A/N:
Wow, that was damn hard to write – Jesus fucking Christ …
So ... when this is done ... I'll move my account to AO3 (archiveOfourOWN dot ORG).
I won't keep posting my stories over here. ... I'm using the same Alias there as I do here, so you guys might as well will be able to find me if you're looking for me.
Chapter 33 ~ The Amulet
Two weeks passed …
… and Sam was doing remarkably better.
Sam's gained weight again. Not that he looked the way he did before Asmodeus had happened, but he was getting there.
He was doing so good, that he was making innuendos about leaving.
Much to Dean's disapproval.
So, he was turning the tides, in a way only a sneaky, devious bastard would do.
Nope, Dean Winchester wasn't mean towards Sam. Neither was he locking him into his room.
Dean Winchester did it with words, hidden messages, playing Sam like a virtuoso, pinching the sites of his guitar on his most important gig.
And all too soon, Sam wouldn't talk about leaving anymore. No hints of him even thinking about abandoning the bunker, to go on a reckless hunt after a demon in possession of the angel's tablet.
~*Apple Pie & Bacon*~
The A-Team was having dinner in the map-room and library.
All the hunters, currently at the bunker, had gathered for soup and bread.
The set-up on the map-room's table was the same as always those days.
John at the end, Ellen and Jo flanking him, shortly followed by Castiel, Garth, Charlie and Bobby.
Dean and Sam had their seats at the far end of the table.
Sam and Garth were discussing on what was the best way to not get possessed by a ghost and how to proceed if it happened though, while Dean complained about the soup and how it was so not tasty at all despite that they had full storages.
"You'll live.", Sam stated bluntly and handed Dean one of his slices of bread.
"Dude. – That's no food for warriors.", he grumbled around a mushy piece of carrot. "Warriors need meat."
Sam grinned amused. "It's the first time we have soup since – EVER." He lifted the bowl to his lips and drank the warm liquid. "I'm sure you'll be fine."
Dean carried on with complaining, making a fuzz about all the vegetables and lack of meat.
Sam glared at him. – Utterly annoyed. – Until he rose without a further word and vanished, only to come back a couple of minutes later, fisting a small sachet in his hand.
Sam sat back down and laid it on the table in front of Dean.
Whatever it was, it was small. Too small. if Dean wouldn't know better, he'd say it was a hex bag.
Dean cast him a curious and surprised look. "Doesn't look like meat to me …", he murmured. "You wanna put a spell on me, Sammy?" He grinned cockily at him and wiggled his eyebrow.
He probably wanted to look seductive, Sam figured, but it didn't even look funny.
"Shut up. Maybe that's gonna lighten your mood." Sam snapped at him, but smiled warmly when he did so.
John slammed his hand over his mouth, an utterly shocked expression on his face. "Oh shit.", he grumbled. "I totally forgot …"
Ellen elbowed him in the ribs and hissed something unintelligible at him.
Yeah, in all this post-apocalyptic mess it wasn't easy to keep on track on birthdays. Nor Christmases. Or any other special day, since every day you didn't end up chewed on was a special one.
Dean reached for the small sachet. "How'd you know?"
Sam shrugged. "John mentioned it a couple of days ago – your birthday-date." He shared a look with Bobby, who grinned from ear to ear at his son.
"C'mon. Open up. – I wanna see what it is!", Charlie chirped from across the table, patting her hands.
Dean thought for a moment. "What if it's somethin' naughty? – I wouldn't want to embarrass Sam in front of all of you."
Sam scowled at him. "Don't ruin the mood, Jerk."
Dean opened the sachet and fished with his fingers for its content. "'m not, Bitch."
The first thing to see was a leather-cord, and attached to it, was a brass-amulet in form of a horned goddess's head.
"It's for protection.", Sam explained quietly.
"Wow …" Dean wasn't exactly speechless – except for that he was. He wasn't sure what he had expected, but – a necklace was none of it. "That's .. .cool, Sam."
The surprise drained away from his face, and got replaces by a fond smile. "Really awesome. Thanks."
Sam landed a soft blow to Dean's shoulder. "Now shut up and eat your soup."
Dean punched back – not as soft as Sam had.
Dean slipped the necklace over his head and adjusted the amulet so, that the goddess was facing away from him.
One of his hands disappeared under the table after a while, as he carried on eating his soup without uttering a further word.
Under the table – out of plain sight – his hand rested on Sam's thigh, drawing circles into the fabric with his thumb.
Sam did not freeze at the physical contact. Nor did he draw away.
Neither of them looked at each other either.
Ellen came around with the pot and refilled their bowls.
Sam cupped the bowl in his hands and lifted it once more, to drink from the still hot soup, when Garth was about to tell how he's slaughtered a nest of rogue vamps in an old mine, when he felt it …
… the distant feel of a faint sting behind his eyes. The sensation of moving the bowl through water instead of air.
Sam froze for a moment, his muscles growing taut.
Dean felt the change in an instant, felt Sam's muscles tighten under his palm and he stilled, casting his look towards his partner.
"Sammy?", he asked, in the flash of a moment his relaxed features turned into high alert and he was tensing up from tip to toe.
Then – all of a sudden – Sam sprung to his feet, the chair charred with an angry sound over the tiles and toppled over. He gripped his head, blackness bleeding into his eyes, and before anyone at the table had a chance to realize what was going on, Sam went down, taking the bowl with him, as he reached out for the table for leverage.
Dean jumped up from his chair and was at Sam's side in light-speed.
Chairs were shoved back; people were getting to their feet.
Dean instantly cupped Sam's head, fingers groping along his scalp to check if he had hit his head – again.
"What's happening?", Garth was there in the blink of a second too, kneeling down.
"A Vision.", Dean murmured, as he eased Sam's head back on the tiles and shrugged off his flannel. He balled it into a make-shift pillow, shoved it under Sam's head and reached for his hand.
"It's okay." He squeezed his hand gently and intertwined their fingers, then brought it up to Sam's stomach, where he let them rest. "I've got you."
~*Apple Pie & Bacon*~
Black Water.
… is the first thing he sees – feels.
Dozens of Leviathans closing in on the bunker from all directions.
Ugly face-less grimaces with huge mouths and pointed fangs.
A mayhem of black goo and red blood. Covering tiles, walls and iron.
Dead hunters littering the bunker's floors. All the people Sam knows by now by name.
He can feel his heart race, thumping violently against his insides and up into his throat.
A shift, everything turns upside down, and he's driving a car.
Sam casts his look at the passenger's side, and there's the tablet, covered in a leather-cloth.
He feels waves of power radiate from himself. Sweat on his forehead cools his burning skin.
This vision is different.
Not like the one he's had before about the Leviathans raiding the Roadhouse.
He doesn't have control over anything. He's damned to watch.
Then it's raining. Heavy drops of water pelt against the windshield, and before he knows it, the car's sliding, spinning …
… and everything goes dark. And it feels like he drowns – in black water.
~*Apple Pie & Bacon*~
Sam's eyes flew open and he gasped.
A wheezing breath, another gasp, desperate to draw in oxygen into his starved lungs.
He noticed a hand holding his, the very moment he came back from his vision. Sam's eyes turned hazel, glossy with tears.
"Breathe." Dean's voice saturated his foggy mind slowly. "Slow deep breaths, Sam." He sounded so calm. Reassuring.
Everything Sam was not right now. He drew in another wheezing breath through his mouth, grip tightening on Dean's hand.
Sam blinked, panted and blinked some more, trying to clear his mind, his vision.
"Fuck.", he breathed. "Shit."
He squeezed his eyes shut, when the ache in his head thumped violently against his temples and forehead.
"Up." Sam sent his arms flying, in an attempt to at least turn to his side and so not to puke all over himself as he felt rising bile burn in his throat. "Up."
He turned over and managed to get on all fours, before he started to retch and heave.
Dean kept a hand on Sam's back, the other one pressed against his forehead. "Easy, Sammy. – Easy."
"Leviathans.", Sam gasped, heaved. "They're comin'. Here. They know where we are. Where the tablet is."
"That's bad news …", Garth sat back on his haunches. "I guess."
Dean shushed him. Then looked up, addressed first his father then the others with a determined look.
"Okay, listen up!", he hollered and his look swept towards the gathered hunters in the walkthrough towards the library. "Everyone! Gather as much water as you can! Bottles, pots, bathtubs! I don't care!"
No one moved. Everyone kept staring.
"Move! Now!", he ordered.
The crowd in the doorway started to dissolve, hurrying away in all directions possible.
Then he addressed Castiel. "When they're done, go shut the bunker's central water-supply down. – They won't get in here."
Castiel gave him a curt nod.
"Charlie." Dean caught her look over the distance. "Get the message out: The bunker's down. Code Black. – We're no sanctuary anymore. Everyone needs to stay away."
He looked over at Garth, knowing that he was the fastest among them, equipped with all the advantages a werewolf owned, and a human couldn't possess. "Take a sweep outside in a five-hundred-yard radius. – Be back no later than in an hour. We're going to put the bunker on lock-down. Take the way through the garage."
"Dad?", he looked at his father. John looked back at him. "Relax. We've got this."
Bobby squat down beside Dean and his son. "Sam. – You okay?"
Sam sat back on his haunches and gave a jerky nod.
"Sam look at me.", Dean's voice had shifted from I'm-your-fucking-leader to come-and-cuddle-with-me. He caught Sam's look and their gazes locked, one hand on Sam's cheek.
"What've you seen?", he asked softly. "You know when?"
Sam shook his head. Then nodded. "I don't know. – But … I think they're close. – It felt like they were close." He paused and took a breath. "First, they were closing in on the bunker. – It was day. And … they came through the pipes. There was … black goo and blood everywhere. Then I'm driving a car to – I don't know where to – but I've the tablet. And I've … I think I've been on demon-blood. I could feel it …"
"How many?", Bobby asked.
"A lot. – A few dozens of them? Maybe?", Sam shrugged.
"We should run. Maybe there's enough time to get a couple of miles between us and the bunker .", Jo suggested.
"We won't stand a chance out there.", John stated.
"Dad's right. – We won't. – And leaving the wounded ones behind is out of question." Dean shifted. "We'll hole up in here. – The bunker's a fortress, and without us using the pipes they won't get in here. And we'll figure something out on how to gank them. We still have the tablet. - Charlie's nearly done with the decoding."
Sam turned out of Dean's touch and grasped his hand, willing himself to move his feet and get them out from under himself. Dean helped him stand and steadied him.
"I'll go and work on translating the damn thing.", Bobby grumbled and patted Sam's back. "You go and lay down, son. – You look like crap.", despite the words he chose, they were meant to comfort.
"I won't take a nap, while they're out there, dad." Sam gave his father one of his no-way-looks.
"Bobby's right. – We're safe for now. And you need to sleep it off. – Or at least rest. We've got this." Dean gave Sam a stern but concerned look, making clear, that he wouldn't take no for an answer.
~*Apple Pie & Bacon*~
Dean accompanied Sam to his room.
All the way there, Dean stayed close. So close, their biceps were brushing against each other's while they walked.
There was a weird – practically palpable – sort of tension between the both of them.
Sam opened his room's door and cracked it open, then stilled for a moment, before he opened it as wide as it went.
He stepped inside.
Dean stopped in the doorway. Usually he'd walk in with him, no questions asked. But … it felt different from the usual let's-hang-out-invitation.
When Sam noticed, that he didn't enter with him, he didn't walk any further either and turned to face him.
"Don't you wanna come?", he asked quietly, one eye squinting at his partner.
There was hope and fear (that he may was understanding something wrong) in those giant hazel-green circles, an unasked invitation, when he tilted his head to the side.
Dean felt like a nervous teen, about to get laid for the very first time – with his heart throb.
"Sure.", Dean played it cool though. Because he is awesome like that.
He stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
Dean looked at Sam. Really looked.
"You sure?", he asked again, when he approached him slowly– because he needed assurance – that Sam was asking him the same what he was asking Sam. And not to interpret something wrong into the way Sam was looking at him.
Sam drew in a deep breath. "I think."
Dean closed the last inches parting them, slowly reaching out for Sam's face, to cup his cheek. Sam leaned into the touch as soon as Dean's calloused palm made contact with his skin, and he blew out a long breath.
Sam felt his head being tipped down and then were soft cushions against his lips. Tentative and hesitating, until Sam joined into the kiss and his hands came up to rest on Dean's sides.
Dean's hand traveled to the nape of his neck, and he tugged him further down with gentle force, his free hand coming up against Sam's lower back.
"I thought about doing that for quite some time now.", Dean breathed against Sam's damp lips.
"Me too …", Sam answered and kissed him again, slow and sweet.
When they parted, both were a little breathless.
Dean bit his lower lip, looking Sam in the eyes, when he reached for his hand. There was a silent question in his emerald-green eyes.
Sam answered without words, and let himself be guided to the bed.
Dean toed off his boots on their way and made Sam sit down as soon as they reached it. Without saying anything, Dean squatted down and undid the laces of Sam's boots, then pulled them off of his feet and put them aside.
Sam curled his sock-clad toes inwards.
When Dean straightened up and came to a stand in front of Sam, he was met with a pair of wary hazel-eyes examining him. Dean couldn't exactly tell, what he was seeing in Sam's face, at least not instantly, but it made him feel weird.
"How … ", Sam looked aside. All of a sudden his entire posture changed as if he was insecure? Dean came to stand in between Sam's long legs, looking down at Sam, biting his lower lip hard.
He's never had someone taller than him. He's never had this with someone he had feelings for.
"How do you want … you know …", Sam trailed off, still not looking at Dean, his look glued to the floor. "Do this?" Now he was looking up. His eyes huge, questioning and a hint of something Dean wasn't sure how to name it.
And then it hit Dean like a sledge-hammer driving right home in his crown jewels. Washed over him like a fucking tsunami and nearly drowned him right here and now.
Because right now, Sam, a grown-up man, a fucking demon-hunter, a Gigantor, someone who had the guts to take on a yellow-eyes, was afraid. Outright scared.
Dean decided to not rock that boat. To not even try.
Not after Sam's reaction. The way he looked at him, like some beaten up puppy. How his hands were shaking, his breaths shallow, as if he was holding them back, so to not be too loud.
What had he even though? After … well, what had happened to and with Sam back in the day, and only a few weeks ago? That Sam'd eagerly fall to his knees in front of him? Spread his legs? Act like nothing had ever happened?
Hell, it only now dawned on him, that maybe Sam – despite his age and looks – had never been with anyone before? That maybe, he didn't even get to know, how amazing sex could be with the right partner …
Dean sat down beside Sam and pressed a kiss to his temple. "Let's make out some more? Me and you on the bed?" And – not that Dean Winchester would ever admit it to anyone else outside of this room, but "… and cuddle?"
Sam gave him a weak smile. "Cuddle?"
"And kissing." Dean shrugged and smiled wickedly at Sam. "I can't guarantee for anything though. Could happen, that I'm gonna grope your ass, Sammy."
Just for the record: Dean didn't grope his ass.
But they kissed, and Dean caressed Sam's bare back as soon as he had managed to get Sam out of his shirt in their tangled-up position on the bed. Which seemed to be as far as he could push without Sam tense up under his touch.
And fuck. – Sam being all shy, and so not the dangerous killer he was out there, turned him on so bad.
A part of him felt bad for feeling that way though, since he figured, it was because of all the things that had happened to Sam, and not just because he was unconfident as hell.
Dean stroke Sam until he fell asleep in his arms, curled around him like an octopus holding onto its prey.
He felt chosen. Chosen, because Sam allowed him to be like this with him. He's let him in, and he'd do nothing to mess this up. And if they'd survive the mess going on outside these walls, and as soon as Purgatory's Haven's and Hell's creatures were cast back to where they originally belonged to, he'd stop hunting.
He'd get them a nice place to stay, in a world without Leviathans, Angels and Demons.
~*Apple Pie & Bacon*~
The lights in the bunker were out, replaced by a red pulsating light, signaling that the bunker was on lockdown.
~*Apple Pie & Bacon*~