states away from where he left Sam, considering what he'd just watched the tiny lurking fear that Sam would be gone was unjustified. Sam hadn't checked out, his brother had checked in and then decided to go broke making sure Dean stayed with him. Dean couldn't figure out what hurt more, the idea that Sam wouldn't look for him at all or the fact that his brother was being hurt. After being angry and hurt and so utterly cruel to his brother it seemed absurd that he wanted it to go back to when Sam wasn't the one being hurt.
Dean's phone began ringing. He glanced at the ID and saw that it was Benny. He flipped the phone open and held it to his ear.
"What the fuck do you want?" Dean said.
"Dean, you saw," Benny stated.
"Yeah, I did, don't call me again, don't go near me or my brother," Dean said before quickly flipping the phone shut.
He hadn't needed a threat, Benny knew what he was capable of.
Hours later of driving and night had fallen. Dean knew he could probably just drive through the night, but he wasn't quite ready to face Sam. Whether he wanted to or not, he felt responsible for watching the next six videos. He needed to know what his brother had suffered, be able to look him in the eye and manage this.
Dean stopped at a motel and got a room. He didn't even think of a bar, instead settling himself at the table, the laptop opened in front of him. Dean ordered food and then opened the computer. Its life was at half and the video was still on countdown. Now open it continued ticking down. Then it started.
Like all the others it was in a motel.