Fic title: Humanity is a State of Heart
Author name: Hunter King and Alessanii
Genre: Wincest with a splash of het in a few scenes
Pairing: Sam/Dean, Bobby, Dean/OMCs, Dean/OFCs
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 34,699 words
Warnings: slight dub-con, tattoos, incest, slight mention of rape (Not Sam or Dean), abuse
Summary: Sam and Dean are hunting a coven who are seemingly casting spells on people whom they hold grudges against to make them pay with their lives. Once they find and kill most of the coven, it being the only way to stop these power hungry witches, Sam and Dean are prepared to leave and call it a good day's work. But there's one more who comes out of nowhere, tossing Sam across the room and nearly killing Dean. Luckily, Dean gets a good hit in and manages to kill her before she can off him. However, before she dies, she casts a spell on Dean. One that will turn him into one of the very things he hunts, leaving Sam to make the decision as to whether or not to kill his brother, or leave him alone to be a threat to all of the unsuspecting victims he may come upon.
Chapter 1:
Sam ran down the stairs after his brother, his mind still reeling after what he had just seen. Normally, after he and Dean took out an immediate threat, they just died. But not today. This particular hunt had been a witch; Sam hated witches almost as much as Dean did. After all, they were basically as bad as demons even if they were human because witches prayed to demons and got their power from them. True, most people didn't know that, but Sam did and he didn't like it. Why turn to black magic when things aren't going your way? Everyone else has to tough it out; why should they be any different?
But this witch had to be the worst of them all. This particular witch knew what she was doing before she got into it and then when Sam and Dean had tried to reason with her, she went all Rambo on them and almost killed Dean! That was inexcusable in Sam's book, even if she was still a human. There was no other option that either Winchester could see; she had to be put down.
Dean had gotten to her first, so naturally, he took the shot. They thought it was over, but before she died, she muttered something in Dean's direction; Sam thought it was a spell, but there was no way to be sure without doing a little research. Luckily, he had heard every word the woman said and because they were pointed at Dean, his brain was already filing them away as memory. It wouldn't be too hard to jump on the net and figure out what this woman had been trying to do to his brother. And even if the internet didn't have the answers, he was sure Bobby would. That man knew everything, and Sam loved him to death for it. He was always there when he needed him to be, which was more than he could say for his own father, sadly.
Once they were in the car, Sam felt a lot better. There was just something about the familiar feel of the leather under him that calmed him down no matter how worked up he was; the smell of coffee and leather and both of them mingled around him every time he climbed into the Impala and he figured that had something to do with why he always felt so good in the car. It was Dean. No matter what happened as long as Dean was with him, everything was fine in his world because he felt safe and protected around his brother at all times.
And there was no reason he shouldn't have. Dean had given up his soul for Sam when Jake had killed him, although most of the time, Sam didn't think Dean should have. It was selfish of the older male and Sam just wished he would have been watching his back so Dean wouldn't have had to make that call. But there was no use crying over spilled milk, though more tears would be shed over the next year he was sure. After all, he would be crying for joy when he found a way to save Dean. And he would, too; failure was not an option when it came to his brother. Sam didn't care if he died saving Dean; he was the one who was supposed to be six feet under anyway so he would have merely been returning the natural order of things.
Of course, he knew he was crazy to think that Dean would leave him dead even if them tampering with the deal made Sam go back to rotting meat. Sure, he probably wouldn't have been able to make another deal, but he knew Dean wouldn't stop until he found a way to bring Sam back even if it meant a personal sacrifice. To be completely honest, Sam wasn't exactly sure what Dean would do to get him back if he died again, and it kind of scared him. They were dependent on each other to extreme levels sometimes and Sam knew it was kind of dangerous. But they were set in their ways and there was no changing them now. It was Dean and Sam against the world and he liked it that way. He and Dean had each other's backs and that was all that mattered.
Throughout the car ride, Sam didn't say anything, worried that he would forget something vital, which could lead to them not finding out what the witch had done until it was too late for his brother. He did look over in Dean's direction more often than not, just checking to make sure his older brother was still there and nothing unusual was happening to him. After all, one could never be too careful when it came to witchcraft.
Thankfully, Dean was all right for now and they were almost to their motel room where Sam could finally look up the witch's last words. Sam could still hear them clearly in his head: Hunter, jūs kļūsiet ļoti lieta, ko jūs medības, lai jūs partneris tevi leju. He didn't know much about spells, but he knew the language was definitely Latvian. That didn't surprise him, of course; most old-world rituals, spells and exorcisms were all done in Latvian to his knowledge.
After what seemed like a lifetime to Sam, they were finally at the motel. It was so hard not to just throw the car door open before Dean even stopped, but somehow Sam managed it. Probably the only reason was because Sam was afraid his brother would have bitched at him for it and he didn't want to hear it; he knew that if Dean said something to him, he would have to respond with some snappy comeback and then they would undoubtedly get into an argument and Sam just didn't have the time nor the strength for that right now. He was tired and worried about Dean and all he wanted to do was get a little bit of research done and go to bed. Was that so much to ask? His head did hurt since he had been thrown across the room by the witch when she came out of seemingly nowhere.
As soon as Dean pulled the keys out of the ignition, Sam was out of the car and shoving their room key into the lock, bursting through the door as soon as he had the lock done. He remembered that he had his laptop on the nightstand beside his bed the night before so that was the first stop he made once in the room. Laptop in hand, Sam then quickly made it to the table, opening the computer and using the motel room's Wi-Fi to log onto the internet.
It didn't take him long to have the words typed into the Google search engine before he tapped the enter key and started his search. After sifting through the first three pages, he finally found something that looked like it might pertain to witchcraft, though he wasn't sure. After all, he didn't know much about witches, well not as much as he did other supernatural pests anyway, so he was going on instinct with this most of the time.
"Sam, what do you think you're doing now, dude? Go shower and then we'll celebrate the end of the hunt like always: bar, beer, and hot chicks." Dean's words sounded weary and tired after such a bad witch hunt. But dark forest green eyes stayed a little glazed, like Dean wasn't completely aware off his surroundings. Sam watched his brother – clothes muddied, bloodied, his short hair sticky with filth he didn't want to recognize, and all of his daredevil behavior showing in his brother's posture. It was wrong and reassuring to some extent. After all, Dean's denial of his own weariness should count as normal for his big brother in these circumstances. Maybe all would be good; maybe.
"What does it look like I'm doing, Dean?" Sam asked with a roll of his champagne hazel eyes. "I think that witch cast a spell on you before she died and I want to make sure before we do anything rash. I mean, she might have just been mumbling to you about her grocery list, or something but I want to be safe."
Sure, Sam was about ninety eight percent sure the witch hadn't been reciting her grocery list to Dean, but his brother seemed to think it was funny. And he did love making Dean laugh. It didn't happen often, but those few times that it did really made Sam's day.
Something that really pissed Sam off, however, was when people posted things on the internet that he was sure were only there to waste his time and make him even more angry than he already had been before looking at the idiotic web page. Like the one that he was on now, which had touched a little bit on black magic and witchcraft but then started to stray from the subject and talk about some television show that had really hot witches doing magic on it. Sam didn't care about television shows when his brother was possibly dying, dammit!
A few more ridiculous web pages (and one book thrown at Dean because he wouldn't shut up) later, Sam finally had something going. It was a site that was probably as old as the internet itself and it dealt with black magic and spells cast on people, mainly hunters, by witches who thought their victims were a nuisance; just what Sam needed to get the answers to his questions.
Skimming down through a few of the spells that didn't mean anything to him at this particular time, Sam's eyes finally landed on what he needed. A small smile came to his face as he turned his head towards his brother whom he had told to leave him alone until he told him there was something for him to know. "Dean, I think I found it," he smiled, attention returning to the screen as his brother started walking towards him.
Quickly, he took in the information on the screen, brain working in overdrive to piece little things together. The smile that had been on his face due to his victory quickly disappeared when everything clicked into place inside his mind. Dean had been cursed. The witch had used a nasty death spell and Sam was sure that if he looked back at Dean, the older male would be wearing a look similar to his own; devastated, scared, confused, anxious even. There were so many emotions running through Sam he wasn't even sure which one to deal with first.
He slowly turned around once more to look at Dean, the look on the older male's face everything that he had been expecting. Sam wasn't about to let this get the best of them. Dean was losing his damn soul and they hadn't let that stand in their way yet. Hell, Sam was trying everything to make sure that didn't happen and now Sam was going to make sure that this didn't happen to Dean either. He owed him that much since Dean was always there to protect Sam and make everything better. Now, it was Sam's turn to make everything better for Dean and he wasn't going to let his big brother down.
Sam angrily snapped the laptop closed, pushing out of his chair as he began to pace around the room. "Don't worry Dean," he soothed, head shaking back and forth. "I'm going to take care of this. There has to be a way to make sure this doesn't happen, right? I mean, it's just like your deal; we can make it go away. It never has to happen."
If they had gotten anywhere with his brother's deal, Sam might have believed his words a little more; it was a great speech after all. But until they actually found a way to get out of this that was all they were; words. Meaningless words that Dean probably didn't even believe, which held absolutely no value to them other than they came out of Sam's mouth and he was at least trying to be sincere. However, sincerity wasn't going to get them anywhere and Sam knew that.
"We should call Bobby," Sam suggested, shoving his hand into his pocket and fishing for his cell phone.
"No way, Sam! Put that phone down. We don't need help. We will handle this same as always; research, put up with the shit and clean the bill. Why bother Bobby with such a something like this? Hum! It's not the first time we've had to cancel a witch's spell," Dean growled angrily, a spark showing under the glazed emerald glare he aimed at his annoying little brother, something so Dean-like that it was reassuring in itself.
Shocked, Sam just stared at Dean for a few moments, trying to gather his thoughts. "What?" he finally asked, shaking his head. "Bobby will probably know what to do, Dean. I mean, he could help us!"
Grumbling so low that Sam couldn't catch anything, Dean explained himself. The blank stare he received in return made him repeat himself more clearly. "Sam, how could you tell Bobby that a fucking witch cursed me to become one of the things we hunt? That the spell is meant to force you to end me when I will eventually lose my humanity? We don't even know if her last spell worked, so why worry him uselessly?" Dean was shifting on his feet like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
It made sense, he supposed if he really thought about it. Bobby was like a father to them and Dean had never liked to admit to their dad that he had been blindsided on the rare occasions when it would happen. So yeah, Sam could understand why Dean didn't want Bobby to know about this.
Sighing, Sam nodded, letting Dean know he wouldn't call the older hunter. "Fine, I won't call him. Yet. But if this thing gets out of hand and we need help, I'm calling him. I don't care if you want him to know or not."
Sam ran his hands through his unruly hair then, eyes squeezed tightly closed against the headache he was still suffering from since before they left the coven's house. "So, what should we do now? Any ideas where to start looking for a cure?"
The relieved sigh from Dean was unmistakable, rolling off all of his being like a tidal wave. Some life returned to his cheeks and animation entered his green eyes again. His trademark smirk painted itself on those gorgeous lips, which made girls crazy every time he smiled. Mischief was hidden in the glint of the emerald of his eyes, too.
"Shower, then bar, beer and hot chicks; I already told you that, bitch. Time to celebrate being alive. You need to get laid too, my Sasquatchy monk." Dean's exuberance was at its highest with the prospect of fulfilling his basic instincts; he had always been able to enjoy the simplest things of life.
When Dean told him that he needed to get laid, Sam's eyes widened. He did not! If Sam wanted to go out and have a good time with some nameless chick, he would do it. But that was his brother's MO. Sam was more into getting to know someone before he stuck his dick in her! Scoffing, he shook his head as he walked to the bathroom before Dean could into the shower. Dean always used all of the hot water so Sam got stuck with a cold shower and right now, Dean seemed to need the cold shower more than he did. "Whatever, jerk. I don't need to get laid, and I won't be like all of those pigs at the bars who just hit on anything wearing a short skirt and sleazy top. But by all means, you go ahead and have at it."
With that, Sam was in the bathroom, closing the door behind him before he moved to turn on the water. If he were an ass, he would have used up all the hot water, but he didn't plan on doing that. After all, Dean was still hurt and Sam knew cleaning wounds with hot water was a lot more effective than cleaning them with cold water.
Once he was in the shower, Sam closed his eyes as he relaxed back against the shower wall, allowing the water to just cascade over his body. It felt really good to have the hot spray beating down on his aching muscles so he spent a few minutes just standing there enjoying the feeling before he started to actually take his shower.
Because he wasn't using all of the hot water so Dean could have some for his aches and pains that Sam knew were going to be there, he didn't take more than ten minutes showering before he was out of the water, towel slung across his hips to hide any part of him Dean didn't want to see. He then made his way out of the bathroom and to his bed, grabbing his duffel bag and yanking it onto the bed. "You're lucky I'm such an awesome brother and didn't use all the hot water," he assured Dean with a curt nod.
His only response was to have Dean shoot him a glare before the older male slipped into the bathroom to take his own shower, leaving Sam alone in the main room to change.