Chapter 2/4
Pairing(s): Sam/Dean established relationship
Rating: R
Warnings: Explicit wincest, (my first!) bottom/Dean, swearing, chicken ganking!
Summary: Just another small town with a zombie problem...until it turns into much more than that! Voodoo magic is in the air and it's calling to the darkness within Sam as well as reanimating the dead.
Set sometime in season 2.
Chapter Warning: Explicit boysex – don't like... don't read!
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Dean slumped down on the mattress in the small rectory and watched as Sam dumped their bags on the floor, and then fumbled impatiently until he found the med kit.
As his brother sat down, Dean grasped Sam's hands and gently turned them over, running a finger lightly over the bruised and bloodied knuckles. Sam's skin felt warm under his touch, almost feverish.
"Sam she's wrong…"
"Don't." Sam pulled away searching through the supplies. He broke the plastic wrap on a fresh bandage and placed it on the bed beside his brother and the other items he had already laid out.
A sharp knock on the door and Dean grabbed his handgun, wincing as his arm protested as he motioned Sam to stay back.
"It's Charlie."A quiet voice sounded from outside.
Dean opened the door to Charlie and a younger man nervously looking around behind them and toting a rifle. The older man immediately held his hands out. "Take these and put them in each corner of the room. Chanté said they will stop the zombies from entering as long as the spell is sealed... or something. Here, she said to read this after you put the bags around."
Dean took the offered scrap of paper and the foul smelling bags. "What so now she wants to look after us? What's her deal with this anyways and how do I know these things are safe?"
"This is happening because of her... but it's not her fault. Chanté wouldn't hurt you, she's just trying to protect us. It's not my place to tell you, please meet with her in the morning and she'll explain." Charlie glanced over his shoulder nervously. "Listen I gotta get back inside."
"Yeah man, thanks."
Dean nodded then closed the door, shaking his head as he noticed the way his brother was now pacing the room like a caged animal.
"C'mon, help me do this, we really haven't got much choice. These hex bags reek enough to make even your feet smell good so I'm pretty sure they're the real thing."
The older hunter's attempt to divert his brother's attention and lighten the mood fell flat as Sam's hand hesitated almost nervously before he silently took two of the bags and placed them as instructed. Dean did the same and then read the spell, his voice still rough as he mentally kicked himself for making Sam take the hex bags without first checking if they would hurt his brother.
Everything about this hunt was already so screwed up.
Sam tried to calm himself as his brother finished with the spell and sat back on the bed, reaching for a bottle of water out of his bag. Sam could feel heat radiating out from his body and as he sat down near his brother, the feeling only intensified.
He silently helped Dean remove his outer shirt and t-shirt before he started to cleanse the bite mark on his brother's upper arm. Sam felt like his nerves were misfiring and he needed to move, needed to expel this energy because it was starting to almost hurt.
Gripping the bandage tightly he began to wind it around Dean's arm, pressing the tape down to hold it in place.
"Sam we'll work this out, we always do."
Dean watched as Sam's eyes looked anywhere but at him, a sure sign that his brother was anything but convinced.
"Listen to me…"
"Why Dean? What the hell are you going to say that explains why I couldn't set foot in that church? Please, tell me."
"It's voodoo Sam, she practices black magic and we all know how well that works out. For all we know it's some crazy ass magic gone wrong and you just happen to sense it Haley Joel. What other explanation is there?"
"You know I have something inside me Dean. The yellow eyed demon did something to me and she can see it. She knows and…"
"And what Sam?"
"I can feel it. You asked me how I killed those zombies, well I did it with my hands Dean. I practically ripped their heads off with my hands and… and it felt good. I'm a sick freak... I'm what we hunt."
"You don't mean that Sam, that's not you."
"No? Then what is me? What the fuck am I Dean?" Sam stood up and paced back and forth, his palms pressed to his forehead in frustration as pressure built up inside him setting every nerve on edge.
"You're my brother Sam, my family... my everything."
"Then maybe you need to find someone else and get the hell away from me." Sam wasn't sure where it came from, this sudden anger and want and desperation. He pounded his fist into the wall and then again and again in a desperate attempt to drain the chaos and confusion that seemed to be sweeping through him.
The images of killing those creatures with his hands filled his head and his fisted hands drove into brickwork. Sam was too far gone to understand whether he was reliving the memory or trying to escape from it.
Dean hadn't expected it, hadn't seen it coming at all. He knew this uncertainty was messing with Sam's head, hell it was screwing with him as well but the physical pain and anguish that he could see pouring from his little brother in that moment left him reeling.
"Sam. Sammy stop."
Dean wrestled the younger man around before he could damage his hands anymore and pulled him in, ignoring the ache of his own arm and the fear that was now foremost in his thoughts.
"There's something wrong with me... I can't... don't know what to do... can't think or..." Sam looked down away from his brother's eyes and a look of horror marked his features. "Oh God... there's so much blood... I did this... I did this..."
Sam started trembling, his short shallow breaths sounding too loud in the small room.
"They were already dead Sam, the blood's just part of the magic it's..." Dean realised that his brother wasn't really listening so he changed from rational to hopefully soothing. "Shhh s'okay, just breathe Sam. I've got you."
Dean's hands moved across his brother's face and then made quick work of removing Sam's bloodied overshirt before cradling his brother's face again. The look of terror and need in his brother's eyes was breaking his heart.
"Dean please. I need… please…" He wanted so badly just to fold himself up in Dean's arms.
"Sammy it's okay." The older Winchester felt Sam press hard up against him.
Dean willingly opened his lips to his brother's frantic kiss, letting Sam push him, pull him wherever he needed.
"Feel… God Dean … don't know what to do… need you… need you so bad. Please."
"Yeah Sammy, anything, you know I'd do anything for you."
Sam was breathing hard and heavy like he couldn't get enough air and he gripped his brother with desperate hands as he plunged his tongue deep inside Dean's mouth, like he wanted to climb inside.
It was as though Sam couldn't keep his hands still and wasn't sure which part of Dean he needed to touch so he wanted it all at once. Dean could feel his brother's palms slide down his sides and then up and down his back, kneading his skin and pushing into the swell of his ass and down to his thighs over the coarse denim.
Dean fumbled with the cotton of Sam's t-shirt, wrestling with his brother's muscled arms to move where he wanted them and then finally breaking the kiss so he could pull the t-shirt over his head.
Sam's skin was sweat soaked and Dean could see his chest heaving as his brother gasped ragged breaths in and out. They stood like that for seconds, Dean's hand drawn to smooth down Sam's face as he took in the haunted look in the too dark hazel eyes.
It was as though the touch of Dean's fingers on his body sent a current through Sam's veins as he inhaled sharply, twitching away involuntarily and groaning. There was definitely something wrong with him, a dark swirling power that felt like it was crushing him from the inside out and the only thing that could fix him was Dean.
Sam didn't know how he knew it but his body just reacted to the overpowering lust and he surged forward, pushing Dean down on the bed and following him until he had his older brother pinned beneath him.
Finding Dean's mouth, Sam pushed inside again, probing and seeking out his brother's tongue with a keen obsession that was returned with a passion. His head moved from side to side with the need to deepen the kiss impossibly further, uncaring about the scrape of their teeth or the bruising force on their lips because the hurt just made it feel better.
The hurt made it real.
He felt Dean's legs move apart beneath him and he slipped in between, undoing his own jeans and pushing denim and cotton down his hips and thighs, nostrils flaring as their kiss remained unbroken. He could feel his older brother's hands move across his own, sure and steady and then hot and tight around his cock as soon as it was free.
He whimpered then and broke away, sliding down Dean's neck to press his cheek into the juncture of his brother's neck as he gasped and arched up with pleasure moving his hands between them to remove the rest of their clothing.
Dean had felt Sam's fingers desperately work at his jeans until they were down to his knees and his moved his hands between them, helping his brother push away the clothing that separated their bodies. His fingers brushed over sweat damp skin and along Sam's hands until they found the smooth hardness he wanted, loving the way Sam responded.
Dean had never seen Sam like this, never felt his brother so driven and forceful, not at least when it came to sex, and although a part of him told him to worry, it was drowned out in his moan of pleasure as Sam then gripped his cock hard and pumped his hand.
"Fuck Sammy."
Dean's breathless words were captured by Sam's mouth as his younger brother sought him out again, muffled grunts and heavy breathing mingling between their swollen lips.
Sam's body was wired, escalating to a point where his was acting on the primal urge to just take what he needed and he released Dean's cock and gripped his brother's wrists in one fluid motion, pinning Dean's arms above his head.
Dean's cry of pain as his injured arm was moved roughly was met by the grind of Sam's hard shaft against his own until all he could do was whimper for more. He felt Sam move from between his legs to kneel to the side and then suddenly he was rolled onto his stomach and Sam's weight pressed down on him again.
The younger hunter moved between his brother's legs, spreading his knees wide and pushing Dean's thighs apart as far as the jeans pooled around his ankles would allow. Sam draped himself over his brother's back, bucking his hips and thrusting his cock between Deans spread legs, hands pulling his brother back against him.
"Want you Dean, so bad." He sucked hard on Dean's neck, nipping the skin between his teeth before sliding his tongue around and then down his brother's spine.
"Yeah Sammy. Yours… all yours."
Dean's head tilted back and he groaned as Sam licked a wet trail down his spine and between the crack of his ass, moaning as his brother's tongue laved across his puckered hole.
"Sam." It was gasped out on the tail of a soft moan but it was more like a plea for more and Sam gave him what he wanted.
Dean could feel his brother's wet tongue lick at his entrance and then push inside, delving deep in his tight channel and then undulating and licking him from the inside.
Dean couldn't stop the wanton groan that slipped from his mouth as his brother tongue fucked his ass, hands pulling his hips back in a bruising grip onto the soft muscle writhing inside him.
"God… oh yeah Sammy… s'good."
Dean could feel hot pinpricks of pleasure sparking inside him as he pushed back into his brother's mouth as his cock bobbed hard and heavy between his legs. He whimpered at the sudden loss when Sam pulled free, before his back arched as two spit slick fingers filled him up instead.
He could feel Sam's urgency as his fingers slid in and out, quick and rough before he added another and then a fourth, knuckle deep and pumping fast and Dean grunted at the pain pleasure, knowing his brother was at his limits.
"S'okay Sammy, yeah c'mon."
Sam didn't need any more encouragement and his cock was flush against his brother's ass as soon as Dean spoke, the need inside him so great he was unable to even voice his feelings.
As soon as he felt the heat of his brother's body against his swollen shaft, Sam lost any control he might have been clinging to and pushed inside with one thrust. He heard his brother's deep groan but his hips began pumping hard and dirty in a brutal, steady rhythm of pure lust and adrenaline.
Sam bent over Dean's body, one arm draped around his stomach and pulling his brother back onto his cock with every thrust, deeper and harder as his urgency heightened.
The initial pain had lessened to a dull ache and Dean was being swept away in Sam's lust fuelled frenzy, slamming his body back and fucking himself on Sam's cock. The older hunter's shaft was rock hard and curving up against his stomach and he felt the pleasure spiralling and tightening between his legs as he began to fist himself.
"God yeah…oh fuck…" Dean's voice was wrecked as his head arched back and then Sam bit down on the side of his neck, teeth marking and piercing skin and his orgasm washed over him and swept him away as he cried out.
"Sam!"
Sam could taste the copper bittersweet in his mouth as he bit down into his brother's neck, sweat pouring off his skin and slicking the fast paced grind of their bodies. As his brother tensed and shuddered in his climax, Sam couldn't still his movements as he slammed his cock inside his brother's pulsing channel.
There was nothing else he was aware of now, just the raw agony and need to sate his throbbing cock. Sam lost all sense of everything as the electric ache of pleasure pushed up between his thighs and rode him hard as his shaft pumped itself dry inside his brother. The muscles in his body seized as his hips continued to rock for minutes in a blinding release that was almost just as much agony as it was pleasure.
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Awareness seeped back in increments after that, the feel of cooling sweat on Dean's back and his brother's soft voice and gentle hands on his body. Everything hurt and he felt exhausted as cool water touched his lips and he drank greedily, not even aware he was thirsty.
"Sammy? Hey, you back with me?"
"Dean? Mmm… oh God…"
"Shhhh s'okay."
Sam felt Dean's fingers trace lightly across his forehead and he closed his eyes at the touch, opening them again as worry began to unfurl itself in his thoughts.
"Dean m'sorry, I didn't mean to… did I hurt you?" he tried to sit up but was stopped with a firm pressure on his chest.
"Stay there Sam and no you didn't hurt me. Damn well exhausted both of us but no m'good. Whatever this is, this voodoo or spell or whatever, I think you've worn it out for now so rest okay. We're gonna sort this out tomorrow but for now, just rest."
Dean sank back against the headboard as his brother curled up against him without argument, body still trembling slightly but thankfully on the verge of exhausted sleep.
Glancing at the shotgun on the floor and hand gun on the bedside table, Dean got as comfortable as he could without lying down. His body echoed from the feel of Sam inside and out and he sighed with both contentment and guilt.
They had always bordered on the rough and dirty when they sexed each other but that had been out of the park and he knew Sam had been out of control.
The guilt had come from the fact he had enjoyed it much more than he should have when Sam was obviously struggling against his own needs and fears.
He watched his brother's still flushed face and took a deep breath. The bruised knuckles and headaches would hurt like hell but were just part and parcel of their version of normal. Sam's fear of what was inside him, that was something else entirely.
Sam stirred as he shook loose the last hold of sleep and he groaned softly at the ache in his body.
"You alright?"
Sam sat up, ignoring the pull of his muscles and stifling another groan as he turned to face his brother across the room.
"Yeah, think so. I... Dean m'sorry."
The younger man's voice dropped to a near whisper as he looked at his older brother's bruised face and neck and then turned away. Sam knew most of the marks were from their run in with the zombies yesterday but he remembered the way he had held his brother down with no regard for Dean's injured body.
"Sorry for what exactly?"
Sam's hands clutched at the tangled sheets as Dean walked over and sat beside him, placing a hand on his arm.
"For... how I was... I know I hurt you." Sam turned and frowned as he saw the deep purpling mark on the side of his brother's neck and he reached out softly. "I'm so sorry."
Dean laughed, and the sound almost startled Sam in the silence. "In case you didn't notice, I wasn't exactly protesting last night. And yeah it was kinda down and dirty but..." Dean sighed. "Sam you've got nothing to be sorry for okay. Just... are you okay?"
"Last night I felt like there was this adrenaline inside me and it was like... I don't know... but I couldn't stop it. Now it's more of a background noise... I can still feel it but its okay y'know."
Dean nodded even though everything inside him screamed it was so not okay. "C'mon let's go meet with the witchy woman and see what she has to say. We're gonna work it out Sam, just remember I'm not gonna let anything happen to you. Your ass is mine and I'm not letting some zombie freak get their undead hands on it okay."
Sam smiled in spite of himself because Dean just did that to him sometimes. "Yeah I kinda like that plan."
The younger hunter stood and then leaned back down bracing his hands on Dean's thighs as he pressed their mouths together before he straightened to full height.
"What was that for?" Dean quirked his eyebrow as he looked up at Sam's still sleep dazed face and tousled hair.
"Just because okay..."
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They sat on the steps of the church trying to ignore the strengthening wind as it gusted around them in the dull light of the cold morning. Chanté sat on the top step, huddled up so much she looked even tinier than she had the previous day, her black curls fighting to escape from the orange scarf wrapped around her head.
Dean sat alongside her on the step but several feet to the side, elbows resting on his legs and face unreadable as the small Haitian girl spoke with her rich accent. Sam sat several steps below them, shoulder touching his older brother's leg as he seemingly concentrated on the cracks in the worn stairs although Dean knew he was listening to every word she spoke.
"We came here when I was young so my memory of dat time is unclear. I remember we were in danger from another Bokor, a high priest, and we fled in da night wid very little. I do not know who gave us da house we came to but there were others that came to us over da years to seek shelter wid us. My mother found work sewing and my father worked in da fields, I was permitted to attend school."
"So how did it go from brand new life to raising the undead? Bad day on the farm?" Dean heard her words but anger at how she was treating his brother was still clouding his judgement.
"Dean, let her finish."
"I fell in love. I did not tell my father as I knew he would not accept a union outside of our beliefs. When my mother passed last year he found out and forbade me to leave our home unless he was wid me." Chanté looked up into the grey clouds scattered in the sky. "He has now found out I am wid child."
"Oh..." Dean closed his mouth while he tried to put his brain into gear. "So he's punishing everyone for your little indiscretion?"
"He believes dis town has corrupted me and he will wipe it clean."
"So do you know exactly what he's doing, how to stop it?" Dean gestured at the church. "You've made this place safe."
"Da spell is powerful and he knows I cannot work against it for long, I must renew my magic every day to keep da black spell out. My father has summoned Ghede who has raised those long dead ta do his bidding. Ghede gives the bones their last breath back so they can walk amongst da living. I cannot open da barriers or dissolve his magic without help."
"What do you need?"
Sam's soft voice interjected and Dean was angered to see Chanté turn her head away from his brother.
"Sam asked you a question."
"I cannot speak wid it... I cannot anger da spirits of my magic or we will all die." Her eyes looked almost apologetically at the older hunter. "I have done enough damage, I will not bring down another curse."
"Dean I understand, it's okay. Ask her, please."
Dean huffed his annoyance at Sam's request. "Fine! So, what do you need?"
"The altar needs to be destroyed and a piece of the dark magic used in a ritual to appease the Loa and cleanse the spell. "
"The Loa?"
The Loa are the spirits that we serve, they are the conduit of the Gods.
"Where do we find this altar?" Dean's voice was all business.
Chanté hesitated before speaking, "There is a barn on our property that father uses for his prayer and incantations. I am forbidden to enter but it is there that he would call upon Ghede the spirit of death."
Dean nodded at the young woman. "We'll get what you need just keep everyone here till we get back."
"My father will know his magic has been weakened and he will try and stop you." Chanté stared at the older hunter with near black eyes before she rose and walked towards the church entrance, turning to nod in Sam's direction. "When you enter the building it will be affected by the black voodoo, it will feel the power."
"I get that this is hard for you, you don't want this, but if you speak about Sam like that again I'll freakin…" Dean was almost snarling in his anger.
"It's okay Dean. She can see something bad in me, I understand."
"Sam!" Dean turned towards his brother as he stood. "Don't you talk like that and she knows nothing about you."
Sam didn't answer as he lowered his head.
Dean bent down and took Sam's face between his hands. "You're a good person Sammy, you always will be." He closed the distance and moved his mouth across Sam's lips, his heart lifting when his brother pushed back against him in a show of affection before they broke the kiss.
"C'mon we need to be back before dark."
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They took the dusty road out of town, following the directions of Chanté for several miles until they saw an old building looming to the side and Dean pulled off the road in a copse of trees and killed the engine. They had yet to see any sign of zombies or anything else for that matter, including animal life.
The older hunter sighed loudly, fingers still wrapped around the wheel. "Sam maybe you should sit this out, just in case y'know. She said you might be affected somehow and I don't want you hurt."
"You're not walking in there alone, without backup. You know that's not an option. I know you're worried but I'm not gonna sit back and let you put yourself in that kind of danger Dean."
"Sam this isn't your fault but whatever kind of magic this bookoo…"
"Bokor, it's a voodoo priest and yeah, the magic is affecting me but if anything I feel stronger. I can still watch your back okay."
"I mean, to tell you the truth this whole thing creeps me out and I feel better knowing you have my back but you promise me Sam… you promise me that if things start to go south with you, you tell me and we get the hell outta there. Deal?"
Sam nodded, even as he felt the tendrils of unease already beginning to stir inside him. "Deal." Besides it wasn't going to change what they needed to get done just because his head had been aching like a bitch since they'd left the church. It's not like either of them were new to the concept of dealing with pain.
They crept along the tree line which ended abruptly about fifty feet from the barn and were about to break cover when Dean grabbed Sam's wrist and pulled him back down.
"Right hand corner, two o'clock."
Sam squinted at the three figures moving slowly around the building. "Zombie guards huh, impressive… didn't think they could be controlled enough for that."
"Yeah I much prefer the standard we want to eat your brains kinda zombie." Dean rolled his eyes as he glanced sideways at his brother. "How about a little less appreciation and a bit more let's kill the sons of bitches."
Sam huffed. "No I mean whatever magic Chanté's father is using it's nothing we've ever come across. It's strong Dean."
"Yeah I know. Let's just hope like father like daughter or we're gonna end up on the menu."
"It's probably better if we can do this without using the guns, we won't know for sure how many others are around."
"Yeah the last thing we want is to sound the dinner bell. Okay, we get inside, trash the altar and get the stuff Chanté needs and we're outta there."
"Sounds almost too easy."
"Well at some point in our lives Sam, we've gotta catcha break right?"
"Since when are you Mr. Optimistic?"
"Since now, just go with it okay."
"Hey I don't have a problem with easy, no argument here."
They waited for the zombie guards to move around the building in their predictive pattern, glad that the undead seemed incapable of too much randomness in their guard duties at least.
"Okay, go."
Sam watched as Dean ran forward and pushed open the barn door and slid inside, ducking his head back out and giving the all clear. Breathing a sigh of relief, Sam ran across the open space and moved inside, pulling the door closed behind him.
As soon as Sam crossed the threshold and entered the building he felt it like cold fingers down his spine. It was like an icy wind was chilling his body from the inside out and it swept through him and was gone in an instant, leaving him a little breathless and very wired.
"Sam?" Dean's tone was full of worry as the younger hunter just stopped dead in his tracks like he had hit a brick wall and Dean tensed, ready to get his brother the hell out of there.
"Sammy?"
"Yeah, yeah m'okay. Just... I can feel it, something, but I'm okay. I feel good."
"You feel good?" Dean raised his eyebrows at Sam's choice of words, remembering his brother's comment about how he had enjoyed his zombie killing spree. Any thoughts he had of making a fast exit were sidetracked though as Sam walked forward towards the elaborate altar near the far corner of the open spaced interior.
Quickly joining the younger man, Dean refrained from further comment, knowing that this was really their only plan, their only chance to end this and save lives. Sam seemed to have snapped out of whatever he had fallen into before and was busy crushing several pieces of blackened bone under his foot. Dean grabbed an ancient looking chalice and pulled a face as the stench of its contents assaulted his senses before he tipped them out on the dirt floor.
"Oh God, I can just about taste that smell, my eyes are watering." Dean's voice was hushed as he looked around the black clothed surface for the talisman they needed to take back to Chanté. The older Winchester's jaw tensed as he watched Sam's quiet path of destruction that was bordering on overkill.
"Hey I think that's enough Sam." He placed a hand on his brother's arm feeling the heat and tension under his fingers, relieved when Sam nodded and took a step back. "We need to find the Seal of the Left Hand Path okay. It should be a circle with two lines..."
"Like this?" Sam's mouth twitched at the corner as he extracted the metal talisman from a niche in the side of the wooden altar. He felt a small spark run through his fingers like static electricity and he quickly passed the piece of metal to Dean.
"Smart ass." Dean frowned as Sam handed him the talisman like a hot potato. "Problem?"
If Sam was going to reply he changed his mind as a loud guttural shriek came from above them in the exposed rafters. They looked up startled and then ducked in surprise as a large black crow swept down between them narrowly missing Dean's head, wingtip brushing his ear.
"What the fuck?" Dean's hushed cry of indignation was followed by several shouts from outside and he looked at Sam. "I think the covert part of the plan just failed."
"I'll block the doors, finish removing the spell from the charm so we can take it outta here." Sam referred to the instructions they had been given from Chanté as he scanned the barn for something to hold the doors closed.
"Yeah cause speaking the Latin is my favourite part." Dean grumbled as he took out a small vile of holy water and sprinkled it over the charm before beginning the cleansing spell.
Sam threaded the wooden handle of the rake through the metal latches across both doors just as something hit them hard from the outside. "Just hurry Dean."
It seemed to take ages in Sam's mind but it was only minutes before Dean joined him at the doors and lent his strength pushing against the considerable force being exerted from the outside.
"This is the only exit right?" Sam's eyes travelled around the walls, his attention caught by several small uncovered windows near the high ceiling rafters. "That we can reach."
"Looks like. We're gonna just have to take 'em out and then get to the car before reinforcements arrive."
A loud splintering crash jolted Dean back hard enough to hit the floor and Sam scrambled backwards, dragging his older brother to his feet as they moved towards the centre of the barn.
"Dean, I think the reinforcements have already arrived."
The doors to the barn suddenly gave in, splintering and then just falling to pieces as a wave of zombies burst through. The brother's instinctively stood shoulder to shoulder, weapons locked and loaded until they heard the creatures breaking through the walls behind them.
"Fuck, we're gonna have to clear a path and make a break for it Sammy. There's too many and I have no intention of having "zombie food" listed as my cause of death." Dean moved to stand with his back to Sam, covering them from the rear.
"I'm really on board with that plan Dean." Sam started firing headshots as the creatures came within range.
"Sam?"
"Yeah."
"We actually might need to speed that plan up a little."
"What?" Sam turned his head quickly between shots and got a glimpse out the back of the barn where a sea of people were moving across the desolate fields several miles away. "Oh shit."
"Oh yeah it's... fuck!" Dean fired off three rounds in quick succession and then swung the butt of his rifle around defensively as one of the creatures got within striking distance.
Sam felt his brother move away but he couldn't afford to take his eyes off the dozen or so zombies that had now entered the building seeking them out. The sounds of a struggle behind him made his heart race even though he knew Dean was a skilled fighter.
"Dean? Dean answer me."
"M'good."
Relieved beyond description, Sam fired and reloaded until his hands ached and he realised they weren't going to walk away from this at all. They were impossibly outnumbered with the odds about to get far worse. Just the thought of these things hurting, killing his brother, stirred an almost electric energy within his mind and he felt the power shift and slide inside him as it pulsed through his veins like a living thing.
Blowing the heads off the three closest zombies with not a small amount of satisfaction, Sam lowered his weapon and let this feeling flow through him. It was like opening the door to a hurricane and he couldn't breathe in the terrifying onslaught, unaware his whole body was shaking and blood had started to trickle from his nose.
Sam heard his brother yell his name in the midst of the gunshots. Dean's voice seemed like it was coming at him underwater, all distorted warning and echoing panic. He still had to finish this or they would both be victims to death by zombie so the young hunter squeezed his hand into a shaking fist as he concentrated on the advancing threat.
With a final push from his mind, heads splattered violently like exploding watermelons and Sam felt himself falling, the ground coming up fast to meet him as he wondered why everything was red haze and splintered agony.
"Sam!"
Dean shouted as he ran, gun still smoking and poised just right to take down anything else that stood between him and his brother. He slid to his knees, right hand hard and steady on the trigger as his left hand moved softly down Sam's face and neck.
"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon." The older hunter didn't even realise he was speaking out loud as he frantically found the pulse point.
His own heart rate evened out a little as his hand felt the rhythm of a steady pulse dancing underneath his fingertips. Dean just stayed crouched like that for several seconds, his younger brother now half pulled across his lap as he listened to the sounds of anarchy grow closer. His eyes wandered over the ashen face and closed eyes, Sam's features marred by lines of pain and blood.
Dean felt a sickening lurch in the pit of his stomach and it wasn't from the gore splattered barn but from the knowledge of what his brother had somehow just done. He also knew they had to finish this before these creatures killed more people or escaped whatever magic barrier had been constructed around the town.
A part of him just wanted to bundle his younger brother in to the Impala and press the pedal to the metal until they were half way across the country and Sam was safe.
As safe as he could be anyway, in their line of work the term was a relative one.
Sam move sluggishly under his hand and the older hunter's attention changed focus immediately.
"Hey. You with me Sammy?" His hand smoothed along his brother's forehead and he quickly put his gun on the ground within easy reach as Sam began to struggle and breathe hard. Using both hands now, Dean captured Sam's upper body in a gentle but firm embrace, knowing consciousness would initially bring panic.
"Sammy it's okay. You're safe. Sam look at me." Dean tilted his brother's head up until he caught and held the younger boys still dazed stare, trying not to dwell on the blood still dripping from Sam's nose. "You okay?"
"Yeah, think so… I… "
Sam's eyes widened as he caught sight of the bloody mess and mutilated bodies that lay strewn around them and he struggled to sit up, hands clawing at his brother's shirt.
"Are you hurt, there's so much blood…"
"Not mine okay. I'm good Sammy. You saved us."
"Did I…" Sam looked at his brother in fear. "Did I do… this?"
"Yeah." Dean smirked but didn't really pull off the nonchalant air he was trying to show. "Remind me not to piss you off too much. I kinda like my head where it is and not all… everywhere."
Sam's breathing was harsh as he pulled his older brother in close, desperately seeking out the warmth of Dean's lips, his mouth. The feeling that had coursed through his body, that feeling of power that still lingered within him like an echo was amazing and absolutely terrifying.
Dean felt Sam's fear, panic, sense of relief, as though it was his own and all he wanted was to soothe it, make Sam understand it was okay. He pushed back against the feel and taste of Sam, losing himself for a second in the comfort and warmth and knowledge that everything would be okay as long as they were together. Tongues colliding and seeking out the familiar feel of what they shared, Dean lost himself as he always did when Sam needed him.
Sam's groan brought him back to the present and he pushed away, heart racing and body tingling from his brother's touch.
"Hey. Can you stand?"
Sam heard the rough, strained voice of his brother and a surge of adrenaline, arousal, coursed through him. "Yeah. Yeah, think so."
"Good cause we need to start running. Now!"
Gripping Sam's elbow, Dean hauled him to his feet and all but propelled him through the broken bodies and out what was left of the doors. Risking a glance behind them as they ran, Dean then looked ahead to the black metal of safety parked about one hundred yards in front of them and knew it was going to be cut close.
"You got any ammo left Sam?"
"Coupla rounds maybe."
"Then just run as though you've got a legion of zombies breathing down your neck."
"Do I wanna look?"
"Hell no!"
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