Only a Memory
Warnings: Graphic non-con (which will not last forever), Wincest, graphic depictions of violence. Boyking!Sam
Hi guys! This is VERY different to anything I've ever written before, but I really wanted to get it down before my brain exploded. Anyway, hope you enjoy, but heed the warnings: don't like, don't read it please!
Dean took in the scene before him silently, struggling to hear past the deafening mix of the thud thud thud of his heart and the screaming panic making black voids blur his vision.
A smile; a twitch of the lips that barely lasted a second, but expressed the true extent of the man's internal smug satisfaction. His triumph. "Hi Dean."
Grey eyes. High level demon.
Dean fingers twitched, seeking the demon killing knife instinctively, but managed to suppress the urge by clenching his fists. His jaw tightened as his eyes flickered around Bobby's living room, the need to rush forwards - to plead, to SCREAM -making him physically tremble.
Bobby.
The son of a bitch was possessing Bobby.
"Get out of him." He growled; it was the only pitch he could maintain without a detectable tremor. If this bastard had done anything to Bobby while he was gone, the only god damn person who didn't blame him for the end of times, blood was going to spill. "Now!"
The demon tutted, chuckling. It was so painfully familiar, so typically BOBBY, that it made Dean's stomach turn and bile sting the back to his throat. He swallowed hard, having to look away, jaw clenched and hands trembling. When he turned back, he forced himself to focus on the simmering anger under his skin.
Rather that than fear. Because he knew exactly what this demon being here meant for him.
"Sorry Dean, can't do that," Bo...the demon practically purred. "But you know what YOU'RE gonna do?" He took a step forwards, eyes flashing back to Bobby's natural dark brown colour. Dean tensed, standing his ground. "You're gonna be a good little bitch and stay exactly where you are so that I can summon Sam."
All anger and fight that had previously enveloped Dean drained away instantaneously, along with most of the blood in his face. His heart stuttered painfully in his chest, body hyper-alert in panic. "No, wait-" he choked out.
"Yes DEAN," he took a step forwards, eyes flicking pointedly to the door. "And I think your girlfriends agree with me Winchester."
Dean's blood ran cold and he turned sharply to the door. Ellen and Jo, who he'd told to go upstairs dammit, were being held by two other demons, mouths covered and eyes wide as they stared at him. They were trying to speak to him, jerking away from their captors, but their efforts were fruitless. Dean didn't understand a word.
"Play the game Dean," the demon behind him spoke brightly, sounding far too cheerful considering the glare Dean sent him.
But the rewards for handing him in were immense, that much Dean knew; the son of a bitch had a right to be pleased.
The demon pointed to him, grinning and moving around the room, deliberately avoiding the key of Solomon. "You stay put while I summon your brother and everyone lives!" Dean's expression remained stony.
The demon pouted; a look that was truly hideous on Bobby's face. "C'mon Dean, it's a good deal; better than any the other demons would have given you."
Dean didn't care; he would rather the demon stab him than face his brother. What his brother wanted him to do - he'd rather die.
But he couldn't let Bobby, Ellen and Jo die. He wouldn't - he couldn't. They were everything; his only friends in the dystopian world his brother had created.
He had to keep them safe.
He shut his eyes, head bowed, and murmured. "Do it."
The demon inclined his head, though his eyes glittered smugly. "Sorry, didn't quite catch that."
Dean lifted his head and practically shouted. "Do it!" He gritted his teeth tightly, deliberately ignoring the muffled sound of Ellen and Jo screaming at him. "Summon the son of a bitch here. Just make sure you let them go."
The demon grinned. "Of course." He shut his eyes, mumbling under his breath. The demons holding Ellen and Jo moved away from them, shoving them towards Dean before leaving through the front door; he could see them smoking out of their meatsuit's from the window.
Ellen had tears in her eyes, mouth a thin line and wobbling. Dean couldn't look at her.
Dean only had a moment to acknowledge the heaviness of the air and push the two hunters away from him, feeling the raw undiluted panic that came with Sam's overbearing presence; only a moment later, a hand closed softly around his neck and stroked the fine hairs there gently. The hand was too warm, bordering on painful, but not pressing hard enough to cause any real damage.
He shut his eyes as he felt his brother nuzzle the soft skin behind his ear with his nose, tongue darting out for a split-second to taste before whispering; his voice was deep, practically a purr.
"Dean."
That one word was enough to send cold shivers down his spine, though the breath was hot on his ear; if he clenched his jaw anymore, Dean was sure he was going to crack a tooth.
"Are you done running now?"
Dean was quiet for a moment, heart beating loud enough that he was sure everyone could hear it. He tried to ignore the raging silence in the room, broken only by Bobby's barely stifled moans and Jo's quiet sobs.
Bobby was struggling not to choke on his words. "Dean- d-don't! You-" A wave of oppressive power, a quiet cry of pain, and Bobby fell silent. Dean still refused to look.
He didn't want to see his brother's yellow eyes.
Dean's voice was barely audible, trying to keep his voice steady as Sam stroked his thumb absentminded my across his jugular. "For now."
The temperature in the room dropped significantly, crackling with an unseen electricity that he just KNEW was his brothers suppressed anger. The hand stroking his neck stilled; Dean immediately realised that it would have been easier if he had just said yes. He was going with Sam either way.
Sam's hand suddenly tightened and Dean's own hands jerked in alarm to push them away, failing miserably as his brother just held both arms in an iron grip and twisted them behind his back.
Pain suddenly exploded, well, EVERYWHERE, like electricity. It ran through his arms, from Sam, through his chest, down his legs; it tore a choked scream from his throat that made his own ears ring.
Eyes snapping open, his legs gave out on him; his vision darkened but didn't completely give out. He wasn't granted that mercy.
It took Dean several seconds to realise Sam was talking to him. "Wrong answer," Sam's voice was too light considering that Dean was basically being held up by his brother, pressed to his chest tightly as Sam cooed soothingly in his ear. It made him want to gag. "You're mine Dean."
Dean's eyes slid shut once more.
"You leave them alone," He murmured, voice wrecked and barely audible. His jaw trembled. "You keep the demons away and you let them live- do you understand me?"
Sam laughed; a soft breathy sound that made Dean's skin crawl. "Perfectly," he assured. "But why should I? What makes you think that I have the slightest inclination to do anything you say?"
Dean opened his eyes slowly and turned his head slightly. "Because I swear to god, anything happens to them," he threatened vehemently. "And I won't do a fucking you ask me to-"
Sam laughs again- properly this time, body shaking with it and letting his forehead rest on Dean's shoulder. For the first time, Dean looks over to Jo, Ellen and Bobby while he has the chance. They're pale, shaking; Bobby's on the floor, too-wet eyes trained on Sam unwaveringly as his jaw trembled, Ellen propping him up against her as best as she can, watching the scene before her with wide and frightened eyes. Jo was watching, but residual tears were wet in her cheeks.
Sam finally finished, still expelling breaths of residual laughter. "Dean," For the first time since this shit started, his brother sounds almost like he used to. Voice genuinely amused and light, like he'd done something particularly funny. "What makes you think I'm going to need or want you to do anything willingly?"
Dean's heart plummeted in his chest. The room was completely silent.
"Let me make this clear to you," his voice has lowered slightly, but the patronising and mocking tone is still there. "This," he grips Dean's arms tightly, plastering himself against his older brother's body so that his body can feel every inch of him. "Is not going to be a relationship. I don't want you to kiss my ass and love me, do what I want without question; don't need you to." He leaned in close to Dean, who was trying his best not to fall apart.
"This is a dictatorship," Sam hissed, biting Dean's earlobe hard enough to make Dean jerk and gasp in surprise. "I own you now. You don't get a choice- whether I get your consent is up to you, but I'm taking what I want whether you want to give it or not." He kissed gently at the side of his brother's face, making Dean nearly whimper. "Do YOU understand, Dean?"
Dean gagged, choking on the bile that had been forming since the start of this conversation and spitting it onto the floor.
He felt Sam smile against his neck. "Good."
