A Curse, not Broken, but Bent.

This takes place at the beginning of the summer before always a girl!Sam leaves for Stanford.

Dean POV:
Dean could hear pages rustling as Sammy flipped the dusty tome she was holding. "This is useless, Dean. I don't know what the witch was hiding, but it's not in any of these books." Sam grouched as she turned to look at her big brother.

As Dean pivoted to face Sam, a momentary glint of light caught his eye. In the back of the desk drawer he had been rifling, Dean could make out the shine of something metallic. "Hang on, Sammy. I just want to finish looking through this desk and we can go meet Dad back at the motel."

Dean pulled old papers and office supplies from the drawer in order to uncover whatever had been hidden in the back of the drawer. Dean thought it might be a letter opener, but maybe it was some item of power that the witch had hidden.

He couldn't quite see it in the darkness of the drawer, so Dean carefully grasped the object between his thumb and forefinger. He eased it out into the light and could see that it was no letter opener. It was a small dagger. The handle was creamy white and looked to be made of bone, ivory, or antler. The blade gleamed bronze in the soft glow of the banker's lamp on the desk.

There was something etched into the metal of the blade in swirling, cursive letters. Dean's finger itched to grab the handle of the knife and hold it up for a closer look. Dean knew that urges like that usually meant an object was cursed. He was just letting go of the tentative hold he had on the knife when Sam startled Dean, asking, "What have you got there?" from just over his shoulder. Dean flinched and the knife sliced a shallow arc across the edge of his thumb.

Dean hissed and stared at the cut. A single drop of blood welled up and fell into the open desk drawer. "Oh, fuuuuuuck," Dean moaned as he watched the blood spatter on the bronze blade of the cursed knife.

What had been an ignorable curiosity about the knife now flared into a burning need to pick it up. Dean's forehead was dotted in sweat and his teeth ground against each other as he tried to resist the overwhelming desire to grab the handle of the dagger. Almost before he knew what was happening, Dean's hand snatched the knife from the drawer and twisted the blade so that Dean could read the words etched onto it.

"With this knife, true love was betrayed. Find your heart, thrust, and draw blood with your blade."

Dean barely had time to finish reading the words out loud before he turned the knife on himself and attempted to stab himself through the heart. If Sammy hadn't been standing right there, she never would have had time to grab his hand with both of hers and pull the point of the knife away from Dean's chest.

The pair fell over and Sam landed on top of Dean as his back smacked into the hardwood floor. Sam had both of her hands wrapped tightly around Dean's wrist as she worked one knee between their bodies. She was trying to gain some leverage to push against Dean and get the knife out of his hand. "Let go. Let GO!" Sam was practically chanting at a trembling Dean.

"I can't" Dean gasped. "Fuck, Sammy! Help me, please." Dean begged his little sister. Dean was glad that his barely 18 year old sister was 5 foot 10 and in great shape from hunting, but he knew that she was nowhere near as strong as he was. His only hope was that her lightning quick wits could come up with some way to save them.

Dean almost sagged in relief as Sam started to talk. "OK. OK. Ummm. True love. Find your heart." Sam's eyes looked desperate as she struggled to find any solution for Dean's predicament. Then they opened wide and a grin spread across her face. "I've got it! Find your heart means find your true love."

Dean stared up at Sammy in confusion. He asked, "What are you talking about?"

Dean wondered why the hell Sammy was talking about true love at a time like this. She needed to be thinking about a way to knock him out or disarm him before he managed to fucking hari-kari himself in some shitty little ranch house in some crappy little Midwest suburb.

Sam pulled one of her masterful bitch-faces and continued, "Just listen to me, Dean. We can bend this curse, OK? Find your heart doesn't have to be literal. The first part of the curse mentions true love, so I need you to believe that the 'find your heart' part of the curse also refers to true love. Please Dean, believe it for me. Please."

Tears were building up in Sammy's eyes and Dean did his very best to believe what she was telling him. Don't find my actual heart. Find my true love. I don't need to stab myself, I need to kill some poor girl I've probably never met. No need to slide this dagger into my chest, that's not what the curse wants. Dean could feel the tension in his right arm releasing. It was working. Apparently, the curse reacted in the way he interpreted it. Whatever he believed the curse wanted is how the curse would act. Sammy was so fucking smart.

Dean's head dropped back onto the floor with a thump. He was still unable to drop the dagger, but the desire to immediately kill himself was gone. He heard Sammy asking, "Are you OK? Can I let go of your wrist?" Dean nodded and felt Sam's fingers unwrap from his arm. He knew he was going to have a bracelet of bruises, but that was a small price to pay for his folly. He should never have touched the knife.

Dean began to calm down and took several deep breaths. He could feel Sam's palpable concern for him. Thank God Sammy was so smart and strong. She had come up with a whole new way to 'bend' a curse on the fly while keeping him from stabbing himself. He was lucky that she had been able to sit on him and keep his arm from getting too close to his own chest. Of course, she was now squashing him painfully into the floor. Dean began to get a little uncomfortable as he considered their positions.

Sam was still sitting on Dean. She was straddling his waist and she had one hand resting on his chest, just above his heart. "You're crushing me, Sasquatch." Dean grunted. Dean might call her 'sasquatch,' but she was by no means fat. Nonetheless, her athletic, slightly muscular body was too heavy for her to be sitting on his stomach comfortably. Dean glared at her, and Sammy rocked back a few inches until her butt was directly over his groin. Dean hitched in a breath as Sam unintentionally made their positions worse.

Dean started to panic as he could feel himself getting hard. Oh, God. Oh, God. She has got to stop doing that. This is why he had stopped sparring with her when she was 15. He just couldn't control how his body reacted to her. She was just so fucking beautiful. She was all long legs, hazel eyes, and dimples. It was wrong, Wrong, WRONG! His baby sister did not need to know that he was one sick bastard. She was so beautiful, kind, smart, funny, strong, and fearless. He loved her so much.

A look of horror and shame contorted Dean's face when his right hand began to twitch. He yelled at Sam, "Get up! Run! Dammit Sammy, RUN!" Dean hated himself in that moment. That was the moment he realized that Sammy was the love of his life; the moment he knew he was going to try to kill her.

Sam POV:
Sam leapt up from her brother and started to back away from where he was still flat on the floor. "Dean? What's wrong?" she asked. She watched as emotions flitted through Dean's expressive, green eyes. Horror, disgust, fear, shame, and panic warred for control of Dean's expression. Sam's eyes opened wide in shock as she heard Dean's reply. "It wants you, Sammy. You are my heart. I'm so sorry. So fucking sorry, but you are my 'true love.' You need to run. NOW!"

Sam knew that she only had moments before the curse regained control of Dean and he would be after her with the dagger. She did what any sane person would do; she turned and ran. She ran out of the house and through the back yard to the golf course that the property backed onto. She didn't know how long she could stay ahead of Dean.

Normally, Sam could outrun Dean easily. He was taller than her, but his adorable bow legs made his stride shorter than hers. Also, Sam enjoyed running and jogged every morning before school. Unfortunately, all bets were off when it came to a curse. Dean could very well be able to run back to back marathons if it meant the curse could be fulfilled.

Sam needed to think. They had successfully bent the curse once. It could be bent a little further. She thought about the last line of the curse.

"Find your heart, thrust, and draw blood with your blade."

On the bright side, Dean had convinced himself that 'find your heart' meant finding his true love. He was no longer trying to stab himself through the heart. On the other hand, he also seemed to think that Sam was his true love. Sam didn't know if she would be able to bend that part of the curse any further, and even if she could convince Dean that she was not his 'true love,' that just put someone else in danger.

Sam decided to focus on the last part of the line. "Thrust and draw blood with your blade." It really did seem like Dean was going to have to stab her. Maybe she could convince him that a tiny stab would work. She really didn't want to be stabbed at all, and she was afraid that curse would still want a through the heart kind of stabbing.

Panic set in as Sam could hear Dean gaining on her. She darted around a sand trap and into a small copse of trees at the edge of a rough. She needed to think of a way to change the curse in a non-violent direction. She wished she had more time to think. Sam skidded to a halt as a thought struck her. Sam berated herself for being such a teenage girl. She wished she could think of any other solution, but time was running out. Years of reading cheap romance novels in hotel rooms made her unable to think of "thrust" as anything but sexual.

Sam wondered. Could it work? Would Dean be able to convince himself of this new interpretation of the curse? There is only one way to find out.

Sam stood in the moonlight streaming through the trees and waited for her big brother. Dean ran into the trees and looked startled to see her just standing there. Dean groaned. "Why aren't you running, Sammy?"

Sam took a deep breath and answered, "I don't need to run. You aren't going to hurt me." Dean looked incredulous. He shook his head back and forth while hope flared in his eyes. "I'm not?" he asked.

Sam took a deep steadying breath. She wasn't sure that Dean would allow the curse to be bent this way. Whether her plan worked or not, Sam was fucked.

"First of all," Sam stated. "That is not your blade." Dean looked down at the dagger in his hand. His eyebrows drew together and he cocked his head slightly to one side. Looking back into Sam's eyes, he said, "OK, but I have my knife in my boot. What difference does it make?"

Confidence in her plan began to grow as Dean kept his distance. Sam shook her head and smiled at Dean. She looked him in the eye and said, "Your blade isn't a knife at all, Dean. Your blade is your rock hard cock."

Dean's jaw dropped and he squinted at Sam in confusion. "What?" he stammered. Sam knew she really had to sell this idea, or the curse could not be bent. Dean had to believe her. He had to want to believe her, and Sam knew this was one of the stupidest, riskiest ideas she had ever had.

Focusing all of her attention on Dean, Sam began to walk slowly closer. She tried her best to put some slink in her walk. She reached Dean's side and lifted her lips to his ear. She could tell that Dean was holding his breath waiting for what she had to say. "Thrust and draw blood with your blade, Dean. You aren't supposed to stab me. You are supposed to fuck me and take my virginity."

Dean drew in a shaky breath as the idea swirled through his brain. "I don't think…" he stammered. Sam husked her reply, "I'm a virgin, Dean. When you thrust your hard cock into my tight, cherry pussy, there will be blood. Come on big brother. Don't you want to sheathe your blade in me?"

Dean moaned and began to whisper, "Oh God, no, Sammy. What have you done?" The pain in his eyes was almost unbearable, but Sam took some joy in the fact that Dean dropped the cursed blade.

Sam reached up and pushed Dean's leather jacket off of his shoulders before removing her own jean jacket. Dean stood rigid and trembling as Sam lifted his arms to pull Dean's tee shirt off over his head. As she removed each piece of clothing, Sam spread them on the ground. Sam did not need a rock or sticks gouging into her back while she was having her cherry popped by her big brother.

Dean had squeezed his eyes tightly shut until Sam began to unbuckle his belt. His breathing was ragged, but he managed to say, "Stop." Sam ignored him, but focused on removing her own clothes for a minute. She toed off her boots and sat down on the small pallet of clothing that she had built. She pulled off her socks and stuffed them into the openings of her boots. Her own tee shirt was added to the makeshift bed. Her jeans were folded on top of her boots. Before long she was stripped down to her bra and panties.

Dean had stood watching her as Sam stripped. Sam could not help admiring his muscled arms and shoulders as he stood bare-chested in the moonlight. It was not the first time that Sam had admired Dean's body. She would have had to be blind or stupid not to notice how beautiful he was. If she had somehow missed it on her own, she had certainly heard it enough from the girls and guys that she met in every new school.

As he stood, staring down at her, Sam thought that he had never been more gorgeous. His hands were clenched in fists at his sides and tears were starting to work their way down his cheeks from eyes filled with pain. Sam's own heart ached to see how he was fighting himself over what had to happen. Sam didn't know if it was Dean's own desire or the curse, but she could see that he was fully aroused and tenting his jeans.

Sam went from sitting to kneeling in front of Dean in one graceful movement. She reached up with her hands and unbuckled his belt. Dean's hands clenched tighter, but he did not move away. Sam made quick work of the button and zipper of Dean's jeans. It was only moments before the only barrier between Sam's face and Dean's cock was the thin fabric of his boxer shorts. Sam kept eye contact with Dean as she ran her cheek across the hard bulge.

Dean gasped and his legs began to tremble. Sam untied Dean's boots and lifted each foot carefully to remove his boots and socks. Then she pulled his jeans down to his ankles so that Dean could step out of them.

As Sam pulled on Dean's hands to drag him down to her side, Dean groaned, "Fuck, Sammy. This is so wrong." Sammy refrained from commenting on the pre-cum wetting the front of Dean's boxer shorts. Instead, she asked, "would you prefer the alternative?" She felt bad as Dean flinched from her words.

Sam tried to make Dean feel better about the situation. "I'm going to be OK. We're going to be OK. I know you're not going to hurt me." Dean shook his head but reached up to brush his fingers gently over Sam's cheek. "You deserve better than this, Sammy" he said.

Sam considered Dean's words. Did she really deserve "better?" Dean loved her. Sam trusted Dean. She knew he would never hurt her. Also, she had heard enough rumours of Dean's prowess to believe that she might even enjoy it. It wasn't like she had ever seriously considered having sex with her brother, but she had always compared every boy who ever hit on her to him. The other boys had always fallen short. Sam asked Dean, "Do you really think that I should have given it up to one of the zit-faced kids that have been sniffing after me since I was 15 and grew tits?"

A throaty growl was Dean's first answer, and he then said, "No! Just no, Sammy." Sam smiled at her brother revealing the dimples that she knew he could not resist. She reached around her back and unhooked her bra. Dean licked his full lips as Sam's small but perky breasts were revealed to his gaze. She started to hook her thumbs under her panties to pull them down when Dean replaced her hands with his own.

Dean slowly worked Sam's panties down her hips and out from under her butt. He pulled them off of her legs and she was fully naked in front of him. Dean removed his boxers, freeing his leaking erection. It looked like Dean was fully invested in the plan to bend the curse.

Dean pushed Sam backwards until she was fully reclined on the small pile of clothes. Dean dragged his fingertips of both hands from Sam's collar bones down her chest, across her tits, barely brushing against her nipples. He then stretched out beside her, half covering her body with his own.

Sam was surprised at how quickly she was becoming aroused from being touched by her brother. Her nipples had stood at attention as soon as they were touched. She could feel wetness pooling between her legs, and a throbbing need began to grow.

"I want to make this good for you, Sammy." Dean murmured into her ear. Goose pimples broke out across Sam's skin at those whispered words. Dean was kissing her neck, under her jaw and behind her ear. None of the kisses were enough to leave marks, but they all sent shivers down her spine.

Sam wanted to touch Dean, too. She ran her hands up his arms and clutched at his shoulders. She had to keep her fingernails short for hunting, but she scraped what she had down Dean's back. Sam kept her left hand on Dean's hip, but grabbed his ass with her right. Deans left leg was between her thighs and hitched up against her as she squeezed her hand on his butt. She loved the way Dean's muscles twitched as she explored.

Dean supported himself on his right elbow as he continued to kiss Sam's neck and chest. His mouth latched onto her left nipple as his left hand worked down Sam's body to the juncture of her legs. "Oh God, Sammy. So wet for me. So fucking wet." Dean whispered as his fingers explored.

Dean began to lightly flick the tips of his fingers across the tip of Sam's clit. She moaned and arched up against Dean's chest. He kept her legs apart with his thigh as she tried to squeeze her legs together. His fingers flew over her in a steady rhythm. Ring, middle, index, ring, middle, index. Over and over they brushed across her clit until Sam screamed and exploded in an intense orgasm. Dean rested his forehead on hers as she caught her breath.

"So beautiful when you cum for me." Dean stated. "I need to be inside you now, Sammy. Is that OK? Please?" Sam could not believe how much control Dean had. His body was tight with tension and need. His breath was catching in his throat and his cock was slick with pre-cum, but he still asked permission to go further.

Until now, Sam had been running on adrenaline. As she spread her legs wider so that her beloved big brother could rest between them, Sam had a moment of sheer terror. Dean must have been able to sense something even through the driving need of the curse, because he kissed Sam on the mouth before whispering, "I've got you, Sammy. Just relax. It's gonna be fine. I promise."

Sam's nerves were strung taut. "I don't know what to do, Dean. You're gonna have to tell me what to do." Sam replied.

A few wet tears fell from Dean's eyes and landed on Sam's chest and neck. Dean's vivid green eyes were tightly closed as he continued to hold himself back from penetrating his baby sister. Sam gently touched his chin and lifted it so that she could look at Dean. He opened his eyes and searched Sam's face saying, "I'm so sorry, baby girl. Just relax for me, please." Sam nodded without breaking eye contact.

Dean inched forward until the head of his cock was pressed against Sam's tight opening. He rocked forward, pressing into her wet hole. Sam tried not to hold her breath, but it just felt so right to have Dean between her legs. She took several shuddering breaths as Dean worked his way into her, inch by slow inch.

They both freeze as Dean hits a barrier inside Sam. She clenches tightly around Dean and he whispers, "Relax. Just breathe. It's only gonna hurt for a second. OK, Sammy?" Sam relaxes her body, takes a deep centering breath and nods.

Dean moves and a sharp burn fills Sam's awareness. She hisses between her teeth until Dean is fully seated inside her. She can feel his balls pressed up against her perineum for a short moment until he pulls out a fraction of an inch just to push back in again.

Sam moans as Dean begins to rock himself in and out of her body. Sam mourns the loss of fullness as he pulls out, but the feeling of being filled again is just so fucking awesome. She wasn't prepared for how overwhelmingly great it would feel to have a man, her brother, above her and in her.

All Sam could do was clutch at dean's shoulders and wrap her legs around his back, pulling him into her with her heels on every thrust. Heat was building in her belly, and Sam knew she was close to another orgasm. She slid her right hand down from Dean's shoulder to his chest. He moaned and trembled as Sam circled his left nipple with her thumb before giving it a pinch.

Sam continued to work her hand down between their bodies until her fingertips could rub against her clit. She brushed herself to match the rhythm of Dean's thrusts until she came screaming and clenching around Dean.

The tight spasms of Sam's squeezing pussy must have been too much for Dean, and he came with a yell, collapsing on top of his sister.

It seemed like only moments passed before Sam was left uncovered and cold when Dean lifted himself off of her. He refused to meet her eyes as he gathered his clothes from the ground around and under them. He dressed quickly without saying a word to Sam as she began to put on her own clothes. Dean turned his back to Sam as they dressed in silence. Once she had finished lacing her boots, Sam walked over to Dean and touched his back.

Dean flinched away from Sam's touch. He refused to turn and face her, so Sam had to walk around in front of him. He had the choice to turn away from her again, but he stayed rigidly fixed to his chosen spot. Sam needed her brother to hold her and tell her everything was going to be OK, that nothing had changed. "Dean?" Sam's voice quavered as she reached out again for her brother. Her tears began to fall as Dean still refused to even look at her.

Sam let out a broken sob as she tried to quell the fear that she had broken her relationship with her brother by breaking the curse. At the sudden noise, Dean's eyes snapped up to Sam's face. Sam had a brief moment to thank God for her puppy dog eyes before Dean reached out and pulled her tight to his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and Sam pressed her face against Dean's neck.

Sam breathed in Dean's comforting scent. Gun oil, leather, and sweat mixed in a heady Dean perfume. To Sam it smelled like love and home. Sam wrapped her arms around Dean's waist as he rocked them gently from side to side in a slow, close dance.

Sam began to say something, anything, to Dean, "I…" Dean cut her off with, "I don't want to talk about it Sam. Not now. Not ever." His swaying stopped, but he didn't let her go. He held her close with his nose pressed into the hair at her temple. His right hand rubbed in small circles and curves across the top of her back and shoulders.

After a few minutes, Dean heaved a deep breath and let Sam go. "Dad is probably wondering where we are. Come on." Dean stated in a calm but detached voice. He began to walk quickly across the golf course, back to the waiting Impala.

Sam followed her brother. She squinted her eyes in thought as she glared at dean's back. He may say that he never wanted to talk about what had happened, but Sammy knew a long conversation was on the way. Sam knew one time with Dean would never be enough.

AN: I don't own Supernatural or its characters. I'm just a fan.