Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. Thus, the following is only a dream…
Warnings: Blah blah, incest, blah blah, wincest, blah blah, homosexuality, blah blah, relationships! And Dean's mouth…both how it looks and what comes out of it.
TWO DAYS LATER (13 DAYS AFTER RAPE):
It had been two days since their discussion in the ruins of Bobby's junkyard and things were better for Sam. Dean gave him the same amount of love and compassion as before but now, in private, Sam was allowed to ask for gentle kisses and close cuddles. It was giving Sam strength, something he'd always felt he was lacking.
Dean's attitude toward his brother hadn't changed; he was still caring, gentle, and a constant presence. However, Sam could see the difference in the small smiles, the casual brushing of hands. Sam could feel it. It was a great feeling. It was because of Dean and his constant affection that Sam was where he was; standing in front of the door to Bobby's panic room. Alone.
Dean was out grabbing groceries for dinner. Sam had wanted to go with him, so much it practically ached, yet he knew it would likely be the only time he could come see John without Dean knowing within five minutes. With a deep breath to steady him, Sam unlocked the door to the panic room. He didn't open it right away, instead listening to his father move around inside the room.
Placing his hand flat against the door, Sam pushed the door open. He stepped in without looking at his father, leaving the door open behind him. John raised a brow at his appearance, racking his eyes from Sam's feet to his face.
"Sam. What are you doin' here, boy? Thought Dean'd get rid of you by now."
Sam remained silent, watching his father- no, John- pace the area in front of the bed. His ankle was attached to the bed post, something that greatly reassured Sam. John titled his head, continuing in his low drawl.
"Well, boy, you gonna speak?"
"I want to know why."
Sam was eternally grateful he hadn't stuttered. John raised a brow.
"I'd think you'd know by now. How long 'ave I been telling you?"
"Twelve years."
John startled, apparently shocked Sam would know immediately. Then he grinned, not a pleasant one but a mocking one.
"Then you should know why."
"Because I killed mom…"
John nodded.
"Because I wasn't as good as Dean…"
Another nod.
"Because I wasn't obedient enough, I got Dean hurt, I couldn't focus, my shooting was off, I didn't sharpen the knives, I stole money, I lied, I was fat and uncoordinated…"
John smiled, sitting on the edge of his bed comfortably. Sam wasn't watching him anymore, instead focusing on the ground where John's shoes were.
"It was because I loved Dean more than I should have…"
Sam knew he should stop, he could feel John's sudden tension from across the room. Said tension was steadily growing into anger, something the teen knew was dangerous.
"I love him more than I love myself, more than I love mom."
"You shut your mouth, boy or so help me I'll come over there and shut it for you!"
Sam continued, lifting his eyes slightly to watch the frown pull at John's lips and the anger create lines around his eyes.
"Dean means more to me than anything; hunting or reading or even being alive. And you hate that. Why do you hate that?"
John stood quickly, the bed creaking loudly in protest. He took four great strides forward, within a foot of Sam. His ankle jerked as the chain stretched taunt between his leg and the bed frame. Still, John managed to reach out with a hand and grab a fistful of Sam's shirt, dragging him forward.
"You're sick, Sam. You are worse than the monsters we hunt. Your brother is pure, he's good! And you wanna fuck it up, fuck him!"
John latched onto his shoulders with his strong hands, shaking him roughly. Sam winced, feeling his neck crack sharply at the whiplash movement. Sam grasped his father's forearms, not to escape but simply to gain some stability.
"You hate it because you loved mom like that and you miss her more than you love us. You'd have traded Dean and me for her any day of the week."
A fist nailed him in the nose, causing warm liquid to quickly create a river flowing over his lip, down his chin, and onto his shirt. John pulled him closer, the man's eyes burning holes in Sam's.
"I love Dean just as much as I love your mother. He's her greatest gift! But you…your nothin' but the demon that took her away from me!"
John's fist reared back to hit him again but was halted by a hand wrapping around his wrist. Bobby stood at John's shoulder, jaw clenched tight.
"John, put the boy down."
The hand tightened at the end of the sentence. John reluctantly released Sam's shoulder, lowering his fist and glaring daggers at Sam. Gentle hands grasped the teen's shoulders and led him quickly from the room. Bobby closed the door to the panic room as Jim lead Sam up the stairs and into the living room to rest on the couch.
"Breathe, child. You're alright."
Bobby walked into the room, pushing a towel filled with ice onto Sam's nose gingerly.
"I called Dean. He's headed this way now."
Sam merely nodded, holding the icepack to his nose and staring intently at the floor. Jim rubbed smooth circles onto his bicep.
"Samuel, are you ready to tell us what's been going on?"
A sudden shiver passed through his body before he blinked slowly, like he was coming out of a dream.
"I need Dean."
"He'll be here soon, Sam, promise."
"'K…want De'."
"Soon."
Sam swayed slightly where he sat and Bobby moved to help Jim lay the boy flat on the couch. The teen's eyes fluttered slowly, his breathing evening out. As his eyes finally began to close, Dean's name passed through his lips once more. The two men shared a look. Dean better hurry the hell up.
10 MINUTES LATER:
Jim sat with Sam in the living room, holding the ice pack to his nose. Bobby had gone to fetch the boy a clean shirt. Just as he reappeared at the top of the stairs, the door slammed open and Dean came rushing through the door. He tossed Bobby the Impala's keys in exchange for the shirt.
"Groceries are in the trunk. Sam?"
"Livin' room."
Dean moved through the house quickly, taking Jim's place with barley a glance to the Pastor. Said Pastor smiled in relief at the brother's arrival and stood, moving out of the room to give the two space. The elder brother lowered a hand into Sam's hair, gently twisting the locks around his fingers, something he had wished to do for so long now. It's was one of Dean's favorite privileges. He felt it was to intimate for just brothers and had believed he'd never be allowed. The closest he'd come was running his fingers through Sam's hair, a soothing motion for the both of them that none the less left much to be desired on his part.
Dean sighed, using his free hand to wipe the blood off Sam's chin. Knowing it had to get it over with sooner or later, Dean gently roused Sam with a tap to the cheek.
"Come on, Sammy. Wakey wakey, little brother."
"De'?"
"Yeah, it's me. Work with me here. I gotta get this shirt off."
Together, the two managed to get Sam sitting up and into the clean shirt. Dean settled onto the couch next to Sam, spinning to lean against the armrest and stretch his legs. Sam crawled into his lap, settling comfortably between his legs. Dean took the ice pack from Sam's hand, pulling it away. He smoothly felt along Sam's nose, checking for breaks before replacing the ice pack.
"You're lucky. It'll bruise but nothing's broken. You may even get a black eye outta it."
Sam mumbled something intelligible. Dean let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, wrapping his arms around his brother and holding him close.
"What in the world possessed you to go see John?"
"I just…I wanted to see if maybe, maybe he'd…"
"Changed?"
Sam nodded lightly, twisting his fingers in Dean's shirt.
"I don't know why I thought he would. It's been so long…at some point it would make sense I'd stop thinking it was gonna stop."
Dean said nothing, simply ran his palms over Sam's back and arms, soothing him as much as he could. He had a feeling this conversation was going to piss him off and take a lot out of Sam. Maybe he'd finally get some answers.
"How long's it been Sammy?"
A beat of silence, followed by a quite admission that almost stopped Dean's heart.
"Twelve years."
"Christ Sammy…you were only 5!"
Sam stopped twisting his shirt, using his fingertips to smooth out the wrinkles. His fingertips moved to the collar of Dean's shirt. Sam opened his mouth to speak but instead moved his hands to rest on Dean's shoulders, fingertips continuing to smooth nonexistent wrinkles.
"It wasn't always as b-bad as you…saw. That was the f-first time. Only time…"
Dean muttered a quick thanks to God into Sam's hair, peppering the brunette locks with kisses. Sam's shoulders were tense, so Dean smoothed a palm over them slowly. It reduced the tension only slightly but Dean was glad of even the smallest amount.
"It didn't happen very often in the beginning. Barley once every c-couple of months. It got worse when I started training…worse when I started going on hunts. I…disappointed him. Got you hurt."
Dean pulled Sam closer to him, tangling their legs together on the couch. Sam smiled softly against his neck.
"You made it better…by being there. It was…worth it. Because I got to be near you."
"I'm sorry Sammy. 'M so sorry."
The elder brother ducked his head, nuzzling past long, brown locks to rest his cheek against Sam's neck and pepper his clothed shoulder with apologetic kisses. He could feel tears welling in his eyes and for once he wasn't embarrassed; this was something he wouldn't be ashamed to cry for. Sam deserved his tears, Sam deserved so much more than Dean felt he could give. Sam, who in his endless caring, was now carding his fingers through Dean's short hair in an attempt to soothe his brother.
"Sam?"
"Hm?"
"I love you."
Dean looked up just in time to catch a soft, beautiful, content smile settle on Sam's lips.
"I love you too, Dean."
END OF CHAPTER:
You have no idea how close I was to just ending it at "I love you too, Dean" and then leaving you all to wonder what the fuck happened to John and did Dean and Sam ever get it on. You have. No. Idea. Alas, I couldn't leave it so open ended, so another chapter will be coming soon. I'm sorry that the chapters are getting shorter. Almost done with this story you know…maybe I'll do a series on one-shots? Eh, don't get excited. I'm running out of steam xD
Review please?
Eris-R-Renee
