Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own Supernatural. If I did, Destiel would definitely be cannon by now. Hopefully it happens soon though!
Warning! There are very graphic scenes in this story, including sex for money and cutting, (Not in the same scene). If that bothers you, please hit the back button and find another story to read. Thank you.
"The job is going to take longer than I thought. I only had time to stop by and pay for a longer stay." The words were rushed out, the man speaking them in a hurry to get back to what he was doing.
Dean frowned, glancing over to where his 12 year old brother was sitting on one of the beds watching T.V. "But when are you going to be back?" He asked quietly, trying not to sound worried.
John didn't say anything for a few moments, then replied. "A few weeks. Three max. Look, Dean, I've got to go. Watch out for Sam." He hung up, leaving Dean with a sinking feeling in his gut. They didn't have enough money left to live on for three weeks. Hell, they'd be lucky if they could last for three more days, and that was if Dean saved all his food for Sam. His little brother was growing up, he needed all the food he could get. He sighed and closed the phone, placing it on the table before running his hands through his hair and thinking.
"When's Dad gonna be here?" Sammy piped up from his place on the bed, staring at Dean with a curious look. Dean started, not knowing Sam had been staring at him since John had hung up. He thought furiously for an answer, before just going for the truth.
"Not for another few weeks. The case is taking longer than he thought." He said, walking over and sitting on the second bed.
Sam looked disappointed. "Oh. He promised to be back tonight though."
Dean sighed again before turning his eyes to the T.V., disappointment filling him too. "I know, Sammy. Sometimes things change though." Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sam wiping at his eyes and trying to hide it from him. Disappointment was quickly washed away by the frustration and anger at his father that set in for making his little brother cry. He bit his lower lip and then stood up and headed to the cabinets to search for some dinner for Sam.
"Hey, how about some Spaghetti O's for dinner, huh? They're your favorite." He asked, grabbing a bowl and filling it with the little o's and meatballs and putting it in the microwave to heat up. He peered over his shoulder to see Sam smiling and nodding his head. Relief flooded through him now that Sam wasn't as upset anymore. "Cool. They should be ready in a minute, let me get you some milk for them. Gotta make sure you get enough milk so you can be super strong and awesome like me."
Sam snorted and rolled his eyes, going over to sit at the table. "Whatever, Dean."
Dean narrowed his eyes, pointing the spoon for Sam's food at him. "Hey. I am awesome. And go wash your hands before you eat. Way unsanitary." Sam got up from the table, sighing as he went and headed to the sink in the bathroom to wash his hands. When he got back, his food was done and waiting for him, along with his milk. Sam smiled brightly at Dean and dug into his food happily. Dean smiled back, and sat down from across from him, arms crossed on the table. It took Sam a moment to notice Dean wasn't eating anything. Confusion crossed his face.
"Dean? Why aren't you eating, too?" He asked.
Dean shrugged. "I'm not hungry." He answered back, completely ignoring his rumbling stomach. Actually, he was starving, not having eaten much in the past few days, since he gave most of it to Sam, but Sam didn't need to know that.
Sam slowly put his spoon back in the bowl and pushed it towards Dean. "Are you sure? You need to eat, too, Dean."
Dean pushed them back to Sam. "No, Sammy, I'm really not hungry right now. If I get hungry, I'll eat something. I made those for you anyway."
Sam hesitantly took them back and continued eating, until they were all gone. Dean grabbed the bowl and took it over to the sink to wash it, and did the same with Sam's cup when he was done with it. They stayed up for a few more hours, watching T.V. and talking, until Sam fell asleep, leaving Dean alone to his thoughts about what he was going to do about their money issue.
Four days later, and Dean still had no idea what to do. They only had a handful of cereal left and no milk to go with it. They were completely out of food and drinks, Sam was hungry, and Dean was dizzy from lack of food. He couldn't go steal anything from the gas station or the store because he had already done that; it was too risky to go back and do it again, he might get caught this time. He couldn't go bet at pool or poker, he didn't have any money to do it with and he wasn't exactly the best at that yet. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He didn't have much of a choice. He'd have to do it.
He waited until he was sure Sam was deeply asleep before he picked up his bag and headed into the bathroom. He took a quick shower, then pulled out his tightest pants and shirt and put them on. Looking in the mirror, he tilted his head from side to side before deciding to run his fingers through his hair to spike it. Glancing one more time, he nodded at his reflection and sprayed some cologne on before heading out of the bathroom and stashing his bag back under his bed. Then he took the hotel room key, checked on Sam one more time, and headed out the door, locking it behind him.
He walked a few blocks away, close enough to get to Sam if he needed him, but far enough away so that his younger brother didn't see him. He waited on the corner, leaning against a wall while trying to look attractive. It wasn't long after he got there that a car pulled up and rolled down their window, revealing a good looking man in his thirties with brown eyes and blonde hair.
"Hey there gorgeous, you looking for some company?" The man asked, leaning out his window a little.
Dean smirked and sauntered up to the car. "Yeah I am. It'll cost you though." He purred, slowly licking his lips and giving him a once over. The man nodded his head and unlocked his car.
"Get in."
Dean stepped around to the passenger side door and slid in, turning to look at the man beside him. The guy pulled out his wallet and looked at Dean, raising an eyebrow. "Three hundred for just sex, one hundred for oral, and anything else can be discussed." He told him. The man nodded and handed over three hundred dollars, before driving to the hotel and renting them a room. Luckily, it wasn't near Sam and Dean's room.
They went in and Dean walked up to him, sliding his hands up the man's chest, then slowly undoing the buttons on his shirt. He looked up to him and smiled coyly as he slipped off the man's shirt. "So. Do you have a name to go with that pretty face of yours?" Dean asked, while nipping lightly at the other man's neck, causing him to moan.
He nodded. "Oliver. What's yours?" He placed his hands low on Dean's hips, pulling him closer.
"Mark. Nice to meet you Oliver." He replied before placing his lips on Oliver's, kissing him roughly, and running his fingers through his hair. Oliver kissed him back, forcing his tongue into Dean's mouth and exploring. Dean faked a moan of appreciation, grinding his hips forward against Oliver's, causing the blonde to growl and slip his hands around to Dean's ass and squeezing. Oliver pulled back gasping for air, his eyes glazed with lust. He reached to tug Dean's shirt off and then undid the younger man's pants while Dean kicked off his shoes and socks. Oliver pulled back to undo and take off the rest of his clothes, giving Dean time to do the same. When Dean was completely unclothed, Oliver's eyes were slowly checking out every inch of him while he rubbed his growing erection before the man pushed him onto the bed behind them and kissed him while grinding their erections together. Dean let out a groan against his will, his body reacting to the stimulus even though his mind didn't want to do it. Oliver pulled away to reach down into his jean pocket for a condom and lube. Quickly, he readied himself before he flipped Dean on his stomach and pushed into him, letting out a groan as he did so. Dean choked back a scream as the pain flared through him. It wasn't as bad as some of the damage done to him by the things his dad hunted, but it still hurt like hell. Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes but he wiped them away quickly and let Oliver do what he wanted.
The sounds of grunts and skin slapping on skin filled the room for a while, until Oliver suddenly froze and let out a cry of "Mark!" before he collapsed on top of Dean, panting. Oliver pulled out and turned to lay on his back after he caught his breath, taking the condom off and throwing it in the trash. Dean stayed there for a moment, disgust filling him before he pushed it down and stood up, wincing as pain shot up his spine. He quickly grabbed his clothes and shoes, pulling them and hurrying out the door to head back to the wall he had been at earlier and try and gain another customer.
When he got back at six in the morning he had made twelve hundred dollars altogether, enough for them to last on until his dad got back. Sam was still sleeping, so he grabbed his bag and rushed into the shower to try and rid himself of the feeling of disgust, mortification, and revulsion. He turned the water on as hot as it would go, not caring that it stung the various marks on his body and turned his skin bright red as soon as he was under it. He washed himself three times before he felt slightly better, but as soon as he was out of the shower and caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror, it all came back and he rushed over to the toilet to throw up. Since he hadn't had anything to eat in the past few days though, nothing came up and he was left gagging on bile. When he was done, he shakily stood up and brushed his teeth and got dressed before heading out into the other room and laying on his bed so he could try and get some sleep until Sam woke up.
Unfortunately, sleep didn't come to him like he hoped. He laid in the bed for three hours but with no avail. His head was filled with the images of what happened that night and he couldn't get it to stop. His eyes filled with tears and he held back a sob, trying not to cry and wake up Sam. Damn it, he was stronger than this! He'd had to do it to take care of Sam; he had no other choice. Brushing away the tears, he stood up and got a glass of water, chugging it. Setting the empty glass down, he bent his head and gathered himself. He froze when he heard Sam moving on his bed, then he turned around and looked to see Sam rubbing sleep out of his eyes. Sam's big hazel eyes blinked up at him and Dean smiled at him, pretending everything was okay.
"Morning Sammy! Glad you're awake. You need to head in, take a shower, and get ready. We need to head over to the store and get food." He told him, walking over and ruffling Sam's hair before he sat down on the edge of the bed and slipping on his boots.
Sam frowned, tilting his head to the side. "But Dean, we don't have any money left." He pointed out, fixing his hair and climbing out of the bed to grab his clothes. Dean looked down at his boot laces, not looking at Sam.
"Yeah, we do. We've got about twelve hundred." He muttered.
Sam stood in the middle of the room, jaw open in shock as he heard him. "But...How did you get that kind of money? Where?" He asked, voice filled with curiosity.
Dean finished tying his boots and leaned back up, slapping his hands on his thighs while plastering a fake smile on his face. "Won it off a guy playing poker last night. Him and his buddies were so drunk they didn't even notice I wasn't playing fair." He ended with a wink. Sam stared at him for a moment longer like he didn't believe him, but then he nodded his head and walked to the bathroom to get ready. Dean sighed in relief and put his head in his hands. He was glad Sam believed him because there was no way in hell he was going to tell him the truth.
He sat there for another fifteen minutes waiting for Sam to get done. When he was, they headed off to the store. Sam kept giving him weird looks the entire way, making Dean finally stop and turn to him.
"What, Sammy?" He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
Sam shuffled his feet and looked anywhere but at Dean. "I don't know what you mean."
Dean snorted and rolled his eyes. "Bullshit, little brother. What's up?"
Sam let out a puff of air that ruffled his bangs, then looked Dean straight in the eye. "What's up with you? You haven't been eating lately, you haven't been sleeping well, and last night I woke up and you weren't even in the room. Plus, today you look like you got into a fight last night. You've got bruises on your arms and you're limping."
Dean's face fell a little. He had hoped he had hid all of that better. He ran a hand through his hair. "I promise Sammy, I'm fine. Nothing's wrong." He assured him, trying to look convincing. Sam just raised an eyebrow at him before stepping forward and hugging Dean. Dean stood there in shock for a minute, but then he hugged Sam back tightly. They pulled away at the same time and walked on to the store like nothing happened. They made two trips to the store that day to get what they wanted and needed. Dean decided that after the rough couple of days they had, they deserved to have something special that night, so they went to a local diner for lunch. Sam ordered a cheeseburger and fries with a milkshake and Dean got the same. He wanted more than that, but he knew that since he hadn't eaten in the last few days that if he did eat a bunch of food, he'd only throw it back up in a few hours. When they were done, they went back to the hotel and spent the rest of the day watching T.V. and spending time together.
Dean woke up with a gasp, covered in cold sweat and shaking from the dream he'd had. It was two days after he had made the money to pay for his and Sam's food and he was still having trouble sleeping because of it. Every time he closed his eyes, everything came flooding back to him and he freaked out. It even started to affect him during the day. Sam would casually touch him, just placing his hand on Dean's shoulder, or reaching out to punch him playfully and Dean would flinch and pull away, a scared look in his eyes. Sam would look worried and Dean would just wave it away and say nothing was wrong.
Dean glanced over to Sam's bed and was filled with relief when he saw that Sam was still asleep. He blinked and wiped the sweat off his face before tossing back the covers and walking into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He turned the sink on, filling his hands with water and splashing it on his face a couple of times. Drying his face off, he stared at his reflection in the mirror and noticed the bags under his eyes. Closing them, he hung his head and sucked in a deep breath before letting it out slowly.
It was the third man he had picked up that night, and luckily he only wanted to be sucked off. He was an overweight man with greasy brown hair and beetle-like eyes. Dean guessed that the man's wife wasn't giving him the sex he wanted if he had to go to a prostitute, although given the fact that the man wasn't attractive in any sense, Dean could understand why she wouldn't want to. He didn't even want to touch the guy, but money was money and they needed it. The man undid his pants and pulled Dean's face towards his crotch roughly.
"Get to work slut. I have to be home before my wife notices I'm not there." He growled out. Dean frowned, but reached his hand out to tug the man's cock out. He wasn't hard yet, so Dean gave him a few pulls, just enough for him to get half-hard before he lowered his mouth and started to suck, swirling his tongue and bobbing his head up and down. The man above him moaned and bucked his hips, causing Dean to choke and try to pull back, but the man just chuckled and pushed Dean's face back down onto his cock.
"Deep throat it, bitch. I'm not paying for a shitty blow job. You do it right or I take my money back." He ground out, thrusting his hips up again while keeping his hand buried in Dean's hair to make him stay. Dean gagged, tears gathering because of the abuse to his throat, but he finished the job, and got out of the truck hurriedly before the man actually did take his money back.
Dean leaned over the toilet, throwing up everything he had eaten that day after he had the flashback. It was so real he could almost feel the man's cock slipping in and out of his mouth again, the taste of his cum still lingering in his mind and causing him to think it was still in his mouth, even though he had spit it all out and immediately washed it away with a small bottle of Jack Daniels from the mini bar in the hotel room. His breath was coming in ragged pants, his body shaking as revulsion, shame and disgust filled him. He stood up slowly, reaching for the razor he kept on the sink for when he shaved. He broke it apart, taking one of the blades out and sinking back down onto the floor. Leaning against the bathtub, he pulled his legs up to his chest and rested his chin on his knees, staring at the blade. He watched as the dim light from the bulb caused the blade to shine as he flipped it over in his hand. Anticipation and a bit of fear rushed through him, making his heart beat faster, and then he tightened his grip on the blade in his right hand before bringing it up to his left arm, slowly slicing through the skin. He didn't make the cut too deep or long, just enough to cause pain. He hissed as it started to sting, watching the blood well up from the cut and drip down his arm. The pain from the cut replaced the pain from the memories, giving him some control over what was happening to him. He moved his had a little lower and made another cut just under the first one, and kept this up for three more strokes before he stopped. He didn't want Sammy to notice the marks and get suspicious. His right hand dropped to the floor, the blade falling next to him, and he tilted his head back to stare at the cracked ceiling, blinking through the fog he fell into during his cutting.
He was still sitting there when he heard a rustling noise and then felt warm, callused hands dabbing gently at his wounds with a wet rag. The scent of pine, honey, and something Dean couldn't place but smelled like home, filled his nose and he turned his head to see a black haired man bent low over his arm, cleaning it before he healed the wounds with a wave of his hand. He smiled gently, his mind still caught up in the fog. The other man looked up when he was done, his bright, sparkling blue eyes filled with sadness and worry.
"Dean, these last two cuts were deeper than usual. You need to stop this." His dark haired angel told him in his deep, gravely voice. Dean shook his head.
"I can't. The memories...They keep coming back and this is the only way to stop them. I just want them to stop. I want to go back to normal." He replied quietly, his voice shaky and frustrated now that his mind was clearing. The man came every night after Dean cut himself, only staying long enough to heal him and ask him to stop and every night Dean said no.
The angel sighed, his eyes showing tenderness as he placed his hand gently against Dean's cheek. "I am not supposed to do this, but I will help as much as I can with the memories. What I will do will dull them, so they are not so vivid. They will feel like they happened to someone else. Will that help?"
Dean nodded eagerly. "Yes. Please. Anything to make them stop hurting." He gasped out, tears splashing down his face.
The angel stared at him a moment longer, then nodded as well. "Alright. This will be the last time I see you for a long time, Dean. The next time you see me, you will not know who I am. When I am done, you will be asleep."
Dean nodded again. "Okay. Thank you. For everything." He whispered before he closed his eyes, and a second later he felt the angel slip into his mind and dull the memories before placing him into a deep sleep.
Castiel pulled out of Dean's mind and studied the older Winchester resting on the bathroom floor. He sighed as he remembered that the young man still had so far to go, and so much more pain to go through before he would become the strong, courageous man Castiel knew he could be. He picked Dean up in his arms, frowning at how easy it was, and walked into the room to place him back in his bed. Glancing down at the young man resting peacefully now, his face softened and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss on his forehead, causing a small freckle to appear. Pulling back a little, he whispered kindly,
"Sleep well, Dean Winchester. I will see you again, I promise. And I will continue to watch over you." With that, he stepped away, cleaned the bathroom of any evidence of Dean's habit, and flew away.
The next morning, Dean woke up to find Sam had made them both breakfast consisting of eggs and toast. Dean looked confused before Sam spoke up after swallowing a mouthful of food.
"You haven't been sleeping much so I thought I'd let you sleep in today. I made you breakfast." He pointed at the plate opposite him. "You look a lot better today." He commented as Dean sat down and started to eat.
Dean paused before continuing to eat. "Yeah. I feel a lot better too." He smiled at Sam and Sam smiled back. After that, he no longer had the flash backs and if the nightmares happened, it was like they were from a movie he had watched, not an actual experience he had.
Years later, Dean and Bobby were in an abandoned warehouse, waiting for the monster that pulled Dean from Hell. When the man walked in, they started firing everything they could at the guy, but nothing fazed him. He just kept walking towards them, and even the demon blade had no effect. He placed his fingers on Bobby's forehead and lowered the man to the ground as he passed out.
"Who the hell are you?" Dean asked furiously.
"I am Castiel, Angel of the Lord. We need to talk."
A/N: Thank you so much for reading and in return you may have a free piece of pie! Just don't eat too much or you'll get sick. Leave a review if you want to!