A Slave of Him
By: PhoenixJustice
Disclaimer: Supernatural is owned by Eric Kripke. I only own this story and make no profit from this.
Warning: Rated Mature for language, sex, slash, incest, amnesia, mentions of supernatural things, religious references, etc.
Pairings: Dean/Sam, etc.
Setting: Mid-S4, directly after the events of the ep "It's A Terrible Life", some spoilers for "The Monster at the End of the Book" Some lines taken directly from The Monster At The End of the Book.
Summary: They started out with their memories forgotten, then comes along a little ghost, and some angels and memories return. That might have been the end of it. If they hadn't slept together first.
A/N: Kudos to anyone who gets the reference in their Agent names...
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Part Four
Thy Prophecy of the Chuck, pt 2
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Castiel had given him a lead; the book entitled "Supernatural" but also the location of a comic book shop. He wasn't sure just how he was going to explain it to Sam. Maybe he shouldn't even bother; after all, Sam didn't remember anything. He pretty much had a clean slate now, other than that ghost they faced. If he turned Sam away, maybe Sam would take up that normal life that eluded them for their entire lives.
Yeah, and maybe he'd grow wings out of his ass and learn to fly.
Sam was stubborn; they both were. But more than that, he didn't have the right to try and change his brother's mind like that. Perhaps that was why he had been feeling so bad ever since regaining his memories and Sam hadn't-he felt like he was trying to change so many things.
Because for all the bad they had been through, there not only had been good but the most important thing was that they had had each other. They had been through it all and had each other's backs every step of the way.
He felt at his wits end already, only a short time after starting back up Hunting. He had no answers. The only thing he could hope for at this point was to arrive at some kind of conclusion. Something. Anything.
Maybe then this longing for his brother would go away.
: :: :
He turns in his sleep, brows furrowing. Then he grins.
He dreams of Dean screaming like a little girl after being startled by a cat. But all of a sudden Dean's eyes turn into a startling shade of yellow and his body changes into that of an older man. The man seemed familiar to him. His heart pounds in fear.
"Sam, Sam." the man tsks. "Look at you! Look at what you have become! And I saw such potential in you. Ah, it's too bad that brothers can't share dreams. What did yours call me again? "Yellow Eyed Bastard?" That hurts. Make sure to tell him that hell sends its regards." The man grins.
Sam wakes up with a gasp.
He turns and sees Dean sitting at the small table of their motel room, tapping away on the computer and looking intently at whatever was on it. They hadn't talked about what...happened between them since that time in Dean's office, but that was on the backburner of his thoughts for the moment. Right now all he could think of was that demonic face in his dream, with those yellow eyes.
And what did that thing mean? Brother? He didn't have any siblings. And...
"...hell sends its regards?" he mutters.
"Huh?" Dean says, glancing at Sam briefly.
"It's nothing." Sam says. Dean goes back to the laptop and as Sam gets up, he notices what looked like a book sitting close to Dean on the table. With the way he was keeping it close, he supposed it must be important to the other man.
It was just a dream.
Unless he got evidence to the contrary, that's all it was. There was no sense in making Dean worry over nothing. He...wanted to protect him. It felt rather strange, considering just how short a time they had known each other. But to him...protecting Dean, keeping him from harm, seeing him happy-that felt like the best thing of all to him.
He stands, stretching, and holds back a smirk as he notices Dean looking at him. It was kind of cute that he thought he wasn't obvious about it. Once he finishes, he walks over to the table. He looks down but can't tell what the book is.
"What's that?" he asks Dean, pointing to the book.
Dean looks up at him through hard to read eyes.
"A lead."
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"Uh...you sure about this?"
"Really sure. It's not hard, just think of it like...what is that in-person Dungeons and Dragons stuff people do?"
"LARP-ing?"
"Yeah. That. Just think of it like that."
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He straightens out his suit as they walk inside, bell on the door jangling as they enter the comic book shop. It wasn't that big, but it held wall to wall of some of the best comics that would make fanboys wet their pants with glee.
To their left was a long glass counter that held more things, with a stout man standing behind it, originally looking at a small television that sat on it until they come closer, causing him to look up at them. He squints slightly as he looks at them.
"Can I help you?"
"Hope so. Agents Laytner and Maclane," he pauses, both of them briefly showing an FBI badge. "We need to ask you a few questions."
"See anything...odd, the past few days?" asked Sam, glancing around a bit.
"Like?"
"Flickering lights? Odd noises? That sort of thing."
"Not that I can say...why?"
"You sure?" Sam presses. "Nothing behind the walls? Skittering in the walls, like rats?"
Dean wanders off while Sam keeps talking to the bewildered man, ("The FBI is investigating rats now?") flipping through a new Batman comic, a 9th Wonders!, before noticing a small table that held the things he had been looking for, what Castiel had told him to look for.
"You two really FBI guys? Acting like a couple of LARP-ers to me. Asking me if the place is haunted like those two guys in those books. Steve and Dan I think they're called?"
"Sam and Dean?" said Dean, picking up one of the books on the table.
"Yeah! That's it! It was a series of books; didn't sell too well, to tell the truth, but it had-has-a following. They're at that table you're standing at, Mr. Laytner."
Sam walks over and looks over the books as well, looking at them curiously. Dean watches him carefully; if Sam looked inside those pages, he would find out the truth a lot quicker than Dean could tell him. He just knew that the wheels were spinning in his brother's head at the man's statement. But at the same time...
"We'll take the rest of these books," Dean says. "And any other information you know about this stuff."
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"Too bad that's all the guy knew," said Sam, plopping onto one of the motel bed's, book in hand. He hadn't looked at it yet.
"Yeah, well we know the author's name so we can figure out where he lives." Dean clicks on a few things on the computer, eying his brother warily.
Sam lets out a huff, getting back up suddenly. He sets the book down on the table and moves into a chair by Dean. The close approximation of his brother was starting to make him feel warm, so Dean focuses, perhaps too intently, on the computer screen.
"It's pretty crazy," Dean mutters. "So much stuff. There's even "Sam girls" and "Dean girls". ...I'm sure I have more than you."
Sam snorts.
"And-wait, what's a "slash" fan?"
Sam's eyebrows raise. "They're talking about that? That's uh...you know, Dean-slash-Sam. As in...together."
Dean determinedly looks at the screen and not at Sam. That's part of how they got into this twisted mess to begin with... The crazy part was that these fangirls knew their relation to each other and...didn't appear to care all that much about it. Must be nice to be so free of moral obligations, since all they were doing was writing about them two. For him and Sam...they were the ones really living it.
"Got a problem." he says. Well, another problem, but Sam didn't know that.
"Yeah?"
"I can't find anything on this 'Carver Edlund''."
"A pen name?"
"Looks like it."
"If that's the case..." Sam hesitates long enough that Dean looks away from the screen to look at him, and his breath is caught in his throat as Sam smiles.
"Then we'll just have to find someone who knows who he is."
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Getting into the publisher's house of the "Supernatural" series was not too hard; they knew the hard part would be coming up shortly. They meet a woman in her office; she wore a long sweater and had her hair done up in a professional looking bun that was rather severe for her young face.
"So you are, were, the publisher of the Supernatural series?" Sam asks.
"Yes, that's right. It was unfortunate that the sales were not as high as we hoped, but that happens alot in this business." she says, taking her seat back at her desk as they sit on the chairs across from her. "Now my secretary said you two were from Chicago, reporters."
"That's right, ma'am." Sam said, easily moving into the role they had created for themselves. It was something which Dean had expected no less of, before what had occured anyway. To see Sam so strong and able even without his memories backing him up...it was really amazing, actually. "We're also big fans of the series and asked to be able to publish a story on the series and its author."
The implied tone in Sam's voice seemed to register in the lady. She stares a little coldly at them.
"As nice as it is to see fans of the series, I must tell you that we do not give out the information of our authors whereabouts or anything else of the sort; if we did, then every sort of photographer and news media would be beating down there doors. If that's all, then I'm afraid I must ask you to leave."
"But-"
"Now, if you wouldn't mind." She smiles, but her eyes remained just as glacier cold as they had been.
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"Well that was a bust," Sam sighs. "Sure we shouldn't try and press her harder?"
Dean shakes his head. He was actually glad that things didn't work out; he had been trying to figure out a good excuse to stay away from Sam learning more and thankfully he had in-God bless fangirls. "No, looks like a dead end. There's another route I'd like to try.." He looks at his brother in the face, eyes serious.
"Yeah?"
He nods. "Yeah. Listen Sam...there's something you need to know."
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Sam looks at him rather stunned.
"So you're saying that we've actually been traveling around together for awhile now?"
"Years."
"And we both grew up as these...Hunters?"
A nod.
"And you had forgotten about this, which was why you were the way you were when we worked in that office?"
Another nod. "Yup. As you can tell, I'm more of a leather jacket kind of guy than a suit. More suited to Black Sabbath than Yanni, or whatever lame-o group you can think of. I happen to like my heart-attack inducing cheeseburgers over salads, thanks."
Sam looked pensive. "Yeah, I get that and that's great that you know yourself again. But if that's really the case, and it explains the dreams I've been having that have you in it...then why don't I remember this?"
Dean shrugs, looking a bit uncomfortable. He was sure that Sam would eventually bring back up the subject of them two...as in together. He didn't know how he'd handle that again. Especially, and this was what was bothering him the most, because he realized that he didn't feel as bad about the whole incident with Sam as much as he should. Sam was his brother.
He was learning truths about himself, ones he was afraid had been there for a very long time. Something which he couldn't run away from when the face of his Sin was staring him directly in the face.
Thankfully, Sam didn't press the issue he expected him to, instead getting straight back to the matter at hand.
"You said you had something else, another route, you'd like to try."
"I do."
Sam nods. "Hit me with it."
So he does.
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To say he was stunned was an understatement.
"Angels? I thought you were joking before-you're seriously telling me that they exist?"
"I know; didn't believe it at first either, but..." He unconsciously touches the place on his shoulder where Castiel had branded him, after he had "gripped you tight and raised you from perdition." "They're definitely real."
"And we know one of them?"
"Yeah. Well more than one if you want to be technical, but those guys are assholes. Cass is different from them. Now at least. Still looks like a holy tax accountant."
Sam's brows furrow. "A holy tax..." he shakes his head. "Alright, so how do we summon him then? Any special chant or something?"
"Nah. Not for Cass. Maybe other people have to but he likes us...I think. Sometimes it's hard to tell with him."
He closes his eyes. "Castiel...we need your help. We need some answers...so could you, uh...you know?" He waves a hand around.
It was silent.
He opens his eyes and finds Sam looking at him, holding back amusement.
"So, Angel huh?"
"Shut up," Dean says gruffly.
Sam lets out a snort of laughter, apparently unable to help himself. Dean sighs.
"Damn it all, Cass-!"
"Something you need?" Castiel's voice says suddenly.
Dean and Sam whip around to look at the sudden Angel in the room.
Sam's eyes widen.
"Man...you weren't kidding when you said he looked like a tax accountant."
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A/N: This story still lives! I had been in a bit of a rut, but luckily inspiration hit me today-I've worked on three different fics (in three different fandoms no less!) back to back and I couldn't be happier. I have more of an idea what I want to do with this fic. Part of the reason this fic had been stalled was that I was afraid I had wrote myself into a corner, but I found my way out without hitting the wall and the fic is looking all the better for it. Expect to see another chapter sooner than the last time I posted a chapter. Thanks for keeping with this!
I hope you enjoyed this!
Let me know what you thought!
-PhoenixJustice