Bond
By
Ava Brett
Chapter Three
Disclaimer – None of the below characters belong to me in any fashion. I am merely using them for my personal entertainment.
Author Note – Here's chapter three! The first one from Dean's side though certainly not the last one! Please enjoy
It was the banging on his door which pulled Dean Winchester out of his deep sleep. He yawned widely, lifting his head groggily from his pillow before he forced himself into a seated position. His body felt heavy as though it had been turned to stone sometime during the night. All he would need to do is lay his head back down and he would be fast asleep before his body even finished making the journey.
Dean couldn't remember the last time he had felt this tired. He yawned again, reaching his hand up and running it through his hair, the movement slow and awkward as his body actively tried to resist his brain commands, making its desire for further slumber extremely clear.
He glanced to the bedside, his eyes widening when he saw that it was already ten in the morning. Dean had set his alarm for seven but he must have slept through it. His eyes moved towards the door as the sound of someone banging their fist against the old wood started up again.
Dean winced at the pain which exploded though his head at the sound. He had known last night that he had overdone it with the mind to mind talking but the man had been so distressed that Dean couldn't bring himself to abandon him to his despair. It had seemed important to comfort the man though he had no idea why. He didn't even know who the guy was or what he looked liked. For all Dean knew he could have been seventy years old.
"What?" he yelled trying to ignore the memories flooding his mind. He needed to find out who that guy was. Dean liked to think he had the whole mind thing under control, especially as he had to do it all himself without any help or training from anyone. No one suspected him, not even Sam who was with him twenty four seven.
There had been times when Dean had nearly told his brother, the need to confide in someone overwhelming Dean sometimes. Sam would understand he was sure of it. Sam had been through his own strange mind stuff with all those visions he had not to mention the telekinesis side of thing. Sam had been freaked out by that one. He had wanted to comfort him, to assure him that there was nothing wrong with it and that Dean could do it as well but he had remained quiet. Sam was relying on Dean to keep him steady and focused, letting him know that Dean suffered from the same curse would do nothing but freak the kid out further and so Dean had remained silent. Now too much time had passed and Dean knew that Sam wouldn't forgive him for hiding it for so long.
That man though, his control had been scarily impressive. Dean had been torn between surprise, relief and fear. He wanted to throw his belonging in his duffle bag, shoulder it, grabbing Sam on the way and shoving them in the impala before forcing Bobby in the car at gun point and driving far away where he would never find him and yet the thought of the man not speaking to him again made Dean feel physically sick.
It was a ridiculous feeling, he had survived over thirty years with his curse, he had learnt to cope and that strength wasn't about to crash and burn around him just because he had met someone who could understand him and who could perhaps help him.
He was a complete and utter idiot. He should never have established a connection with the man. He should have ignored him and gone to sleep instead. If he had then he wouldn't be experiencing this strange empty feeling inside of him.
"Dean are you ok?" Dean blinked. Sam's voice was full of concern, which was never a good thing especially not first thing in the morning before he had even had his first coffee.
He pushed himself to his feet, steadying himself before he shuffled to the door, the act of lifting his feet beyond him at that moment in time. He cast a longing look at his bed before opening the door, leaning against it as he tilted his head back so he could look into his younger brother's hazel eyes.
It killed Dean that he was the small one of the family. He was Six foot one for God sake, he towered over most men and yet he was towered over by his six foot four brother. God clearly had a strange sense of humour. He pushed the thought away as one to bitch about another day and spoke.
"Hey Sammy, I'm fine" he frowned as his ended the sentence with another yawn. This was beginning to get annoying now. Sam's face fell into a matching frown.
"What time did you get to sleep last night?" he demanded suspiciously. "Did you forget we have a job to do today?" Dean shook his head.
"I'm offended Sammy. I am and always will be a professional. I just kept dreaming that's all" he responded casually praying his face didn't redden as he remember the feel of the man's hand moving slowly up his leg in what had been sweet torture.
"Well then Mr Professional, I suggest you get showered and dressed so we can head out and do this job. I'd like to be back here before night falls"
"Coffee Sammy please" Dean said flashing his brother his best smile before shutting the door in his face. He leaned against it for a moment before making his way over to his duffle bag and grabbing the stuff he would need for a shower. When he reopened the door the corridor was empty making him breathe a sigh of relief.
He locked the door to the bathroom behind him, walking up to the mirror and looking at his face in the mirror, noting the tired look on his face. Why the hell couldn't he wake up? Dean was used to sleeping as little as two hours a night and he had never felt like this before.
A flood of adrenaline hit his system as his stomach rolled, he held one hand to it, the other tightening on the cool sink as his wide eyes met his reflections. What if it was the man from last night? Dean was well aware of what the mind could do. What if this tiredness was a result of something the man had done to him? What if he was still doing it?
Dean forced himself to breath turning on the shower, stripping off and stepping under the hot water. Regardless of what was happening to him he still had a job to do. Civilians who were expecting him to help. He couldn't let them down. This problem would have to be shelved until he had time to sit down and figure out what was happening.
Dean dressed quickly in a comfortable pair of blue jeans, pulling his favourite plaid shirt over his black t-shirt. He hurried down the stairs flashing Sam a rare apologetic look as the younger man pointedly looked at his watch before handing Dean a mug of coffee. Dean thanked him as he took it, catching the keys to the impala with his other hand.
He focused on his coffee downing half of it in one go when the voice went off in his head. A shiver went through his as he lowered the cup from his mouth. God help him but he already loved the sound of that voice.
"You aren't thinking of trying to escape me are you?" Dean focused on his drink aware of Sam watching him with increasing annoyance.
"Please" he mentally scoffed ignoring the shard of pain which lodged themselves in his head at the effort this was taking on him "I told you before that I had a job to do" Dean jerked back when he felt cool fingers trail down his neck. Jesus Christ how did the other man do that?
"Dean are you ok?" Sam demanded. Dean nodded placing his empty coffee cup on the side. He looked at the keys to the impala in his hand before he threw them back to Sam who caught them automatically with a look of surprise on his face as his eyes met Dean's.
"I'm still tired Sam. It be best if you drove" he said. Sam's concerned look came back to his face, his hand on Dean's forehead before the older man could react. Dean froze when he heard the growl in his head.
"Don't you dare do anything to him" he warned him, his voice deathly serious "He's my brother"
"You don't feel hot" Sam said unaware of the danger that Dean was sure he was in. He stepped back so Sam wasn't touching him aware of the man settling back down.
"I'm fine Sam, just tired now stop worrying and lets go, you're the one who wants to be back before it gets dark" Sam rolled his eyes, turning and leading the way out of the front door. Dean lightly ran down the porch steps aware of the man's presence still in his mind, somehow Dean had the impression that he wasn't going anywhere.
"Where is this job taking you?" the man asked, a tone to his voice which had Dean responding before he could help himself.
"Just two towns over" He pulled a face in annoyance before he climbed into the passenger seat of his baby and strapped himself in. He reached for the music stopping when Sam slapped his hand away with a grin.
"Don't forget Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole" Sam said, his grin widening as he pushed a pair of sunglasses up his nose. For a moment Dean considered slapping his brother but pushed the thought away. That wouldn't have been enough. He groaned when Sam turned the radio on, turning it to some poppy radio station. Dean silently apologised to his baby for putting her through the torture of having bad music pumping out of her speakers.
"Do you play chess?" The man asked him. Dean blinked at the random question turning his thoughts inwards.
"Do I what?" he asked stupidly.
"Do you play chess" the man asked slowly, Amusement and affection in his voice, the sound of the combination warming Dean inside.
"Do I look like the type of man to play chess?" he answered back unable to hold his laughter back. He turned his face towards the window so Sam wouldn't see the large smile which came to his face.
"I see so you can't play then" the man remarked mildly. Dean felt himself bristle up at the comment.
"I can play chess" he snapped "And I'm pretty damn good at it. I bet I could beat you easily enough" he boasted.
"I accept your bet" the man answered smoothly with more then a tinge of smugness to his voice "Tonight we shall play against each other"
"Tonight?" Dean repeated "Wait are you asking me out or something?" he demanded in surprise.
"Yes" came the simple reply.
"No way" Dean said "I'm not in the habit of going out with random strangers who appear randomly in my head"
"You're afraid to meet me in person?" Dean bit down hard on his lip.
"Hardly" he said. "But I can occasionally be sensible"
"Tell me your name" the man suddenly demanded. Dean gritted his teeth at the command in the other man's voice.
"I'm not in the habit of giving out my name either" he stated flatly. He felt a brush of air against the back of his neck as though someone had sighed against the skin; He swung round in his chair looking at the empty backseat in confusion. He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck.
"Why must you fight me over everything? I can feel your headache. I know you aren't used to having long conversations this way and the attempt is hurting you. You know I am stronger. I could just take the name from your head."
"Or perhaps you could just ask me Dick" Dean retorted angrily. He rubbed at his forehead waving away Sam's ever growing concern from next to him.
"I did ask" came the response.
"No you commanded, you didn't ask me. There's a difference I suggest you learn it" the man went silent and Dean waited, shifting uncomfortable in his seat.
"I am sorry" the man eventually said "I'm used to getting answers to my questions instantly. People don't usually fight me"
"Yeah well perhaps they should. Just because you have power it doesn't mean you should use it. Yeah you're stronger then me in this way but it doesn't make you better then me or mean that you get to control me like I'm one of your little minions. I find some manners go a long way with people. You should try it once and see what happens."
"You're reprimanding me" the man replied, a tone to his voice which placed Dean on edge reminding him again that he had no idea what or who he was dealing with.
"So what if I am, what are you going to do about it? Try and make me answer me? Try and dig the answers out of my brain?"
"No" the man responded "I would not force you to tell me but I could if I wished to"
"Dude you're so arrogant you make me sound modest" Dean complained "You're making my head hurt" He sighed, closing his eyes and resting his head against the back of his chair at the feel of those cool fingers brushing against his temples. Somehow the touch was making the pain threatening to split his head open ease off.
"Please tell me your name?"The man asked him, his voice polite and calming. Dean smirked. That was more like it.
"I'm Dean" he answered "Dean Winchester"
Author Note – Abrupt ending to the chapter I know but it needs to be! We're heading back over the Castiel! Hope you're enjoying this as much as I'm enjoying writing it!
Chapter Four still needs to be written but I seem pretty inspired at the moment so hopefully it will continue.
