When The World Ends, a supernatural fanfic

Title: When The World Ends

Genre: Slash, Romance, Fluff, Established Relationship, Wincest

Words: 7,169

Rating: Light-R

Warnings: Angst, Violence.

Disclaimer: In no way mine. It's all lies.

Summary: When a simple demon exorcism goes wrong Sam is left physically and emotionally beaten. The demon played on his every insecurity over his relationship with his brother, so now it's up to Dean to show Sam exactly how he really feels.

A/N: Based on a prompt by imogen_lily. Also my first Wincest fic yay! Please review and tell me what you think. :)

A/N 2: So this is the first of the one-shot prompts that I asked for when I wrote the last chapter of Bitter Trust. I originally intended for this to be a couple of thousand words at the most but it kinda turned into a monster fic. I'll be posting one of these fics in-between chapters of Bitter Trust until they're all finished. Hope you enjoy.:)

When The World Ends

"Come on, we only have an hour before we have to pick Ben up from baseball."

"I've never had this dream before . . . stop looking at me like that."

"Sorry."

"Dean . . . I love you." *

Sam slowly came back to consciousness, as he did he instinctively reached out a hand to the other side of the king-sized bed only to find it empty . . . again. Cold too, so obviously no-one had occupied it in a while – but then, that was becoming the norm. Blinking his eyes open Sam fully confirmed what he already knew. Dean was already up and gone. Sighing Sam turned over onto his back to stare aimlessly at the ceiling.

When Dean had first come to him asking if they could try again, go back to the way things were between them before, before hell, Lisa, the apocalypse, Ruby – before all of that. Go back to when their relationship meant more to the two of them than anything else in the world, when they were not just brothers and hunting partners, but lovers too. When Dean had asked him that, Sam had been thrilled – he'd never stopped loving Dean and the years spent with him but not really with him were the hardest of Sam's life. He wasn't sure it was possible for him to be any happier than he was in that moment when Dean confessed that Sam was the only person he'd ever truly loved. Of course, feeling the exact same way about his brother, Sam had believed him. Only now he wasn't so sure. Lately Dean had become . . . distant – cold almost.

Sam never knew what his brother was thinking anymore when before he could read the older Winchester like a book. Over the past few weeks it seemed that Dean had begun to close himself off from Sam more and more, shutting him out almost completely. Dean was now always the first to rise in the mornings, sloping off to procure breakfast long before Sam woke and at night he'd started leaving Sam to his own devices in the latest motel room they'd hired while he went off to whatever bar was closest. If it were possible for the state of their 'relationship' to be any worse than that, then it was, during the day. Their recent conversations were . . . stilted at best, punctuated with the most awkward silences – and Sam couldn't even remember the last time they'd had sex.

He wanted to put it down to stress, say that Dean was simply agitated after everything that had happened with Castiel and add to that the on-going game of cat-and-mouse with the newly-escaped leviathans on top . . . but Sam wasn't stupid, he knew there was more to it, that there was something else going on here and whatever it was he knew Dean would never tell him.

It was thoughts like this that gave rise to the dream he'd freshly woken from. He knew that anything that was between Dean and Lisa was long over – she didn't even remember him anymore thanks to Cas's intervention – but he still couldn't help thinking back to the case with the dream-root user a few years back. That small glimpse inside his brother's head had shown him enough to make him doubt whether Dean was truly happy with him. Was Dean really still in love with Lisa? Was he just settling for Sam because he know knew that he could never have her?

At that moment the motel room door opened and Dean appeared, carrying a bag which presumably held their breakfast. Barely even casting a glance in Sam's direction he placed the bag on the small table and said:

"You still on bed? Get up, get dressed and get in the car. We've got a lead on the demon body-hopping all over town. Pretty sure we've got a definite location for where it's gonna be tonight, but we need to do a supply run first."

Sam sighed and moved to comply, all the time trying to pinpoint the exact moment when Dean had become less of a lover, less of a brother and more of a drill sergeant.

The demon was rogue, that much was clear. Ever since Crowley had taken charge of the pit he'd strived to keep his minions less feral barbarians and more organized henchmen. It would seem that one demon wasn't happy to bow down before his new king's rules though. No, this wasn't a mook working under Crowley's orders, this was pure strategic savage. This demon seemed to have a penchant for causing as much pain and misery as possible, so to do that it had been possessing residents of a small town on the outskirts of Iowa, forcing them to watch while it slowly tortured and killed the person closest to them with their own hands and they were utterly powerless to stop it. As soon as it was finished the demon jumped ship to start the cycle all over again, leaving a trail of bloodied dead bodies, devastated to the point of mental-break ex-hosts and baffled police officers wondering how such a sudden and violent spate of murders could have erupted in their quiet town.

Dean was spot-on with his hint that the demon would hit-up the local bar that night. Turns out that the bartender had recently got engaged to his high-school sweetheart, making him a prime target for possession. The traces of sulphur left on the window of the back-door were evidence enough that this guy was next on the hit-list. They'd managed to get the jump on him as he went through to the back-room (luckily before he could escape to go home and carve up his new fiancé). Getting him strapped to the chair beneath the devils trap Dean had sprayed on the ceiling earlier in the day proved easy – getting him to shut the hell up was proving much harder.

"Sam! You might wanna think about sending this asshole back to hell before the cops turn up!"

"Aww, what's the matter Dean?" it mocked as blue eyes flicked black. "All this time on the road and you're still flunking Latin? Shame on you, making little brother do all the work."

"You can keep your pie-hole shut you murdering douche. Sam!"

"But it's true isn't it?" Turning it's attention to Sam the demon continued. "You are left with all the work aren't you? I mean come on – who does all the research while Mr anger-management goes out and feeds his alcoholic tenancies? Who is always left to finish any part of a hunt that requires more than just brute-strength, a firearm and a bad attitude? Pretty one-sided partnership if you ask me – fifty words of Latin shouldn't be too much to ask, but some how with Dean it is."

"Sam! Don't stand there and listen to it! Get rid of it!"

Taking a deep breath Sam began the exorcism rite.

" Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus . . ."

The demon began to laugh.

"Oh, did I forget to show you my party trick?"

The demon began to incant, the words muffled but familiar, at some point, to late to stop the rapid flow of words, it became clear that the demon was using the same incantation that Meg had when she'd possessed Sam all those years ago. A sickening crack was heard as the ceiling split right through thee middle of the devil's trap, breaking its spell. Rising to its feet the demon gloated:

"Much better. You know, you Winchesters should really stop underestimating us."

With a wave of its hand the demon pinned Dean to the far wall with unseen force before lunging at Sam, wrapping its hand around his throat and lifting the younger Winchester into the air with supernatural strength. As Sam grabbed onto the hand clutching his throat and fought for air the demon seemed to survey him in a state of semi-bored fascination.

"So this is it? The great Winchesters, hunters extrodinare. The very same Winchesters who single-handedly took down Azazel, Lilith, Alistair and Lucifer. We're taught to fear you – but just look at you now. You're nothing, you're human – just a couple of pathetic meat-sacks with too much stolen luck on your side, and that luck ran out the second you stepped foot in this town."

The demon squeezed it's hand around Sam's throat tighter, crushing the man's windpipe before throwing him into the wall opposite and advancing on the crumpled body. Reaching its target the demon knelt over's Sam's prone form.

Dean's words rang out like a gunshot as the demon turned to look at his helplessly pinned form, a smile on its face.

"Get the hell away from him! If you touch him I swear to God . . ."

With little more than a nod of its head the demon took away the older Winchester's voice, cutting off whatever threat he was about to make.

Looking back towards its previous goal the demon saw that while still winded and unable to talk, Sam was still managing to cast worried eyes in the direction of his brother.

Fresh laughter erupted from it causing Sam's attention to refocus on it and his current situation.

"Pathetic." It sneered. "Even now you're still worried about him over yourself, even now you're still allowing him to walk all over you – haven't you figured it out yet? He doesn't care about you! Not the same way you care about him."

The demon once again reached out a hand and wrapped it around Sam's throat while it reared its other one back and launched a powerful fist into its target's face.

"If he loved you so much then why were his happiest moments spent with Lisa? Why did he move on with her so quickly after you sacrificed yourself to the pit? He didn't even give you a second thought for a year until he absolutely had to – after all, having you turn up at his door is kinda hard to ignore."

The demon punched again, causing a deep split to appear in Sam's bottom lip, blood gushed from the fresh wound.

" . . . but he tried though didn't he? Even after he knew you were back from hell he tried to forget you. He did everything in his power to stay away, to keep his cushy new life with Lisa and Ben. After all, with them he could at least pretend he was normal, normal girlfriend that's not related to him, normal kid – so what if it's not his biologically, it's still more than you could ever give him. He only came back to you when he had to, when she moved on because he couldn't. Have you ever wondered how much he resents you for that? For not being her? For taking her away from him?"

The grip on Sam's throat tightened as the demon threw yet another punch, revelling in the sound of bone crunching as the blow caught Sam's nose, a fresh torrent of blood bursting from his nostrils.

"And it's not just her is it Sam? It's not just Lisa he'd rather have over you, it's really . . . just about anyone isn't it? I mean, you try to tell yourself that he loves you, that's he's with you so everything else is o.k. . . . but it's not is it? If he really loved you then why does he still go out every night and flirt with everything that moves? Oh, he's loyal I'll give you that, he's never strayed past flirting while he's been with you – but that doesn't mean he doesn't want to, and if he still wants to . . . what does that say about how he really feels about you?"

Once again the demon launched an attack of fists upon Sam's face, by now the younger Winchester was beginning to look like a bloodied mess, the red flow covered most of his face like some gory mask making his features almost recognizable.

"Truth it that he's ashamed of you. He only stays with you because he's scared that if he doesn't you'll go off the deep-end again – I mean let's face it your track-records not exactly good is it? If he leaves what's to stop you going back to the demon blood? What's to stop you becoming evil? That's the reason he stays, that's the only reason he stays. I mean come on, the guy is obsessed with the idea that hunters or not, one day the worlds gonna end bloody, and probably because he's looking forward to it, looking forward to the time when he'll finally be free of you. When the world finally does end do you really think he'll look back on his time with you and think 'time well spent'? Do you really think that if he could choose anyone to spend his final moments with it would be you? Don't delude yourself. He doesn't care about you. He doesn't love you."

Sam was near the point of blacking out both from the pain of his injuries and the severe lack of oxygen he was managing to force through his restricted windpipe into his deprived lungs. Yet, possibly by hunter's instinct alone, as the demon reared back for another blow Sam managed to reach the flask of holy water he's dropped when the creature had freed itself. After a few tries he was able to get a good grip on the flash and brought it up to splash the contents over his tormentor.

The demon howled in pain and immediately dropped his hold of Sam as steam began to rise from the area the blessed water had touched. Turning back to his victim with the intention of revenge, the demon stopped when it felt the cool blade of the demon-killing knife at its throat. Dean Winchester pressed the blade harder into the skin of its neck causing a shallow wound that made the demon wince, he moved closer behind the demon and leaned his head down so that his mouth was close by the demon's ear.

"If you weren't possessing some poor innocent bastard right now I'd slit your throat myself you son of a bitch. Now, as much as I really want to be the one to kill you I'm not going to murder your victim to do it. Instead I'm going to send you back where you belong, and I'm sure the big man on campus already knows all about what you've been getting up to, I hear he likes to make an example of demons that go against his orders . . . say hi to Crowley for me.

Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, et secta diabolica,
Ergo draco maledicte et sectio omnis legio diabolica
Ergo draco maledicte et legio secta diabolica

Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine.
Ut Ecclésiam tuam secúra tibi fácias servire libertáte, te rogámus, audi nos."

After ensuring that the demon's last host was o.k. Dean had bundled Sam into the impala and broke speed limits getting back to the motel room.

Once inside Dean began looking for the first aid kit, cursing up a storm when he couldn't retrieve it as quick as he wanted while Sam stood in the middle of the room, feeling the blood dying on his face, lost in thought over what the demon had said. He knew that demons lie and that they couldn't be trusted as far a you could throw them of course . . . but this one had really got to him. It saw every single one of his insecurities and it used them against him. He tried to block it out and concentrate on whatever Dean was saying to him but he found that he just couldn't do it.

"Sam, do you have any idea where the first aid kit is?"

If he loved you so much then why were his happiest moments spent with Lisa?

"I know you're the one that got bashed up but I could really use your help here . . ."

with them he could at least pretend he was normal, normal girlfriend that's not related to him, normal kid – so what if it's not his biologically, it's still more than you could ever give him.

"Sam!"

he's never strayed past flirting while he's been with you – but that doesn't mean he doesn't want to.

"Sam are you even hearing me?"

He only stays with you because he's scared that if he doesn't you'll go off the deep-end again . . . When the world finally does end do you really think he'll look back on his time with you and think 'time well spent'?

"Sam are you o.k.?"

He doesn't love you.

"Sammy, hey, snap out of it."

He doesn't love you.

Sam jerked back to the present when Dean grabbed his arm.

"Sam are you alright, you fazed out for a while there . . . did the demon hit head that hard?"

He doesn't love you.

"It's fine."

"Well we need to get it cleaned up as soon as anyway, you know head wounds are a bitch."

As he said it Dean had already begun to dab Sam's bloodies face with a wet cloth . . . and when had he even got that? Sam must've been more out of it than he thought.

He doesn't love you.

"Why do you even care?"

Dean paused his ministrations briefly at that.

"What?"

"I said, why do you even care?"

"Well I'm not gonna give you a list . . . what do you want, a poem?"

He doesn't love you.

"No, I guess not . . . get off me I can do it myself."

Sam pushed Dean's hand away and made to move towards the bathroom when Dean grabbed his wrist halting the movement.

"Is this about what the demon said . . . because you know none of it was true right?"

"Sure."

"Dammit, I thought you'd know . . . that you'd understand why . . . you know what – no. This isn't happening. This is exactly what the demon wants and It's not happening – I'm not letting it! You're so insistent on doing it yourself – fine, go wash the blood off your face and then get back in the car."

"Where are we going . . ."

"Later – now clean up, it's a good thing that demon didn't leave anything that needed stitches or we'd have to postpone . . ."

"Postpone what?"

"Like I said – Later. Now are you going to get cleaned up or are you going to let me do it for you? Either way we're leaving in ten minutes."

Confused Sam shook his wrist loose from Dean's grip and continued on towards the bathroom.

Thirty minutes later the impala pulled up outside one of the fanciest hotels Sam had ever seen in his life.

"Dean, what are doing here?"

"What's it look like? We're staying here."

"What? Are you insane? We can't afford to stay here!"

"No, but Richard Samborah can."

Dean waved the phoney credit card triumphantly.

"I can't believe you're even still using that card."

"Sammy, I explained this before – Bon Jovi rocks . . . on occasion, and on this occasion they're getting us into that hotel, so stop complaining."

With that Dean was out of the impala and walking towards the front desk of the hotel before Sam could utter another word of protest.

The hotel room Dean had booked them into, much like everything else in the place, was beautiful. The bed that took up about a quarter of the space in the room was easily big enough to be a California king-sized. There was a fully stocked fridge and mini-bar (Both of which Dean was immensely pleased with), A huge T.V. With cable and the adjoining bathroom was almost as big as the room itself, containing a bath that was practically an indoor jacuzzi. Sam stood in the centre of the room and took in it's opulence. While on the one hand he was thrilled with Dean's 'little' treat, he was slightly wary as well. After all he was by no means used to the true luxury he was currently surrounded in and more worryingly, he had no idea why Dean had suddenly decided to bring them here. Deciding to leave the questioning until later and just enjoy himself for now, Sam placed his bag on the left side of the bed and made his way over to the mini-bar to grab a beer, as he did, he couldn't help but wonder at the odd, almost longing look Dean gave him as he passed by.

Later that night as they were sat on the sofa in front of the hi-tech T.V. Sam decided that now was as good a time as any to bring up his questions.

"Dean?"

"Yeah Sammy?"

"Not that I don't love the hotel or appreciate it or anything, but . . . why are we here? Why suddenly splash out on something like this . . . I don't understand why you're doing this."

Taking a deep breath Dean turned off the T.V. and turned to Sam, giving him his full attention.

"Sammy, you know I love you right?"

Sam hesitated for a moment before finally answering with an appeasing and unsure "Yes?"

Dean sighed again, this time in frustration.

"Except, no, you don't know do you? I always just assumed that whatever happened you'd just know that I loved you but you obviously don't – and I get it, that's my fault . . . I don't tell you enough, I don't show you enough just how much you mean to me . . . and the way I've been acting these past few months . . . god, it's a wonder you don't hate me – but there's a reason for it, I swear there is and I can't explain it right now but I swear I will . . . just give me some time o.k? As for all of this – well, you of all people know how hard it is for me to talk about my . . . feelings, so I figured I'd show them instead. I know I'm not the easiest person in the world to be with but I do love you – everything that demon said was bullshit, you are the only person I've ever felt this way for and I'm gonna do everything in my power to prove that to you, to show you what you mean to me . . . will you let me?"

The uncharacteristic nervousness in Dean's voice ensured Sam answered positively and when Dean leaned forward and pressed his lips to Sam's in a kiss so loving and tender that it took the younger man's breath away, he could almost believe that what Dean had said was true.

The next morning when Sam woke he instinctively knew that once again he was in bed alone. Resigning himself to another day of pretending that everything was fine he rolled over to the side of the bed. Opening his eyes however he spotted something wholly unexpected. Sitting on the side-table only an inch or two next to Sam's face was a single red rose, sitting up Sam saw that underneath that there was a neatly folded note. Quickly snatching up the paper Sam opened it and began to read.

'Should I fall out of love, my fire in the light

To chase a feather in the wind

Within the glow that weaves a cloak of delight

There moves a thread that has no end.

For many hours and days that pass ever soon

the tides have caused the flame to dim

At last the arm is straight, the hand to the loom

Is this to end or just begin?