What Part of Forever
Annaleise Marie
cross-posted from livejournal
username: girlgotagun

Pairing(s): Dean/Sam
Full List of Kinks: a/b/o dynamics, knotting, marking/biting, public claiming, exhibitionism, hurt/comfort, tears/crying, violence/aggression, object insertion, gangbang, bondage, torture, WAFF (bros I don't even know if that's a kink but there you have it).
WARNING: Pretty serious non-con in the first chapter. I'm going to write this so that you can start at chapter two and still get the gist of the story. Maaaaaybe some dub-con in the last two, depending on the exact spot your moral line is drawn regarding a character being completely acquiescent to the actual act of sex but not agreeable to the actual circumstances of it taking place.

Originally written for a prompt submitted to me on my livejournal page.

Part One

X

Sam had been flying solo on a hunt when everything went to shit. It wasn't that unusual, really—Sam hunting alone or everything going to shit. Sam was part of a sort of non-traditional pack, to say the least. They were brought together by their profession, by their lifestyle, rather than by blood or mating ties. So that was one unusual thing. The other, even more uncommon detail about their pack was that all of them—Sam, Dean, John, Bobby, Cas, and even Garth—were Alphas. Every single one. Although okay, you wouldn't really know it about Garth unless you could smell it on him, quiet power and command coiled tight under a goofy, bumbling exterior. But regardless, the fact remained that he was an Alpha, just like the rest of them.

Their shared status meant that tension could rise high. A lot. It seemed like every day there was some sort of upheaval, some sort of challenge to the status quo and restructuring of their fragile heirarchy. Sam thought it was pretty ridiculous to claim they even had an hierarchy, really, considering how volatile it was between the six of them on any given day. But they looked out for each other, watched each other's backs and supported each other like a family, so a pack they remained.

John and Sam had gotten into it the night before Sam left on the hunt. He didn't actually give a flying fuck about who was the 'lead Alpha' on any given day. His rage and aggression wasn't about that. He was tired of John treating him like a goddamned soldier who was supposed to fall in line at every barked order. It was fine for his older brother Dean, who lived for the hunt and never questioned John's 'lead Alpha' attitude, but it chafed Sam's nerves raw, both as an Alpha and a son.

It wasn't unusual for any one of the pack members to take off for a few days after a fight and cool down. Hell, if they didn't the pack would probably implode within a month. So when they had caught wind of a rogue vampire a few towns over, Sam jumped at it, bristling at his father's approving nod as he packed up.

It wasn't unusual for a hunt to go sideways, either. Actually, it was probably more unusual for one to go smoothly. Just part of the territory, really. But this… This was a new and terrifying twist, Sam thought as his exhausted mind and body threatened to shut down.

Sam had realized, too late, that the vampire he was hunting wasn't rogue at all. Not even close. She was a member of an established nest, the leader of which he had unfortunately met before. So the vampire wasn't a rogue without a coven; she was bait.

He was on the hook and being reeled in before he realized it. A hard blow from behind knocked him unconscious, and when he woke again he was in an old warehouse, chained by the hands and feet to a metal surface—a work table, he thought, but couldn't see enough to be sure. There was a thick wad of fabric in his mouth and a length of the same covering from just under his nose to the bottom of his chin, tied tight at the back of his head to stop him from spitting it out.

That was three days ago. Now, Sam was still on that table, rivulets of blood flowing from several deep bite marks littered across his body, pooling around and then seeping under his back when he arched in pain. He had realized what the metal surface was—an embalming table, with a drain in the center. The vampires were collecting his blood.

The gag had been removed when he had started to vomit from the pain, twisting as far onto his side as he could, pushing what little air was in his lungs out forcefully to try to keep his airway clear.

Kate stared down at him, watching with mild interest as he fought to stay conscious. She hadn't said much, had just watched as the nest took turns torturing him. He let out a low groan as she reached out, dragging a finger over one of the bleeding crescents, drawing a hiss of pain from the hunter.

"You know, I thought that once I had a Winchester on the table, I'd become inspired. Honestly, Sam, I have no idea what to do with you." She seemed to be pondering the choices. "I could kill you. I mean, it would be fair. An eye for an eye, right? But you know, I can't shake this feeling that just killing you wouldn't be enough. I'd still be fucking pissed." The last words were nearly a growl of rage. She crossed her arms and began a slow circle around the table, like a shark circling its pray.

Sam swallowed hard, clearing his throat of the bile that had coated it with the last wave of pain-induced nausea. "Kill me, then. It's not going to bring Luther back." His voice was almost taunting as he outlined the futility of her endeavor.

She moved, so fast he barely saw it, and tangled her hand in his hair, roughly jerking his head up. Her face was close to his, noses almost touching, eyes narrowed in fury.

"I thought about changing you, Sam. Thought about it. I can't bring Luther back, no. He's gone forever thanks to your bastard father." Her breath was sickly sweet, like sugar and the sweet decay of rot mixed together. "But I could replace him. And how much would it hurt dear old Johnny to know that his youngest son was my personal bitch for the rest of eternity?"

Sam spit, enraged, a thrill of triumph rushing through him as saliva, blood, and bile sprayed her face. It was short lived as she slammed his head back down against the metal table, her hand tight around his throat. It was a moment before she spoke again. "Yeah, I realized that you'd never be controllable, that making you a vampire, more powerful even than you are now, would be a mistake. But it gave me an idea, see?" She smiled, true glee glinting in her eyes. "What could hurt a proud Alpha boy the most, really make sure that even his proud Alpha daddy feels it?" She put a strange emphasis on Alpha that carried the promise of a darker meaning.

Sam's blood went cold when it hit him. He thrashed, trying to move away from her, shaking his head desperately. "Don't. Fucking kill me, Kate, but don't you fucking do that!"

"Yeah, Sammy…" Her hand came out to cup his chin, making him look at her as his chest heaved, his eyes wild with panic. "I'm gonna turn you into a breeding bitch."

X

Dean had gotten worried when Sam didn't show up after the second day, more worried that he hadn't even called. It was just supposed to be a single vamp, a simple chop-and-drop less than an hour away. There was no way the job wasn't done now, if that was all there was to it. And even if Sam had decided not to come home right away, it wasn't like him not to call.

After a half hour with the phone company, he was tracking Sam's cell phone online. A quick search of the address made his stomach drop.

"Bobby!" he bellowed as he began to gather his stuff. Bobby was the only one home at the moment.

The GPS had told him that Sam's cell was less than ten minutes away, in an abandoned warehouse behind an old factory. He was stationary, and the phone record showed no signs of activity for the last three days. Assuming that Sam was with his phone—and Dean couldn't imagine how else the phone would have wound up there if he wasn't—something wasn't right. And for something to be going on so close to a well-known hunting pack, well… Dean was assuming it was a trap. But he'd be damned if that would stop him from going after Sammy.

He filled Bobby in when the hunter arrived at the door to his room, not pausing in preparations to do so, and headed for the Impala. The surly older Alpha followed close behind, the thick scent of his outrage feeding Dean's own, overwhelming and quieting the underlying odor of fear.

They didn't talk much on the drive to the warehouse, Bobby slathering on a thick layer of scent-masking gel and then setting the bottle on the seat between then so that Dean could do the same when they arrived.

The gel had been a concoction of Ellen's, back when she was hunting. As an omega, her scent gave her no end of trouble from creatures and pack alike. Suppressants helped, but as an ingested chemical they had their own set of problems. The gel was better; temporary and free of side effects. It was a godsend, truly. It was hard to get the jump on a monster when it could smell you from fifty yards out, especially at times when tensions were high and scent thick. Times like this.

Dean slathered it on quickly, checked that his gun was loaded—it wouldn't kill a vamp; might slow it down though—and wrapped a hand around the hilt of the machete that Bobby extended to him.

With a last determined glance and nod to each other, they got out of the car.

X

Sam screamed—in sheer blinding rage, from the tearing pain, or just from a need to do something when he couldn't move; he wasn't sure which anymore—and pleaded, truly pleaded, for the first time since the whole ordeal had begun, for the vampires to just kill him. Hell, even turning him would have been preferable—he would die hating himself as a monster, sure, but at least he knew that his pack would kill him then. But this…this was the very worst thing they could do, and served the additional purpose of ensuring that he would be forced to live to suffer through it.

Because Sam was part of an all-Alpha bloodline, an all-Alpha pack, and no Alpha would harm an omega of their own kind, or let them be harmed. So instead of Sam having five hunters that he could count on to end this hell, he now had five hunters that would ensure he stayed trapped in it.

The vampire who was currently ripping him apart, a burly man who appeared to have been turned in his late thirties, gave a particularly hard thrust, ripping another anguished scream from Sam's raw throat. Blood and semen smeared Sam's ass and thighs, slicking the way for the vampire—the third, Sam thought, but he couldn't be sure, pain making them bleed together in his mind—but it was too little, too late. The first had torn him when he pushed his way in, hard and fast. Sam's body wasn't made for that, and the tearing was especially bad—felt like he was being violated by a baseball bat covered in razor blades—and it only worsened each time a new vamp mounted him and pushed inside.

He felt the burly man's dick twitch and he pulled out roughly, half a second before Sam felt wet heat splatter his back and the curve of his ass, marking and humiliating him. He let out an anguished sob and began to collapse, knees weak and forearms aching, but before he knew it another set of hands were grabbing his hips and holding him steady as the next one thrust inside of him without a moment's pause.

He threw his head back, screamed, tears streaming down his face. How much pain, humiliation, trauma could a body take before it shut down? Why was he still alive?

His head dropped back down and in the flash and blur of his vision something caught his eye. He looked back up, trying to clear his vision even as tears continued to flow forth to obscure it.

Dean was creeping around the perimeter of the room, his eyes trained on Sam in barely-contained fury and hatred as he moved behind Kate, sneaking up on the vampire as she grinned, enjoying the spectacle.

Sam broke, the last thread holding him together snapping when he realized that his big brother had watched him get fucked by an entire nest of vampires, watched them turn Sam into an omega, a heating bitch, a weak burden, a liability.

The next second the machete sliced through the air and Kate's head hit the ground. A beat later and the same happened to the vampire fucking Sam, his head landing next to the ruined Alpha. And in the moment before the vampire's body crumpled it hit Sam in a fleeting thought, borne of insanity and desperation, that a dead guy was inside of him and wasn't that just fucking perfect; wasn't that just the cherry on top of this shit sundae?

He dissolved into hysterical laughter before the world faded to black.

X

Dean and Bobby were silent as they carried Sam to the Impala, Bobby offering no comment, no question as Dean climbed into the back and cradled Sam to his chest. The Alphas were both tight wires, waiting to snap, trying to just hold it together. The smell of the gore caking Sam's unconscious body turned Dean's stomach and boiled his blood. He took in the array of bite marks, the steady seeping of blood and worse from between his younger brother's buttocks, and did everything he could to just hold it together.

They didn't say a word on the drive back, or when they got home and Dean filled the tub and cleaned the wrecked body gently, draining and refilling the tub four times before the water finally remained clear. They were quiet even after Sam was dressed and Dean had climbed onto the bed beside him, sitting back against the headboard as his brother slept.

Bobby leaned agains the door frame, knowing instinctively that Dean wouldn't let anyone near Sam, even pack, and that the wire holding the young Alpha together may finally snap if he got closer.

They watched Sam sleep, waited for him to wake, and they didn't say a damned word.