There we go, hunters … not so many reviews so far … so I guess … the story's crap? Is it? …
guess i'm gonna let Sam die & Dean kill himself in the end … that's depressing … without motivation i can't end this the way it's meant to end …
man …... i'm dying because of lack of BACON down here …...
WARNINGS: please read HABITAT first. - it's the main-story and a giveaway to understand this one. You can also read it as a stand-alone, but you won't get the meaning of it properly. unrelated wincest, mentions of all kind of evil stuff (torture, abuse, rape, etc.), i'll take both of them thru hell and back in this story – though nothing too graphic. rated MA for a good reason ~ for the sensitive ones among us ;)
DISCLAIMER: NOT MINE
previously on bruisedbloodybroken aka THE ROAD SO FAR:
„Well then – get your geek brain goin'. - The werewolf won't wait for us. - I'm not ging to kill someone because YOU THINK he or she's the monster."
Sam swallowed again. „Yeah sure."
„First you eat. - Don't want you to faint on the hunt later."
Sam obeyed. He had to play along. As long as possible. As long as necessary. Besides Dean was right. He didn't want to pass out during a job.
Chapter 3 ~ Don't You Cry No More
Four endless hours later – the night already spread over the land – the Impala pulled onto the parking lot of a small motel. Dean went into the office to book them a room while Sam gathered their bags from the trunk. Together they made their way in silence towards their room furthest from the office.
Dean held the door open to let Sam pass, pushing it right back into the lock right after him. Before the younger male was able to move to the bed, a strong grip held him back, shoving him back at the door and Dean pinned him against it with his body.
The older male put his hands to the left and right beside Sams head and spread his palms on the flat surface. He pressed tighter against Sams body, taking a deep inhale of his scent and exhaled a hot breath over the sensitive skin of the younger once neck.
Sam shifted and swallowed. His hand tightened around the nooses of the bags in his hands, as Dean guided his knee slowly upwards between his legs until he felt the rough denim of Sams jeans rubbing against his own.
„You haven't found anything in the folders did you?" His voice husky and low, fixing Sams gaze with dark emerald-green eyes. Deans look was dangerous and filled with arousal.
Sam shook his head. „No i haven't.", he answered quietly, swallowing down the lump in his throat.
„Guess i've to teach you a lesson." Dean leaned more into him, closer, as he wanted to push him thru the door.
„Dean." Sam tried to keep his voice stable but failed miserably. - There were many things he wanted to do, to say … but not this … not with this man, not right now. Not with the Dean that threatened him like he wasn't worth it. „I'm – I'm not in the mood."
Deans forehead furrowed and his eyes lit up with something the younger man didn't want to name. „You're what?", he asked in disbelieve, the arousal in his eyes backed away to show sheer growing rage.
„Sorry. - I'm just tired." Sam knew it wasn't a good idea to contradict the older hunter.
Dean swallowed, the rage in his look morphed into pure disgust. „Tired? YOU are tired?", he asked, backing away a couple of inches, his voice filled with annoyance. He scuffed and looked down at Sam. „You're such an ungrateful brat." He looked up, his eyes like liquid green fire. „You're saying NO to ME? - After all I've done for you? I'm taking care of you, protecting you? - I saved your sorry ass, Sam." He nearly yelled at him in the end.
Sam lowered his gaze, tears glistening in his eyes.
„What? - What's that? - Are you gonna cry now? - What are you? Five? - No wonder your family's dead. Such a cry-baby like you ..." he scuffed and shook his head. „Maybe i shouldn't have bought you. I should've left you there. - Rotting there, leaving you to these monsters." Another pause. „Obviously it is too much to ask for a little favor of yours, hu?", pure anger riding his voice. Dean buried a hand in the younger mans hair, gripping it tight and yanked his head back against the door. „You're sayning NO to me after all i've gave up for you?"
„Dean. - C'mon. Please. - I'll do it, OK? I'll make it up to -", but he got stopped by a forceful hit of the hunter fist, colliding with his jaw and sending Sam streight to the floor.
First he didn't realize what had hit him. He saw stars, his jaw thumbed … Then he looked up at Dean in disbelieve and hurt – Did he just hit him?
Dean stormed to the bed, yanked the covers off and grabbed one of the pillows, throwing them beside Sam on the floor. „I think you've to learn where you belong – AGAIN. I obviously left you too much freedom."
The taller man laid a hand on his jaw. There'd ba a bruise for sure tomorrow. „Go and get a shower you filthy bastard. - you stink.", Dean added disgusted and shot him a cloyed look.
Sam held back his tears and swallowed a sob, as Dean turned away and threw himself in the middle of the king-size-bed. „And hurry. - Don't use all the warm water."
Play along, boy, just play along. And he did.
He snatched his duffel-bag from the floor and stirred thru it, looking for fresh clothes. He came across the hoody he had gotten from Bobby and Dean right after they had won him on that auction. It didn't feel that soft anymore, the fabric was worn out since it was one of Sams favorite pieces. A slight smile run over his lips but morphed into a sad expression as his grip tightened around the fabric. He finally pulled it out and added a pair of clean sweat-pants to his stack of clothes. Then he did how he had been told. Sam took a fast shower and spent the night on the floor in the furthest corner of the room. Far away from Deans sleeping place.
Sam got woken as the motel-room-door slammed back into the lock. He instantly felt the need to hide. To curl up and disappear, making himself invisible … all the old fears, the forgotten fears dared to come down over him all over again.
„Good Morning, Sam." Dean sounded cheerful and happy this morning. Completely different from last night.
Sam followed him with his look to the table, where the hunter placed a bag. He couldn't do anything else but obey his need to inch back into the corner and tugging the blanket closer to his chest. Sure he could've tried and defeat Dean. But what would it cost? Dean was a better hunter, a faster hunter. Years of experience and training had turned him into a war-machine …
Sam didn't want to cause a physical fight. Not now. Not as long as he didn't know what was going on. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to defend himself … even if it was about his own life. This was still Dean. Somewhere in this body, in this mind. - There had to be the man he had fallen in love with. - somewhere. And despite everything … he still loved him. Because he was sure. Sam was sure that his Dean would never treat him that way.
The hunter pulled a smaller bag out and a paper mug with coffee and glanced at Sam.
His eyes … his look … was there regret? Was there something in his face that asked for forgiveness? Sorrow?
Dean walked over to Sam and squat down, placing the cup and the bag on the floor about a yard in front of the younger man. The next moment there was it again … his features soaked in rage and anger.
Dean held Sams look for a moment, then he returned to the table and sat down in one of the chairs, unpacking his own breakfast.
Sam wanted to refuse … at first … but he couldn't. He had to be strong, he had to keep going, he had to hold on. He had to figure out what was wrong. So he ate and he drunk and got dressed while Dean was in the bathroom. Unnoticed from the older hunter he examined Deans duffel-bag, the dirty clothes … there was nothing that didn't belong to him. Nothing that wasn't Deans – so no object where the spirit could've hold on. Except he had taken it with him in the bathroom.
Before the hunter came back, Sam had long left the motel-room and waited for him in the car.
Three hours later they checked in another motel. Another room. Another silence.
As Sam entered, he didn't believe what he saw. Two king size single beds. Either they had given Dean the wrong room or …. Dean had chosen this for both of them. What probably was the better way at the moment, and somehow Sam felt relieved but still stunned about it.
Dean walked past him and started to unpack his duffel-bag on the bed furthest from the door, laid them out on it and sat down on the other one. He stared at the weapons for a long time … watching them, examining them one after another.
„Do your research." Dean didn't look up, his words came out in a low-spoken order. „I'll hit the road and see what i can find out. - When i come back,", he looked up and at Sam, „i want you to have results."
Sam lowered his gaze and walked slowly to the table. „Yes Sir.", the words came out soaked in sarcasm.
Dean blew out a bugged snort. Then Sam heard fast footfalls and in the other second he found himself on the floor – AGAIN – covering his face and head as the first kick hit his ribcage and a second one in his stomach followed.
„For the record: YOU TREAT ME WITH RESPECT.", Dean took a step back. „You hear me?" He demanded yelling.
Sam wrapped his arms around his stomach, trying to take a deep breath as all the oxygen got blown out of his lungs as another kick followed.
„YOU HEAR ME?" The hunter stepped back again and Sam nodded shakily. „When i come back – i want to have results."
Sam nodded again.
„Where's the respect, bastard?" Dean seemed completely losing control over himself. He yelled, his eyes blown wide in rage again.
„Yes Sir.", Sam answered in a low whisper.
„Can't hear ya.", Dean raised his voice, eyes glowing dangerously.
„Yes Sir.", the younger man answered louder.
After a satisfied snort of the hunter, Sam just heard the motel-door close before darkness took him.
He had woken up short after. It probably just had been a couple of minutes. Sam blinked his eyes open and got aware of his hurting ribs and stomach as he turned on his back. A searing pain shot thru him and he started to cry. He cried shameless, loud, sobs, hitching breaths and the pain. His body was hurting like a bitch … but this wasn't the worst. - His heart hurt a lot more. He wasn't crying because of his ribs, nor of his stomach or jaw … he was crying because it was Dean. Dean who had done it to him. Dean who had promised to protect him, take care of him … Dean who had promised he'd never would lay a hand on him, beat him … and now?
What the hell was just happening? What the hell had he done wrong? How did he deserve this? He thought with HIM everything would change. His life'd get better. That the two of them were happy …
When he had regained control over himself again and the crying had stilled, he called Bobby. Asking if he had found something new, something that'd explain what was going on right now …
„Since you said he's not wearing anything with or on him … - and because of the story about the hunt you both told me …. it's rather a curse or a os nigrum bestiae. Both ain't good.", Bobby said with bitterness.
„Means you think it's probably an os nigrum bestiae?", Sam asked, trying to stay objective. He could tell what was going on in the old mans head, because Bobby didn't seem convinced that it was a curse. And a curse would've been too obvious. It wouldn't have started that late after the hunt and it wouldn't have taken that long to show the first signs of being hexed … „What the hell is an os nigrum bestiae anyway?`"
„Nothing good, Son. - It's … it's a bitch. - But it'd fit perfectly ... after everything that had happened after you guys returned from the hunt ..." Bobby sighed. "The lore says the os nigrum bestiae is the bone of a black dog – a hellhound. It burnt in the fires of hell. Bound to it is the soul of a bad man or woman. Murderers in the first place – that got tortured in hell for eons until their souls are as black as the hellhounds fur." The skillful hunter sighed again. „It says that these are the worst of the worst of human souls that are chosen for this. - BUT … to take effect it has to be IN the body of someone. - The lore also tells, that demons use them to spread chaos, destroy love - damadge the good stuff."
„The cut.", Sam muttered pensively.
„Yeah. - An other thing is … the person who's carrying the thing inside, is gettin' sick. Some die. Some get over it lightly. - Anyways … After the sickness - it slumbers - or at least isn't noticable for the people around … and then it starts. The lore says it's poisoning his vessel until nothing's left of the personality. It's gonna turn the human into a monster as it is himself … - ..."
Sam swallowed. „And … what can i do? - Is there something … Something that tells how to get rid of it?"
„Cut it out.", Bobby answered right away. „But i guess he won't let you ...?"
Sam snorted. "We've separated beds, Bobby. - So no ... i don't think he'll let me come near him. Not with a knife anyway."
"I'd suggest that you come to the salvage. Get your stuff together and get the hell out of there. - You won't be able to handle THIS on your own. Not in your condition. - Nothing about ya skills at this point ... but ... that's a pretty big fish we're talking 'bout here. - Nothin' for a greenhorn, ya know?" Bobby made a pause until he got a silent "yeah" from Sam. "Dean's gonna follow you for sure. - He'll come for you and then we'll figure it out. - We're gonna need a plan. Dean ain't stupid. He's one of the most skillful hunters i know. - And now ... controlled by such a demonic thing ... you're gonna need help."
Sam nodded and took a deep inhale. "You're probably right, Bobby." He exhaled audible and shook his head in disbelieve. "It's gonna take me about a day to get to you." He made a short pause to think. "I'll call you as soon as i'm on my way, OK?"
"OK. - Just get out of the motel. - Go now and don't look back. Otherwise you ain't goin' to leave, Son." Bobby reassured him. "I can imagine that it's hard. - But you gotta do this - for the both of you."
Yeah, he had to do this. He had to do this FOR DEAN. And Bobby was right, he knew it, even when his gut told him otherwise. He had to leave, to save the both of them. He had seen the other victims. Not just the ones who had been tortured by their loved ones ... he knew that they were killing themselves in the end, when their mind cleared and the hate was gone. So he had to do this. He had to leave Dean behind no matter how much it hurt.
Half an hour later he was ready to hit the road. He didn't make up a plan how he would get to Bobby's, but he was sure he would figure something out. Since he didn't like to take things from others he wanted to hitchhike a car or truck - or travel with the bus.
Sam threw a last glance into the room, Deans duffel-bag on one bed, the weapons on the other one, then he closed his eyes for a second, reassuring himself that it was the right thing to do. That Dean would be fine. That Bobby had a solution … Bobby had always a solution.
So he laid his hand on the doorknob and turned it around, sunken and covered in thoughts and the plan he had made up with the older hunter. Sam opened the door into a wide angle and took a step forward, just to bump into a shorter figure right in front of him. Dean. He snapped out of his thoughts and stared in two relentless cold emerald-green eyes.
„Where are we going?" Dean shoved him back into the room and slammed the door shut.
Sam stumbled backwards and let the bag slide from his shoulder. „To Bobbys.", he answered. - There was no need to tell a lie. Dean'd look streight thru it. He wouldn't leave the room with his packed duffel … not at night ... not ever. Not if he hadn't the intentions to leave ...
Sam sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. „Look – I don't want this anymore, OK?" … just try to get away - don't make a big deal of it … getting away before something worse would happen. - Before either of both would get hurt … or die.
„You wanna leave?", Dean asked as he cocked his baretta and set the barrel on Sams chest, right above his heart.
„No. - i mean … yes. I wanna leave. Maybe we should spend some time separated from each other.", Sam spoke completely open. Said what he would've said if this wasn't because of something supernatural happening to them. „Just a few days. - To clear our heads. - To sort out our thoughts ..."
Dean unlocked his gun. „No. - You won't leave. You are mine. YOU belong to me. I PAID for YOU.", he hissed his nose furrowing, pure white anger crossing his features. „You leave when i let you leave. - The only way you'll leave me is when they carry you outside in a coffin, Sam."
Sam swallowed around the lump in his throat and caught the hunters gaze. He couldn't take it anymore. This wasn't him. He had learned to have faith into himself. Faith into what he became - what Dean had formed him into. Sam wasn't afraid anymore, not the way he was before. He had changed - Dean had changed him. Dean had taught him that he was worth something. That his life was worth something. That he was human after all and that he was loved. That Dean loved him. He couldn't just let it go. Couldn't give it up like this. Sam was ready to fight, fight the one thing that was changing the person he trusted the most. The one person in his life he loved and adored.
„Half a year ago … you told me, that no one owns me. Not even you. That no one has the right to beat me like THEY did. - You said you love me. You'll watch out for me … and now?", he just couldn't take it anymore. He had to get thru his Dean - somehow - he just had to, he had to try ... and even if it was wrong or if he failed ... it didn't matter now. Dean was already too far gone to get away from him without a fight. "I love you, Dean. - I love you so much it sometimes hurts. - And now? I don't know what this is what we have right now, but it's not what i want. And I'm sure it's not what you want either. - What happened to the promises you gave me, Dean?"
The older males lips curled up into an evil grin, that took in his whole face. Deans orbs blazed in dark liquid green fire. „Surprise, surprise … i've lied.", he growled and with one fast motion he knocked Sam out with the butt of his gun.
... to be continued
you've still the chance to let me know what you think ... or even leave me some BACON BACON BACON
next chapter: CHAPTER 4 THE LAST FIGHT
