Description: Dean makes a deal; his time is up, and Sam is completely oblivious.
Warnings: (W)incest, character death.
Disclaimer: I own nothing; Sam and Dean belong to Eric Kripke, along with anything else relating to Supernatural.
A/N: I wrote this as a spur-of-the-moment fic, just to test my skill on writing character deaths. So, I apologize in advance if it's not good, or is poorly written, or anything like that.
Dean woke up to the sounds of car horns outside the motel, his eyes snapping open to stare at the broken, cracked ceiling above him. Today was the last day; Dean's last, and no one knew it but him, and the demon that took his deal. With a sigh, Dean turned over onto his side, his eyes falling on Sam with his brown bangs covering his closed eyes.
Looking at Sam broke Dean's heart; he knew that his brother would be devastated once he found out what the eldest had done, and Dean didn't know if he'd be able to live with that. A broken chuckle came from Dean's throat as he realized that irony of what he thought and he leaned over; lips brushing along Sam's tanned shoulder, skin brushing against his collarbone before Dean rested his head on his brother's chest.
He listened to Sam's breathing and lifted a hand from underneath the sheet, running his fingertips along Sam's side lightly. Dean closed his eyes and thought of all the things he would miss; the warmth of Sam's body next to his own, the sound of Sam's voice, the feel of Sam's lips against his own, and every inch of his body. Choking back a sob, Dean shut his eyes even tighter and breathed in Sam's scent, taking it all in and subjecting it to memory.
Not that he would have much of that where he was going. Dean figured all of his memories would be taken away from him when he was in the pit, but he still tried to keep things in his mind. Like Sam's voice, the way he would laugh when Dean did something stupid, and the way Sam looked at him; all of those things were stored, carefully, in his thoughts and he'd be damned if Lucifer - or some demon - took them from them.
As Dean thought about everything - his life, his brother, his family (or what little he had left of it) - Sam stirred underneath him and Dean felt arms wrapping around his body, holding him close. Forcing himself to smile, Dean opened his eyes and lifted his head, watching Sam open his own eyes, a grin playing at the corner of his lips.
"Afternoon, sleepy," Dean whispered and lifted a hand, brushing Sam's bangs out of his eyes, the smile on his face growing. Looking in Sam's eyes, Dean knew he would never forget them, not in a million years, and he swallowed hard, blinking back at tears that threatened to surface.
"'Noon. " Sam's voice was heavy with sleep and Dean grinned, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his brother's lips. Their kiss started out slow, and innocent, but when Dean straddled Sam's hips, the youngest Winchester kissed the eldest back with passion.
Sam's hands planted on Dean's back, pulling his body down onto his own, groaning when Dean bit his bottom lip. Both men pulled away when Dean started grinding his hips into Sam, his hands threaded into the younger brother's hair, tugging gently. As Dean worked his hips against Sam, all thoughts about his death - which was less than 12 hours away - went out the window, replaced with thoughts of Sam, and the moment they were in.
Without warning, Sam grabbed Dean's hips and flipped him onto his back, grinding his hips against his brother's as his head dropped, lips pressing against Dean's neck. Closing his eyes, Dean wrapped his legs around Sam's hips, his legs hooking around his younger sibling's, hands shoved in the mop of dark-brown hair on top of Sam's head.
Dean inhaled deeply, one hand tugging at Sam's hair while the other moved to his back, digging at his tan skin. Sam growled against Dean's skin as he roughly pushed their hips together, eliciting moans from the older Winchester's mouth. Swallowing hard, Dean moaned and bucked his hips against Sam, turning his head to whisper soft phrases in his brother's ear - phrases like, I love you, I want you, and I need you.
Sam pulled away, unhinging Dean's legs from his own and dropping them to the bed, looking down at his brother with a smile. Dean chewed on the inside of his lip, trying to keep himself calm as he stared at the way Sam looked in that moment; cataloging it in his mind forever.
"Want you to ride me, Sammy," Dean whispered as he ran a shaky hand up Sam's stomach and chest, swallowing hard as he dropped his eyes. Fearful that he might cry at the sight of Sam's smiling face, Dean dropped his attention to Sam's boxers, and moved his hands to the waistband, giving it a tug.
"You sure?" Sam asked, running his hands down Dean's legs, watching his brother nod before feeling the elastic of his boxers pull away from his hips. Sighing, Sam nodded, fingers stopping at the band of Dean's boxers, before he was pulling them down, freeing his cock.
Sam backed up on the bed, pulling Dean's boxers down his thighs and shins, before removing them; dropping the material to the floor. Smiling down at Dean, Sam stood beside the bed and shimmied out of his own boxers, kicking them to the side before crawling on top of Dean.
Sighing, Dean sat up a little in bed, hands on either of Sam's hips before he leaned up, brushing his lips against Sam's. He swallowed hard and pulled away, biting at his lower lip before turning his head and leaning over, opening the drawer to the nightstand next to the bed.
When Dean leaned back, he held an almost empty bottle of lube and popped it open, pouring the sticky liquid onto his fingers. He handed the bottle to Sam before maneuvering his hand under his brother, pressing two fingers against Sam's ass. Pushing the digits in, Dean closed his eyes and listened to Sam gasping against the cold liquid, along with the intrusion of Dean's fingers, and smiled. That's another thing he was going to miss; Sam's reactions to anything they did sexually.
As Sam gasped and moaned, Dean pushed his fingers in deeper and scissored them slowly, getting Sam ready, even though he didn't need it. After a moment, Dean pulled his fingers out and took the bottle from Sam, pouring more lube on his hand before rubbing it on his cock.
"You're not going to use a condom?" Sam panted, biting his lip softly as he watched Dean stroke his cock, getting it slick. Dean looked up, a smile on his lips as a few tears rimmed his eyes, shaking his head slowly.
"Not this time, Sammy," Dean whispered, his voice broken as he leaned in, lips brushing against Sam's as he gripped his brother's hips, guiding him down onto his cock. Sam gasped against Dean's kiss and caught his bottom lip between his teeth, biting it softly as Dean's cock entered him.
Sam settled on Dean's cock with a groan, moving his hips back and forth, causing the oldest brother to moan out and lean his head back. Swallowing hard, Dean felt Sam ride him slowly, his muscles tightening and relaxing against his cock. The heat of Sam felt amazing, and Dean put that in his memory too, not wanting to forget it. That entire moment - Sam riding him, Dean with his hands wrapped tightly around Sam's hips; their moment of passion, it was all locked away in Dean's memory.
Dean pulled up on Sam's hips, urging him to go faster and Sam got the hint - moving his hips roughly against Dean's, riding him faster and as hard as he could. The only sounds that filled the tiny motel room were the sound of skin slapping against skin, panting, and moans and groans from the boys. Dean took it all in, feeling his cock throb deep inside of Sam's ass as he roughly pushed up against his brother, wrapping his arms around Sam's torso.
Pulling Sam closer, Dean held onto him and rolled them over; hovering over Sam with a smile, their eyes locked on one another's. Dean leaned down and kissed Sam, wrapping the young man's legs around his hips as he held himself up and slowly thrust into Sam. As they kissed, Sam moaned, only to have it muffled by Dean's lips and tongue, as he felt Dean slamming into him harder.
Dean was trying to make this one count; trying to make this the one time where he and Sam were making love, instead of just fucking. He wanted to make it special, or as special as he could in a no-name motel room. Which is why Dean was going slow and kissing Sam, instead of just blindly slamming into him. Dean wanted Sam to feel as good as he did; wanted to give him as much attention as he could, before midnight.
Sam clenched his muscles around Dean's cock and moved his hand to his own shaft, stroking it slowly as their tongues wrestled in his mouth. Shutting his eyes, Sam groaned into Dean's mouth, causing him to push deeper into Sam and moan into the kiss. As Dean thrust in and out, Sam stroked his cock, feeling his entire body shudder, his balls tighten, and his skin slicking with sweat - both his and Dean's.
"Cum for me, Sammy," Dean whispered when he pulled away from Sam's lips and leaned his forehead against Sam's, panting against his lips. Arching his back, Sam bucked his hips against Dean's and whined, his hand flying up and down his cock as Dean thrust into him harder, grunting.
"Come on, baby," Dean mumbled, lifting one hand to run through Sam's damp hair, before he cupped his jaw, thumb running over Sam's bottom lip. As Sam stroked his cock harder, pushing himself closer to an orgasm, Dean watched him, chewing on his bottom lip and feeling his own climax fast approaching.
With one last grunt, Sam shot thick, hot streaks of cum all over himself and Dean, panting heavily as his hand slowed down and Dean picked up pace. All it took was three more rough thrusts for Dean to bury himself inside of Sam, cumming hard inside of him and breathing hard. He moved his hips slowly, riding the orgasm out until he had no more to give and pulled out, collapsing next to Sam.
They lay there, panting heavily and recovering from their orgasms; both of them sticky and covered in sweat, along with Sam's cum. A few minutes later, Dean sat up in bed and looked down at Sam, who was falling back asleep, before leaning in and kissing him softly. After he kissed Sam, Dean stood up and walked to the bathroom, quietly shutting the door behind him and looking in the mirror.
Looking at his reflection, Dean could see flames behind him; black eyes replacing his green ones, and he thought he could hear growling. Dropping his head, Dean struggled to breathe, shaking his head back and forth before looking back at the mirror. This time, it was just Dean; the ugly, rose-covered wallpaper behind him where the flames had been and his own green eyes were there, instead of the black ones.
The day went by as planned; the boys met up with Bobby, because Dean has insisted that they see the old hunter and see if he knew of any jobs. The real reason Dean wanted to see Bobby was because, after John died, the old man was all Dean had as a father figure.
So, when they had arrived at Bobby's house, Dean had pulled the man into a crushing hug, and hadn't let him go until Sam pulled Dean away. Bobby had, of course, asked Dean what had gotten into him, and he'd said nothing; lying to the only family he had left.
Bobby told Sam and Dean that there were no jobs around locally, but invited them to stay for dinner, and beers. They accepted, with no reluctance or hesitating, and Dean watched Sam and Bobby walk into the kitchen. He was all alone in Bobby's study, surrounded by devil's traps, iron, and salt, but he didn't feel safe; the closer it got to midnight, the more afraid Dean got.
When Bobby and Sam had come back, Dean was on the couch, curled up with his hands to his face, tears pouring from his eyes. They had left him alone, and eventually Dean had fallen asleep for hours, finally waking up when Sam shook him.
He missed dinner, but Sam was taking a plate back to the motel with them, along with beers from Bobby. Dean had asked what time it was, and Sam told him it was nine, sending Dean into a bigger panic. Dean had a panic attack in the middle of the living room, the first of his entire life, and Bobby had asked him if he was alright.
"No," he choked out, pulling the hunter in for another hug; telling Bobby that he loved him, and letting tears roll down his cheeks. Bobby patted Dean's back and told him he loved him too, and that he was an idjit, which made Dean chuckle, before the tears flowed harder.
Then Sam and Dean were back on there way to the motel, Sam drove the Impala while Dean laid across the front seat, his head on Sam's lap. When Sam would stop at a stop sign - or light - he'd look down at Dean and frown, wondering what was wrong with him.
Now it was 11:56 and Dean was sitting on the floor beside his bed, the plate of food from Bobby's sitting in front of him, half-eaten. Dean had only eaten a little, figuring he didn't need to eat before the Hounds came busting through the door and tore him to pieces.
Sam kept an eye on Dean the entire time they'd been back; had tried to hold him, but every time Sam touched him, Dean had pulled away, crying harder. So, Sam had taken a seat in front of Dean, watching him twitch and look at the clock every minute or so.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Dean's eyes followed the hand of the clock as it landed on 11:57, and pulled his knees to his chest, tears falling from his eyes. He moved his eyes to Sam and motioned for his brother to come to him, his hand trembling slightly.
Sam slid onto the floor in front of Dean, leaning back on his heels as he lifted a hand, brushing his fingers along Dean's cheek. He could feel Dean shaking, and his skin felt hot and sticky from sweating. To say Sam was worried would be an understatement; he was terrified and beyond afraid that something was happening to Dean.
"Sammy," Dean croaked out, resting a shaking hand on Sam's jaw as he leaned forward, kissing his brother softly. "I l-l-love you, Sammy.." Dean shut his eyes and felt hot tears fall down his cheek. Tickticktickticktickticktick. "I will always love you.. Promise me something?" Dean looked up at Sam, his eyes filled with tears and red from crying. Sam nodded and pulled Dean closer, holding him against his body as tightly as possibly.
"Promise me you'll be happy.. Move on and be happy.." Dean choked the words out and heard the clock ticking slower and slower, before lifting his gaze to the clock on the wall. The hands were almost to the twelve and Dean swallowed hard, pulling away from Sam, his eyes locked on his brother's.
"Please," Dean choked out, running trembling fingers down Sam's jaw, watching tears gather in his eyes. Blinking his eyes, Sam nodded and chewed on the inside of his lip, before opening his mouth to speak.
Before Sam could get a word out, Dean gasped; the ticking had stopped, replaced with the sound of something slamming against the door. He heard wood cracking, the chain across the door jingle, and then he heard the snarling of a dog. Dean whimpered and pushed Sammy away.
"Go into the bathroom, Sammy.." Dean whispered, pleading with his baby brother as he shrank back from the sounds from outside the door. He watched Sam's eyes move over him, before nodding and moving to the bathroom door. Sam shut the door and Dean stood, on shaky legs, and made his way to the door. He leaned down and pushed the line of salt away from the bottom of the door and stepped back, falling to his knees between the two beds in the room.
Tears poured from Dean's eyes as he heard the snarling get louder, followed by barking and the sound of wood breaking away from wood. Swallowing hard, Dean muttered, "I'm sorry Sammy, I love you," before he heard nails scratching against the wood floor, getting louder by the second.
Then he felt it; claws ripping at his chest as he fell backward, feeling blood pour from his skin and onto his shirt. Dean let out a scream, hearing a thud as the Hounds pushed him to the floor, feeling their claws tearing his flesh apart and listening to their jaws snap as they bit into his chest.
Dean felt blood pooling in throat and he coughed, head dropping to the side and blood falling from his slightly parted lips. The snarling went away, along with the growling and the scratching at his skin. Dean felt like he was on fire, and he reached up, hand shaking until it fell against the floor, going limp in a matter of seconds.
Blood pooled around Dean's body; claw-marks were all over his chest, arms, and legs - his clothes ripped to pieces, and bloody. Sam came out of the bathroom after hearing Dean cough one last time and saw him; lying on the floor in a mangled, bloody mess. Tears blurred Sam's vision as he dropped to the floor, taking Dean's body in his arms and sobbing quietly.
"Dean.." Sam sobbed out, gently pulling Dean's face to look up; his eyes locked on Dean's unmoving eyes, and doubled over his brother's body; choking out sobs. His tears mixed with Dean's blood as Sam sat there, cradling his brother's broken body, and screaming his name. Sam pulled it together enough to pull away and look down at Dean, reaching a hand out to touch the amulet around his neck. It was bloody, and seemingly untouched by whatever had attacked Dean.
As Sam touched Dean's necklace, he saw a corner of a white envelope hanging out of Dean's pocket. Blinking away tears, Sam pulled the paper out and examined it; it had a few drops of blood on it, and Sam was surprised that it had survived the attack.
Reluctantly, Sam set Dean's body back onto the floor before falling back onto the floor, envelope in hand. It took Sam a moment to collect himself before he opened the note; ripping it open carefully and retrieving two pieces of paper with a trembling hand.
Sam looked over at Dean's lifeless body, choking on a scream that threatened to escape, before moving his attention back to the paper in his hands. Sam began reading Dean's messy scrawl;
Sammy,
By now the Hell Hounds have gotten me, and I'm laying there, choking on my own blood or something. Sorry, I don't mean to be morbid. This letter it to tell you that I loved you - I always have, I just didn't know it until a year ago, after dad died. But, in order to keep you safe, and keep you alive so that I could love you.. I had to make a deal. Sammy, I made a deal for us - so we could be together, and I'd have my family, which was really ever only you and Bobby. I know you probably hate me, and I'm sorry.. Just promise me that you will have your own life, without me? Try the "apple pie" life or something; get a girl, have some kids… keep in touch with Bobby and invite him to spend the Holidays with your family.
But, if you could also promise me something else.. Never forget me, Sam - never forget the endless nights we made love, or just held onto each other. Never forget that I loved you, with my entire heart, and I wouldn't have traded you in for anything; and I mean that. I've had a lot of opportunity to find different things, to do my own thing, but you've always been my life. You've always been the one I come home to after a hunt, and lose myself in. And, I know our time was short, but it was amazing. And I want to thank you, Sammy; for loving me, even when I was a dick and I didn't deserve it. I'll miss you, more than anything, kid.
Tell Bobby I'm sorry, and that I love him - he might not have known this, but he was a better father to me than Dad ever was. Tell him that I'll miss him, and not to be sad; I did it for you, Sammy. I did it so you could stay alive. Tell him that he's got one more son, and that he better watch out for you, cause you can be a pain in the ass.. but, hey; you were my pain in the ass, and I liked it that way.
I love you, Samuel Winchester; and I always will, no matter if I'm on Earth, in Heaven, or in Hell… you will always have my heart.
I love you, Sasquatch.
Dean.
Sam crushed the letter to his chest and sobbed out, bring his knees up and resting his head on them. Dean was gone; had made a deal with the devil to safe Sam, and hadn't told anyone. Sam pulled his head away from his knees and folded the letter up, sticking it in his pocket before leaning in, removing Dean's necklace.
"I love you, Dean," Sam whispered and kissed Dean's lifeless lips, shutting his eyes and letting tears fall onto his brother's face. Sighing, Sam pulled away and lifted a hand, placing his fingers on Dean's eyelids before pushing them down. "You are an idiot," Sam choked out and chuckled, "but I love you more than anything."
Sam fell beside Dean, sobbing without tears as he stared at his brother - his lover - and felt his chest throb. Earlier that day they had been happy; making love and joking with each other, and now Dean was dead.. The only person that could make Sam happy was gone, and all he wanted to do was kill himself.
Closing his eyes, Sam fell asleep next to Dean's body, wrapping his hand around Dean's limp, lifeless hand. He held onto Dean the entire night as he slept, and didn't move away from the body until morning, when someone had banged on the door. Sam awoke, his eyes sore and chest hurting, and sat up; his eyes moving down to Dean.
Somehow, Sam had thought the previous night hadn't happened, and that he and Dean were laying in bed together, hand in hand. When Sam realized that Dean was really gone, the tears came flooding back and he ran to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him and leaning over the toilet bowl. Sam leaned against the bathtub, his entire body aching as he thought about Dean; his smile, his laugh, the sound of his voice… all those things he would never see, or hear, again.