Twisted Love
Beta'd by mysterychic. Many thanks to her for beta-ing.
Disclaimer: Don't own Supernatural, but I do own Johnny, Kit, their parents, Jack Foel, and Newbridge Falls.
Author's Note: The site's been messing up again, or I'd have posted this sooner. Started and finished in less then a day, I'm getting better and better at this.
Warning: Abuse. I'm pretty sure it is anyway. Yeah, I know, I probably shouldn't have written it if I wasn't sure, but, being the twisted teen that I am, I couldn't stop myself (it fit too well into the story). If you still want to read the story but not the abuse part, just skip over the vision, because that's where it happens.
Review Answers:
DixieBelle51 – Moi? British. No, sorry, incorrect, I was born and raised in Australia. In fact, I still am. Being raised, that is. But not very much, cause I'm fifteen now and can raise myself. I'm gonna stop talking now.
Spuffyshipper – Yeah, poor Sammy. Why is Sammy poor again? (I've done so many things, I've lost track of the reason this time, lol.) Yeah, I figured, he's young, he's understanding, he loves Sam, he's should accept the visions pretty easily.
jka1 – Yeah, I figured, I'll end it there, torment you guys even more and make you wait till this chapter to find out the identity of the creature. An interesting guess, you'll just have to read on and find out (you'll find out early in this chapter). Yeah, I thought it seemed like the kind of thing Sam would do. I could be totally wrong, but it seemed the thing to write at the time. This soon enough?
Miss Meehan – Oh, yay, familiar face. Glad you thought that was good, all that stuff you wrote about Johnny (since I'll just say the same thing to all of it). Okay, that last bit doesn't make much sense to me, but I think I get the gist, glad you like. To your second review, no, it's not. I won't spoil people's guesses and tell you what it is, but their last name's do refer to someone (he's a fictional character in a show where the blonde chick is the fighter). To your third review (just realized it may take you a while to get here and actually read these, but at least you'll get all your answers when you do), the answer to who the succubus is is in this chapter.
Rosalene - Yeah, I think that was a transitional chapter, though I can't actually be sure. And yes, that was a horrifying revelation, but I thought, what the hell, may as well put Sam in danger, again. Yeah, it just seemed to be right for him to make an actual face when he was worried about Sam (though I've paid close enough attention to actually find out if he does or doesn't, I'm normally to busy admiring their...). Yes, I'm not actually sure about this... it might have something to do with what kind of one it is (as you found out in an earlier chapter, there's more then one way for a succubus/incubus to be born - I'm pretty sure I created one of them).Actually, thanks for pointing that out, I just added something to explain it near the end.
Rose of No Man's Land - This soon enough for ya? Lol, you're lucky - a minute later and you'd have been too late to be answered in this chapter, lol. I'm glad you liked that, as I've told... someone else, cant' remember who, it seemed like the kind of thing to write. I think those wee my words anyway. Anyway, yeah, Kit wasn't actually meant to have as big a part in the story as she does, but I thought, what the hell, here she comes. Oh, good, creepy, just what I always wanted. Dream catcher was good? That's good, exactly what I wanted to hear. Yeah, I was actually exhausted when I was writing them, so they were mainly suffering because of how I felt, lol. Really? You think so? I do my very best. I suppose when you write non-stop for a few months, you kind of get a feel for the characters. Wow, a lot like an episodes, that's a compliment I never expected to hear. Well, I'm glad you got in that review before I updated.
Now, let the show begin.
Chapter 9: Shattered Dreams
Sam felt oddly free, like he'd been held down all his life and suddenly the bindings were loose and he was… floating. He didn't think anything could spoil the feeling of freedom that filled him.
Which made it all the more upsetting when someone reached under his head and that feeling of bliss shattered. He was sure his eyes had been opened seconds ago, but he suddenly realized he hadn't seen the figure standing over him until it had touched him. He smiled, feeling sure that the figure was no threat. He felt oddly happy as it sat down on the bed beside him, its face swathed in shadow.
It might've said something, he wasn't sure. His ears felt full of cotton-wool. That didn't bother him though; he didn't think there was anything important to be heard.
It leaned down towards him, and was just about to kiss him when it jerked backwards, and Sam suddenly became aware of something else; it was like something he'd dreamed about but couldn't quite remember, except it was there with him now. He furrowed his brow, trying to recall what it was.
"Don't worry." A blanket of comfort fell over him. Or it felt like it did, anyway. Any doubts about what was going on, and the feeling that there was something he should know, faded away with his companion's voice. It started moving, and he found it straddling his hips suddenly, staring down at him from its shadow-cloaked face. He put his hands on either side of its waist, runnings his hands down towardsit's thighs, and felt himself going hard right behind it,digging into its back slightly. Despite the fact he couldn't see its face, he knew it was smiling hungrily.
It took hold of his wrists and removed his hands from its waist, turning them up and holding them down either side of his head.
And then it leaned down, smothering his lips with its own, fiercely, passionately, exploring his mouth with its tongue. Sam suddenly felt as though something was missing. Something he should be doing, or maybe something he shouldn't be doing.
"You doubt me…" It breathed, and then pulled back, panting a little. "I must… have you. Tell me you… want me, Sam." It seemed to be struggling to get the words out, and Sam felt the least he could do was oblige, especially when he believed it was entirely true.
"I want you." He agreed. "I want you… so much. For so long." Somewhere, everywhere, inside him, someone was crying. He heard them, felt them, he thought he could see them, but not quite, like he was looking out of the corner of his eye and was seeing something that wasn't actually there.
"Sam…" It whispered softly, and he felt its hand shaking where it held his wrists, like it was struggling to hold on. "Don't let me hurt you." It begged. Sam's eyes went wide as saucers as the dream shattered. He recognized that voice.
"Johnny?" He gasped. The shadow had lifted from his lover's, as had whatever spell that had made Sam so compliant. Reflexes kicked in and his hand flew up. Taking his attacker by the throat, he flipped them over –
And fell out of the bed and onto the floor. He blinked, trying to make sense of what he had just seen. His eyes widened again. "Oh, no…" He breathed, his shoulders sagging as he remembered everything that had happened, even the dream he'd had earlier, before he'd gone to bed. It was like a veil had been lifted, and suddenly everything made sense. Except…
Why am I still alive? The succubus… incubus, he correct himself, should've killed me. A gay incubus. Who'd have thought?
Even if the incubus was Johnny… that didn't explain why it… he- Sam couldn't think of Johnny as an 'it', even if he was a sexually-driven demon- hadn't killed Sam. Wasn't the whole get-to-know-you part of the relationship just another part of the game for an incubus? Or had Johnny actually had feelings for Sam? No, that wasn't possible; demons didn't have feelings, at least, not feelings like that. As far as he'd been told, anyway.
"Sam?" Came Dean's groggy voice. "Somethin' wrong?"
"Yeah…" Sam said absently. He suddenly realized what Dean had asked, and the reality of what he'd discovered suddenly came crashing down on him. He inhaled sharply; the realization was almost like a physical blow to his heart. "It's Johnny." He said.
"What? What's Johnny? Is he in trouble?" Dean sat up, any tiredness forgotten for now (as it so often was). "Did you have a nightmare?" Sam shook his head, and Dean ceased his getting up, and turned a confused look toward Sam. "Then… how do you know?" He asked. He suddenly seemed to realize he was looking down at Sam; something he hadn't been able to do since Sam was fifteen. "Sam, why are you on the floor."
"I dreamed." Sam said. He turned to look at Dean. "It's Johnny." He repeated. Dean didn't look any less confused, and Sam sighed. "Johnny's the incubus." He said. Dean blinked, staring at Sam. Unsure what else to do, the older Winchester just fell backwards, sitting down on the bed, half dressed.
"Oh." He said. They sat in silence for a few minutes, both of them letting it sink in. Then Sam explained what had happened, about 'forgetting' about what he'd dreamed, and then Johnny lifting the spell and Sam remembering it all. He was just getting to the bit of how he'd ended up on the floor when Dean's phone rang. Both brothers rushed to answer it (they both used it often enough that it was basically only classified as 'Dean's phone' in name now). Dean managed to get the phone faster. He took a split second to check the caller ID, and then answered it.
"Kit?" He said. "It's…" He glanced at the clock. "Quarter past four, what are you doing up?" He asked.
"We've got a problem." She said.
"Does it have to do with Johnny?" Dean asked. Silence. "I'll take that as a yes."
"He called Mum. He said he was worried about her. But no one answered, so he told me he wanted to go check on her." Kit said. "Then he told me to stay behind because Mum would only stress out if she saw me."
"And you listened to him?" Dean demanded. He was sure Kit shrugged on the other end of the line.
"It's not like he wasn't right." She said. "Besides, that's not the reason I called. The reason I called was because he left at about… seven-thirty and I haven't heard from him since." Dean relayed this information to Sam, who groaned, making a guess at the reason Johnny hadn't contacted Kit. Dean seemed to guess the same thing.
"Was your father home?" He asked.
"I… I don't know, probably." Kit said, and he heard the worry in her voice. "Mum probably got up and went to work, and Dad never answers the phone." She explained.
"Well, that may be why no one answered when he rang." Dean said. "Okay, we'll meet you at your old house. I just hope we're not too late." Kit was obviously confused by that statement, but Dean didn't bother to clarify, he just cut the connection.
"We've gotta get over to Johnny's house." He said.
"Why didn't you tell her that her brother is a sexually-driven demon that could kill her before she even knew he was there?" Sam asked, following Dean out of the room to the parking lot.
"Because she's got enough to worry her on the drive there without me dumping that on her." Dean said. "Come on. If I'm right, I don't think Johnny's in danger from his stepfather anymore." Sam gave him a quizzical look. "I think his stepfather's in danger from him." Sam considered that; it definitely made sense. If Johnny couldn't get what he needed from his intended victim, then he was likely to take it from the next closest person, which happened to be his stepfather.
"Okay, let's go." He said. They reached the car and quickly got in their respective side, with Dean driving. It took them about ten minutes to reach the Fields' residence, and they saw Kit just parking out the front as they arrived.
"Kit!" Dean called, getting out of the car. She looked over at him. "Stay here." He ordered, and then raced up to the house. Sam followed without any hesitation, and caught up with his brother just in time to see him kick the front door down when he couldn't get it open.
"Johnny?" Dean called, and Sam saw his brother reaching for a gun, and he reached forward and seized his brother's wrist before he could stop himself. Dean shot a look over his shoulder, but Sam grabbed the gun and threw it out behind him into the garden.
"I'm not going to have a repeat of Max." He whispered forcefully. "Not with Johnny." His voice was half command, half plea. Dean sighed and reluctantly let it go, turning away from Sam and continuing into the house. The younger Winchester followed.
"Hello?" Dean called, glancing into the first room and seeing nothing out of the ordinary. Sam glanced into the living room. Nothing. The same was true for the next three rooms they checked. Then they came to Johnny's room. Slowly, Dean nudged the door open, and Sam gasped. Johnny's stepfather was lying flat on his back on Johnny's bed. But that wasn't' what shocked Sam.
It was the exact same room he'd originally woken up in when he was in the dream; the one Johnny brought him to when he wanted to get Sam away from the dream catcher's influence.
Dean slowly walked over to the side of the bed and waved his hands over the wide, staring eyes of Damon Fields. No reaction; he hadn't expected any. He looked over at Sam.
"Dead?" Sam didn't bother trying to sound sad. As far as he was concerned, the bastard had deserved to die after what he'd done to Johnny. Dean nodded, but looked back at the body for a long minute.
"But not the way I expected." He said.
"What?" Sam asked, confused.
"His neck is snapped." Dean said, walking out past Sam, who followed a moment later.
Sam and Dean had to clear out after Kit called the cops; they were, after all, still wanted fugitives, and being found at the crime scene of a man with his neck snapped would not do them any good.
So they drove back to the motel, and after a heated discussion about what to do, Dean convinced Sam to take a weapon and they'd split up to find Johnny. Dean could tell that even if Sam did find Johnny, he had no intention of using his weapon; for some reason, Sam still saw Johnny as human even though he was obviously the incubus.
"If we don't find him by… midday, we meet back here, got it?" Dean said. Sam nodded, though he was obviously still fuming about Dean wanting to kill Johnny. "Sam, he's a demon, he's what we were raised to kill." He said forcefully to his younger brother. Sam refused to meet his gaze. "Don't let him kill you if it means letting him live." Dean said, and before Sam could figure out what he meant by that, Dean walked away. With a sigh, Sam slammed the trunk closed, and walked off in the other direction. He didn't really expect to find Johnny; the town might have been small, but it wasn't that small.
Dean didn't actually expect to find Johnny. In fact, a small part of him would be relieved if he didn't, because while the hunter side of him was eager to kill the incubus, the big brother side of him didn't want Sam to hate him for killing Johnny.
But when he saw the tall blonde young man across the street, his hunter instincts kicked in, and he started following him, trying his best to keep out of sight (but with demons, you could never tell if they already knew you were there, whether they could see you or not). He followed Johnny what seemed like halfway across town before something finally happened. Johnny lifted up a manhole and dropped down into the sewers below. Dean crept up to the hole, and stared down into it.
"Okay, I just followed an incubus to a sewer system, let's see." He thought for a minute. "Probably a trap." He glanced up and down the street. No one was there to see him go down. "Might as well get it done." He pulled out his gun, took another step toward the manhole and then hesitated glancing at the gun. With a frustrated sigh, he slid the gun back into place beneath his belt, and took a dart-gun out of an inside pocket of his jacket. "Damn you Sam." He muttered, deciding that he wasn't going to be able to kill Johnny when there was a chance Sam would never forgive him.
With his chosen weapon in hand, Dean dropped down into the sewers below.
The first thing that hit him was the putrid smell. It reminded him frighteningly of the shapeshifter's lair back in St Louis. Doing his very best to push that thought from his mind, he started forward, holding his gun at the ready in case he saw Johnny.
He'd been walking about ten minutes when he realized how unusually quiet the sewers were. It wasn't like people had parties in sewers, but he expected to hear something; water flowing, rats, something. But all there was was silence, and it was making Dean more then a little nervous. Silence was never a good thing in his opinion.
He noticed a panel had been lifted up ahead, revealing a somewhat spacious room on the other side. He slowly moved forward, gun raised slightly as he came up to the opening, which was just large enough for him to go through if he ducked a little. He looked around behind him slowly; making sure Johnny wasn't going to sneak up behind him if he went into the room.
He looked around as he eased into the room. It wasn't much. In fact, it wasn't anything, just a big empty room.
He was just about to turn around and leave when he heard someone behind him. One upside to the sewers being filled with silence: it was hard not to hear every other little sound that wasn't normally there. He spun around and fired from his gun, growling in frustration when Johnny ducked out of the way just in time to avoid being hit by the tranq-dart.
He moved with inhuman speed (which kind of fit, since he technically wasn't human), landing a punch to Dean's face and sending the hunter staggering back. Dean looked up at Johnny, and saw him already out of the room.
"Oh, no you don't!" He shouted, diving for the opening. Johnny slammed the panel shut, and Dean heard the sound of a metal scraping against metal, and when he tried to push the panel open, he found himself locked in. "Johnny?" He shouted. "Johnny!" He heard footsteps on the other side of the door, walking away. "Johnny, you get your scrawny incubus ass back here!" The footsteps stopped, and he thought for a minute that Johnny actually listened to him.
Then, "Why'd you come back?" Johnny sounded strained, like he was having trouble speaking. "Why did you bring him here?"
"What?" Dean called. But Johnny had already started walking away again. With another growl of frustration, Dean kicked at the steel panel, to no avail. Whatever Johnny had pulled across in front of the door, it wasn't moving anytime soon. He kicked it again out of pure frustration.
Sam was just checking his watch to find out how long it'd be until midday when his phone rang. He took it out and checked the caller ID before answering it.
"What is it, Dean?" He asked. Whatever his brother wanted to say, however, was drowned out in static, with only the occasional word getting through. "Dean, I can't hear you." More static, and he sighed. "I'll talk to you later." He said, and hung up. Shaking his head in exasperation, he slid the phone back into a pocket of his jeans.
The front door opened slowly and Johnny walked in, pocketing his keys as he did so, wondering why the hell the door was locked. He looked up the hall as he came in, and saw a light on in the living room.
Sam froze, looking a little disoriented for a minute before his mind registered what was happening and his eyes widened as he felt a familiar pain in his head. He looked around, trying to ignore it, trying to decide where to look for Johnny next.
"Mum?" He said softly as he reached the living room and looked in. He froze and took an involuntary step back when he saw his stepfather sitting on the couch, not his mother, quite obviously drunk.
Sam inhaled sharply, grimacing as he took a step forward, still trying to ignore the pain. He wiped his eyes, feeling them water as vision ripped through his mind. He took one more step before it took over completely.
"You were due back hours ago, you little weasel." Damon snapped at the boy. "Where the hell've you been?" His words were slightly slurred, and Johnny saw a few empty bottles on the floor in front of the couch. "Your mother was worried sick when she left for work." Johnny winced, but had a feeling that wasn't why Damon was so angry at him. He took a step back as the older man got unsteadily to his feet.
"I… I had to…" He gulped, not sure what he could tell his stepfather. Nothing he said ever did any good anyway. "The motel called, I-" He was cut off as the back of his stepfather's hand connected with his face and he was knocked backwards.
The boy looked up, his whole body shaking, his lip split where Damon's hand had connected. Closer inspection showed the beginning of tears in his eyes, but he tried to hold them back. Crying just made everything worse. He'd learned that the hard way many, many times.
He cowered in his stepfather's shadow as the older man took another step towards him, trying to look as small and unthreatening as he could. Not that it helped, it was just what his body told him to do.
The older man reached down and lifted Johnny to his feet by the collar of his shirt, and held him there when the boy's legs refused to keep him standing. He glared at Johnny disdainfully, and didn't miss the whimper of fear that escaped the young teen's lips. He growled.
"Don't you start crying." He snapped. Johnny sniffled, and tried to keep control of himself. "Men don't cry, they stand up and take things as they come." He let go of Johnny, he crashed to his knees at his stepfather's feet. "Get up." Johnny looked up at the older man, but that was all the movement he could managed. "Get. Up." Johnny shook his head, unable to stop the tears anymore. He started to sob quietly on the floor. Damon growled, and without stopping to think, kicked the boy lightly in the abdomen.
Johnny yelped in shock and pain and curled in on himself, but he didn't get a chance to recover from the as Damon pulled him to his feet again, this time by his arm. Johnny had had enough trouble standing before, now, winded, he couldn't even think of standing, so his stepfather mostly dragged him down the hall to his bedroom (for once, Johnny was thankful his mother hadn't carpeted the floors) and dumped him unceremoniously on the floor.
The young teen instinctively tried to move away, only to be grabbed by the scruff of his shirt and dragged back. He squeezed his eyes shut, wrapping his arms around himself and wished desperately for somebody to come and save him. Tears were falling freely down his face, and he kept murmuring random prayers and pleas through the sobbing.
His stepfather reached down and pulled him to his feet for the third time, this time pulling him over to the bed.
"Take off your pants." He ordered the boy. Something between a cough and a whimper escaped Johnny's throat, and he shook his head quickly. "Now!" The older man roared as if he hadn't seen Johnny's refusal. Johnny shook his head again.
"No-" He started, only to be cut off as his stepfather's fist connected with his jaw.
Sam gasped, jerking his head to the side as if he had felt the blow. A few people were staring at him, had been for the past few minutes like he was crazy; he'd just stood there as if frozen.
Tentatively, he reached up and touched his cheek, and breathed a deep sigh of relief when he felt no pain. He looked around, and realized that everyone nearby was watching him. Shaking his head, he continued walking, ignoring the stares that were following him.
As he walked, he thought about the vision, and realization suddenly he hit him. When the vision had ended, he had simply thought he was being shown what had happened the night before, but now he realized that that wasn't the case. The more he thought about it, the more sure he was that Johnny had been at least a year younger then he was now; for one thing, he'd been shorter.
And suddenly, the final piece of the puzzle regarding Johnny being an incubus had just clicked into place. He hurried back to the motel, even though he still had a couple of hours before he had to meet Dean there; he needed to examine the books on incubi and succubae that he and Dean had borrowed from the library.
He opened the door and almost ran to the table, quickly glancing over each of the books until he found the one he needed. He picked it up, went over and sat on his bed, and began to read, finding out everything he need to be sure of the conclusion he'd come to.
He had been trying to figure out how Johnny could be an incubus ever since he'd woken up that morning. The vision had given him the answer. It turned out that there were two requirements for a succubus or incubus to 'sire' a normal human. The first was that the person had to be willing in some way or another; judging by the state Johnny had been in, Sam had a feeling he'd have been willing to do just about anything to make his stepfather leave him alone. The second requirement was that the person had to have experienced some form of sexual distress at some point in their life. It wasn't specific on what kind of distress, but Sam had a feeling Johnny definitely had that down as well.
This also explained why Johnny was only ever in one shape when he visited Sam; because he was still essentially human, just with... updates in his bodily functions.
The thought of what had been done to him made Sam want to bring Damon Fields back to life just so he could kill him again. The feeling was not entirely unfamiliar to Sam; it was close to the need for revenge that had filled him ever since Jess died, but… different, somehow.
His thoughts were interrupted when the door opened. He looked up, expecting to see Dean, and immediately got to his feet, snapping the book shut, when he saw Johnny standing in the doorway, sweating profusely, a slightly not-quite-there look in his eyes. As Sam stood there, waiting to see what he did, Johnny gave him a smile that lacked warmth as much as his eyes lacked life.
"Not who you were expecting?" He asked.
A/N: Well, that went a lot longer then expected. I hadn't realized it could take so long to get Dean locked up in the sewers and give Sam a vision. Hope it was okay. Until next time, Cyas.
