A/N- Hey, everyone! I am so happy to have received so many prompts so soon. Obviously, I can't write them all immediately, but I will do it as quickly as I can. I will try and get around to all of them, starting with the first person to respond- Dargur. Thank you so much to you and everyone else that prompted. Here is my response to your prompt 'Sam fever.' This is my take on it; sorry if its not what you had in mind, but the prompt was a tad ambiguous. Hope you enjoy! :)
Dean kicked the large wooden door down with tremendous gusto, almost throwing himself off balance when it swung open with ease. He shook his head and grunted in frustration, charging across the threshold, gun raised and eyes squinted. Sam followed, eyeing his brother nervously as he took note of how on-edge he was and his determinedness to get the job done as efficiently as possible. He'd been like this for the past few weeks. Ever since he'd come back from Purgatory it was like the smallest things set him off. He took even the simplest hunting jobs with the same amount of seriousness and importance as he did when fighting the Leviathans.
Sam had taken to constantly checking over his shoulder or out of the corner of his eye to make sure Dean wasn't doing anything reckless or unnecessary. Dean had been taking the same precautions with Castiel. Around the angel, Dean seemed to be in a perpetual state of stupefaction or nervousness. Sam suspected it had less to do with the fact that Castiel was new and inexperienced on hunts and more to do with the lingering mystery of how Cas had escaped Purgatory himself. Dean- and Sam too, for that matter -let themselves surround Cas with the same amount of wariness and caution as they would a ticking time bomb.
When it came to Sam's well-being, on the other hand, Dean disregarded it completely. Since learning of Sam's initial quittance of hunting and his unjustifiable inability to search for his brother in Purgatory, Dean had given little notice of his brother at all. They barely spoke and every hunt or job they undertook was plagued with an uncomfortable sense of mistrust and unspoken remarks.
Castiel sauntered in after the two brothers, arms still at his sides, his eyes meticulously surveying the room, calmness and collectedness painting his features. He walked right past Sam and joined Dean at his side. He, too, was upset with Sam's actions and excuses and, although he wasn't completely shutting the youngest Winchester out as Dean had, he did seem to be favouring Dean a lot more than he used to.
Sam's forehead twitched and he sighed, poising his own gun at the ready. The inside of the abandoned church was empty, which was unexpected by not totally derailing. Sam had found out about this case through an article online. Apparently, young school girls were being found dead and discarded in alleyways, drained of blood. The girls all had a mark carved into their chests that resembled a cross with an intricately designed circular shape encompassing it. Sam had taken advantage of the resources at the bunker- which he was really starting to appreciate -and discovered that this specific group of vampires had been around for centuries, drinking and draining virginal teens before leaving their mark on their bodies and discarding them.
They'd followed the trail of bodies and evidence provided by the coroners and it had led them here. But, somewhat surprisingly, their perpetrator's supposed hideout was empty. That didn't seem to dishearten Dean.
"Here, blood-sucky blood-sucky." He crept forward into the small room slowly. "Come out for Dean. We don't hurt you," he said, a small smile of enjoyment playing on his sharp features.
Suddenly, whimpering sounded at the far left corner of the room and all guns turned towards it. Two teenage girls, one dressed without bottoms, emerged from the doorway, hands raised.
"Please, don't shoot," one of them said- the taller one, with long flowing black hair. "We just want to go home."
Sam's grip on his gun relaxed slightly, but Dean stayed as alert as ever. "Where are the vampires?"
The other girl looked on the verge of tears, her lip starting to quiver as she whispered, "V-vampires?"
"Yes, vampires," said Cas innocently. "They are millennia-old creatures that do not age and feed on the blood of humanity."
The room paused and Sam shot Cas a disapproving and incredulous look before the smallest girl curled in on herself and broke down in tears, the other clutching her shoulders and whispering to her ear.
That's when Dean saw it. The taller girl had bent her head forward, exposing her whole face which had been previously partially hidden in shadow. A small trickle of red was shining at the corner of her mouth as it moved to try and comfort her sobbing friend. Dean's eyes widened and he moved on impulse. A deafening shot rang through the room as a bullet was fired from Dean's gun, colliding with the girl's leg.
Sam and Cas shouted angry and confused remarks as the girl doubled over in pain. But the protests stopped when she leaned forward, glaring and hissing at the three men as she bared her fangs. The other girl removed her hands from her face, rolling her eyes as she exasperatedly dried her tears.
She looked Dean dead in the eyes and sighed, "Oh, baby, you really shouldn't have done that."
The girl moved before anyone had time to react. Her hand reached inside her pocket and when it protruded, she clutch a small bundle in her hand. She threw it over to where Cas and Dean stood side-by-side.
"Adoratio!" She shouted and a cloud of purple smoke erupted from the bag, engulfing Dean and Cas.
Sam covered his mouth with his sleeve, coughing ferociously. "They've got a witch!" He said and called out to his two companions that it was a hex bag, but heard no response.
Suddenly, seven or eight snarling bloodsuckers burst through the door and came charging at Sam. He was able to take a couple of them down with a Dean-Man's Blood bullet to the brain, but as more started filing out into the aisle of the church they began to overwhelm him. Reaching into the holster on his belt, he pulled out a machete and used it to decapitate one as it jumped him.
He gasped as his arm was wrenched from his side, clasped in the hands of a vampire as it attempted to bite down. Sam scrunched up his face, but right before the teeth made contact, a large blade cut right through the centre of the vampire's head and it collapsed to the ground. Looking up, Sam saw Dean looming over the body of his would-be killer, his face attentive and scrupulous. Nothing seemed to be amiss with the eldest Winchester, considering he'd just been hit by a hex bag. But then he did something that truly shocked Sam: he held out his hand for him. Sam stared at it for a few seconds before taking it tentatively. He braced himself for his brother to let go but when he didn't Sam was able to hoist himself up. Sam was shocked; for the past few weeks, Dean had made it very clear that everything between them would be strictly business and nothing more. And although helping him up was such a meagre gesture, it had thus far been within Dean's realm of 'brotherly affection.' Dean should've just left him there to stand up himself, but instead opted to take the time to help him to his feet. It was a small thing, but maybe it was the start of their reconciliation.
Dean then walked away to take care of a large group of vampires clamouring their way and Sam spotted Cas stabbing vampires left, right and centre with tremendous speed only a celestial being could possess. He paused every few stabs to instead place his index and middle finger to the foreheads of his attackers, knocking them unconscious.
Sam turned to face his own pursuers, decapitating them as quickly as possible before another would advance. After about ten minutes of the sounds of grunts, snarls of metal connecting with skin, the fighting had stopped. Dozens of bodies littered the floor, but none belonged to the Winchesters or the angel.
Dean sighed in relief before dropping his blade and sauntering over to his little brother. Once he'd reached him, he grasped him by the shoulder and pulled him into a tight embrace. Sam released a sound of immense surprise as his face contorted in confusion. dean only tightened his grip and emitted sounds of contentment and satisfaction. Sam furrowed his brow and tentatively returned to embrace.
"Dean... you good?"
Dean simply pulled away, clasping his brother's face between his hands, a soft look in his eye, 'I'm good if you're good."
Sam opened his mouth but no sound came out. Before he'd been hoping for reconciliation, but this was just weird. Even before when they were on good terms Dean would never reduce himself to this level of sappiness.
Before Sam could respond, Cas spoke. "Yes, Sam," Cas squinted his blue eyes. "How are you? Did you get hurt?" Concern suddenly laced his voice and Sam shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.
"No," Sam said slowly. "Did you... get... hurt?"
Cas straightened himself to his full height, a small smile forming on the corners of his mouth. "I'm perfectly ok if you are."
Sam just stared at him for a while, "So, you didn't get hurt from the hex bag?"
"No. I'm positively fine. I'm even more glad that hex bag hadn't been thrown at you, though."
Dean lowered his hands from Sam's face and backed away to stand opposite Castiel. Sam licked his lips in anticipation- of what, he did not know. When nothing happened and nothing more was said, he gestured with his thumb towards the door, "Shall we go?"
Dean nodded, pushing his hand out in front of him pleasantly, "After you."
Sam turned and had only walked a few steps when Dean's bellowing voice suddenly and abrasively called after him, "Watch out for the bodies!"
The taller brother just turned and looked at him. He gave a concerned half-smile, raising his eyebrows as he exaggeratedly side-stepped around the bodies. He held his hands up in mock surrender and his brother just nodded at him, smiling.
Sam hurried out the door and climbed into the passenger seat of the Impala, head in hands as he sighed. What the hell was that? It was only a few moments before Dean and Cas joined him in the vehicle, Cas in the back, Dean behind the wheel.
Nobody said a word as the engine was revved and they sped off back to the bunker. The car ride remained silent and awkward for the first hour or so before Sam decided that he had to get a question off his chest that had been lingering there for quite some time now.
"Hey, Dean?" Sam said, breaking the silence.
"Yeah?" Dean asked, turning to face Sam, taking his eyes off the road.
Sam raised his eyebrows and flicked his eyes towards the road and Dean apologised and looked back. "Can I ask you something?" Sam continued.
"Anything," Dean said, much too sincerely.
Sam paused before asking, "How did you know for sure that girl was a vampire?"
Dean answered immediately, "Because she had blood on her mouth, Sammy."
"Yeah, right. But, you know full well that often vampires like to force their prey to feed on their own blood too. They think of it as a kind of sadistic fetish." He paused again, waiting for Dean's response, and when it didn't come he went back to his rant. "Dean, my point is you acted incredibly impulsively. You could have shot and maimed an innocent young girl back there!"
Dean began to get slightly defensive, "I guess I was just worried about you! I had only your wellbeing in mind, Sam! Is that such a crime?"
Sam pinched the bridge of his nose, "Why, though, Dean? Why? For the past month, you've barely said a word to me and now you've all of sudden gone back to protective big brother mode to the extreme! What the hell is wrong with you?"
Abruptly, Dean stopped the car in the middle of the road and turned to face Sam, squeezing his jaw between his fingers juvenilely. "Listen to me. It doesn't matter. All that matters is that you are okay. That's all I care about and I am so glad that nothing happened to you in that fight."
Sam sat there blankly until Dean released his face and started up the engine again. Sam soon felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see Castile with his seatbelt off, leaning forward in his seat, face centimetres from Sam's. He place a hand on his shoulder and looked into his eyes earnestly. "So am I." Sam gave the angel a quick nod of his head and an unsettled smile.
When the trio finally arrived back at the bunker, Sam was eager to get to bed. His head hurt from all the commotion that had ensued that night, plus his brother's and best friend's odd behaviour. Sam climbed out of the front seat groggily and clumsily, stretching his arms as he made his way towards the door. As his arms were outstretched, he felt a force tugging on the sleeves enclosing them. He looked to see Dean attempting to remove his jacket, and when he
shot him a mortified and confused look, Dean simply looked at him and said, "I'll get that and hang it up for you."
Sam wrapped the jacket even more tightly around himself defensively. "I'm fine, thanks. I can get it myself."
Dean nodded and walked away towards the door, Cas in his stead, who stopped in front of Sam, briefly staring him in the eyes as if curiously before moving to follow again. Sam ran a hand through his long hair, blowing out his cheeks in disbelief. He swore under his breath, giving himself a moment before entering the bunker.
Once inside, Sam tiredly decided to neglect his usual report he made after hunts and go straight to bed. He turned the corner into the corridor and jumped when he saw Dean and Cas standing there, side by side and obstructing his path. Sam leaned against the wall, clutching his heart and took note of how they stayed perfectly still.
Sam raised an eyebrow and waved his hand in front of their eyes to see if he could get a reaction. He wasn't expecting Cas to suddenly blurt out his name, which caused him to jump out of our fright yet again.
Cas then walked forward and began speaking to Sam again as if robotically, "Would you like any help getting ready for bed?" Sam was too discombobulated to answer. Cas resumed, "I shall look over you through the night to make sure nothing unsafe befalls you."
"Uh," Sam said, weaving around Cas. "That won't be necessary."
He backed away from the confused-looking angel and turned sharply only to be met with Dean. The two were so close that their chests were touching and Sam looked up at the roof and around the room awkwardly, pushing his tongue around his mouth in discomfort. Dean reached a hand up and wiped off invisible lint from Sam's shoulder, before wrapping his arms around his brother's body, constricting his air. Sam exhaled sharply due to the tight embrace.
Dean went on his tip-toes and whispered in Sam's ear, "I love you, brother."
Sam patted Dean on the back uncertainly, trying to get him to let go. "Yeah, love you too, bro," Sam said half-heartedly.
He just about managed to push his brother off and immediately hurried down the hall, slamming the door behind him. He didn't even dare venture out into the hallway bathroom to brush his teeth for fear of running into his infernal housemates. Instead, he changed into his pyjamas and climbed into bed, hoping that everything would be normal in the morning.
Sam was awoken in the middle of the night by some unknown source. He flicked his eyes open and saw his digital alarm clock blaring big red numbers: 3:27. Sam groaned at having woken up so early and turned to his side to try and get comfortable and go back to sleep again. He let out an ear-piercing yell when he felt someone else's presence on his left and looked up to see Dean perched on the bed beside him, looking down at him through the eerie darkness. Sitting beside him farther away from Sam he could just make out Castiel, his eyes like a cat's in the night.
"What the hell?" Sam shouted accusatorily. "Get out!"
"You're so beautiful when you sleep," Cas commented calmly. Sam felt like he was going to throw up.
Dean spoke up, "Sorry, Sam. We both agreed that we couldn't sleep. We both had this terrible feeling that something awful was going to happen to you in your sleep." He ran a large hand through Sam's hair, "You know we just both love you so much. We couldn't handle it if anything happened to you." Cas nodded along in agreement.
"Okay," said Sam, deciding he was far too tired to deal with this right now. He held his hands above his head. "Well, look. I'm fine. Nothing bad has happened." When the two didn't get the memo, Sam practically screamed at them, "You can go now!"
Cas and Dean exchanged wary glances. Looking back at Sam they said, "We'd feel much better if we stayed in here, thanks." Sam groaned loudly into his pillow and let out a muffled 'fine.' Before he knew it, he felt the bed beneath his shifting and looked up to see Cas and Dean climbing in on either side of him.
"Wha- That's not- What!" Sam stuttered in bewilderment as Dean and Cas both snuggled into his sides protectively- Dean on his right, Cas on his left. Within minutes the two were snoring peacefully, while Sam was left to stare at the ceiling disconcertedly all night.
When Sam woke up for the second time, it was morning and he was alone, thank God. His door was wide open and he could hear Dean and Cas happily chatting away in the kitchen, which was only a few feet away from his room. Sam swung himself out of bed. He'd only got back to sleep around 5:30 and it was now 7:00. His brain felt much too tired to even comprehend what had happened last night, and yet the imprints of the angel and his brother in his bed forced him to. He almost considered sending a quick prayer upstairs that everything would be back to normal, but he knew that that would only fall on Cas's ears.
Meandering through his door and down the hallway, he detected the distinct smell of toast and fried eggs in the air. Stepping into the kitchen, he saw Cas at the kitchen counter, currently chopping an orange to presumably add to the large mound of fruit he had piled in the bowl in front of him. Dean was at the stovetop, frying bacon from what Sam could see. The two were gazing at each other with broad grins on their faces. All chatter stopped when Sam walked in. Sam had attempted to curl in on himself to stop the two from noticing him but it was no use. The two dropped everything immediately- very literally in that Dean relinquished his spatula and Cas his knife, sending them clattering to the ground.
They both came pounding towards him and enveloped him in an accentuated hug. Sam sighed inwardly and rolled his eyes as the two fought for dominance of the hug.
Cas spoke first, "Oh, thank God you're here. Breakfast is almost ready, we-"
Dean cut him off, "It's so good to see you, little bro."
The once civil and calming demeanour of the both of them vanished when Cas sent Dean a perturbed look for having interrupted him. Dean smugly replied with a passive-aggressive smile and shrugged.
Cas narrowed his eyes, before forcing a faux friendly smile on his face when he glanced at Sam. He put his hand on his friend's back and led him over to the table in the corner, which was jam-packed with all manner of delectable foods and delicacies.
Cas sat him down before going to fetch the bowl of fruit he had prepared. Dean was staring at Sam, but quickly broke his gaze and rushed over sheepishly as smoke started to ascend from his neglected pan. Soon there was a huge mound of bacon placed in front of Sam, making his eyes water from the proximity of the heat.
The three of them tucked in, with Sam eating a little less eagerly due to his ever-growing wariness of the two men next to him. It was only a few minutes into the meal when Dean suddenly reached out and rested his palm over Sam's hand. Sam recoiled in horror, looking up at Dean's soft and caring face. "Are you enjoying your meal?"
Sam quickly pulled his hand away. "Uh, yeah... sure. Thanks."
Averting his eyes from Dean's face, he blanched as he all of a sudden felt a hot wet pressure on his cheek. He shifted his gaze to see that Cas had leaned over and planted a kiss on his face. Sam made a disgusted face and immediately started wiping his hands exaggeratedly across his face as soon as Cas retreated to try and remove all the moisture.
"Would you guys knock it off!" Sam was unsure of even what to say at this point. He was so unbelievably repulsed and confused.
Dean cleared his throat, "Someone's smothering him."
Cas slowly turned his head towards Dean, his face falling into a grimace and then a sneer. "What did you say?" Cas elocuted every word.
Dean planted his gaze on Cas as he leaned forward complacently. "It's clear Sam likes me better. Don' you Sam?" He looked at his brother, but he was too dumbfounded to acknowledge the question. "You shouldn't even be here, angel." Sam squirmed at the nonchalant dehumanisation of their friend. "We all know Sam's better off with just me. I know how to take care of him. I've known him longer. All you do is get people hurt or killed."
Cas stood up from his chair, the wood screeching as it scraped against the floor. "I've only known him four years and yet I've managed to form a stronger bond with him than you ever will, plus keep him safer and dead fewer times than you have in the last twenty-nine years, you impotent fool! It's so blatantly clear I love him more!"
Sam's head was reeling as he glanced back and force between the two like an insult-powered tennis match, yearning for the previous amiability they'd both been exhibiting just a few minutes ago. Dean stood up to join Cas and pointed a finger at him. "I care about him so much more than you. I would die for him. I would go to Hell and back for him... oh, wait, I did!"
Castiel narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips, "I should never have raised your ungrateful ass from perdition. Sam is the one I truly care about! I flew into the Cage and rescued Sam right from the Devil's clutches."
"Yeah, and you forgot his bloody soul in the process! Some avenging angel you are!"
The anger bubbling away in Castiel was almost palpable. Abruptly, Castiel reached down and picked up the knife he'd been using to cut the fruit. Without warning, he lunged at Dean, swinging the knife at his throat. Dean swerved out of the way and the blade collided with his shoulder, forming a deep red streak.
Dean cried out in pain as he reached for a bowl. Throwing it, the object converged with his head and blood started to trickle down his forehead. The steady flow came to a halt quickly enough as Sam saw the cut stitch itself.
"I don't even care that Sam didn't look for us in Purgatory," Cas shouted.
Cas went back in for the kill, stabbing out towards Dean's stomach, but was intersected when his target grabbed Cas's arm and wrenched it out of the way. Dean was strong enough, though, to fully compete with an angel and the blade impaled his leg instead. Dean grimaced and let out a stifled whine, before picking up a frying pan precariously balancing on the edge of the countertop and swinging it at Cas's arm. The blade was knocked out of his grip and fell to the floor.
Cas looked stunned for a moment, but within seconds had wrestled Dean to the ground and began wailing on him. Cas's fist was a blur as it smashed into Dean's face over and over again, opening up cuts all over his head. Reaching out weakly, Dean's hand discovered the discarded knife. Grabbing it, he desperately plunged the utensil into Castiel's stomach.
The infuriated angel looked down at himself and slowly and deliberately withdrew the bloodied knife, tossing it aside once again as his gaping wound began to close. It allowed Dean just enough time to kick out and send Castiel staggering back. Dean jumped up and rammed himself into Cas's stomach, sending them both crashing into a wall as they each fought for domination.
"Care?" Dean began. "I'm positively thrilled. Sam was right to leave your ass to rot in Purgatory like you should be doing right now!"
Dean grabbed Cas by the collar and flung him around and downwards, forcing his head to collide with the countertop. Castiel fell to the floor and Dean straddled him, only getting in a few good punches before Cas hand flipped them both around. Cas was now on top of Dean again and had resumed punching. Dean's face was a bloody disoriented mess in seconds, his head lolling to the side as he struggled to form words.
Up until this point, Sam had been lost in a kind of dazed stupor as he watched his best friend and brother completely destroy themselves over him. As he looked over at Cas's rapidly moving hand, he realised he had no intention of stopping his attack. With Castiel's celestial strength against Dean's mortality, the eldest Winchester would be dead in less than a minute. Breaking free of his trance, he stumbled over to Cas and attempted to wrench the angel off of Dean.
When Cas resisted, Sam cried out.
"Please, Cas! Stop! you're going to kill him." Cas relaxed slightly at the sound of Sam's voice, giving Sam enough leeway to be able to force Castiel onto his feet and off of Dean.
The second Castiel was up, Dean was too. His face looked torn and mutilated, but the immense intent to bring Castiel to his ruin seemed to drive him forward. he picked up the knife again and started staggering toward Sam and Cas. Thinking quickly, Sam shoved Castiel against the far wall and shielded him with his body. He didn't feel much like protecting the angel after what he'd just seen him do to his brother, but he knew that if he was in the middle of the fight, neither two would dare advance.
Apparently, he was wrong.
The two did hesitate briefly, but soon enough Cas was pushing Sam aside into the buffet of food, a wave of red-hot rage blinding the angel. Sam let out a pained groan, and, upon hearing it, Castiel seemed to finally fully relaxed. His brows furrowed and his blue eyes became wide and concerned. He rushed over to Sam, who was lying on the floor, massaging his head. Dean too rushed over after dropping his weapon. The two crouched down in front of him and all adversity seemed to wash away.
"Sam, baby," Castiel said, reaching out towards the youngest Winchester's head. "I can't believe I did that. I'm so sorry. Are you alright?"
Dean cupped Sam's face in his hands, his own face barely recognisable, "Don't worry; we're gonna get you all bandaged up. You'll be good as new."
Staring at his brother's face, he knew he couldn't just sit there. He had to do something- quick, before these guys decided that he was less important than killing the other. Acting on the first plan that came to mind, Sam sucker-punched Dean as hard as he could, sending him sprawling on the kitchen floor.
He looked towards Cas, unsure of what his reaction would be, only to see that the manic glint in his eyes had returned. He turned and ruffled Sam's hair.
"Good job. That was very quick thinking. I'm proud of you." He looked sincerely into Sam's eyes. "You know it was only a matter of time before he made a mistake and put your life at risk... again. It's better this way and you know it."
Sam only nodded. "Yeah."
"Now," Cas said, standing up and grabbing the knife. "Let's finish the job."
Sam felt bile rise in his throat at the sinister implication and he quickly held his arms out to stop his friend. "Woah, woah, woah," he said, standing up.
Cas turned to face him confusedly and Sam put a wary hand on his shoulder, truly petrified of being near Cas when he was in this unpredictable state and wielding a knife.
Sam did his best to force sincerity into his voice. "Cas, as you know, of course, Dean is my brother." Cas cocked his head to the side. "Now, although he is," Sam swallowed, "a danger to me, I was thinking that we... don't kill him." Cas's head tilted even more. "Instead, why don't we just chain him up and then maybe hand him over to..." Sam was completely spit-balling here. "Some vampires or werewolves. Let them do with him as they like. That way, not only can he not hurt anyone- uh, me -ever again, but he gets what he deserves."
Sam was so unsure of what he just said that it almost sounded like a question when he'd concluded. He scrunched up his face in anticipation as Castiel appeared to consider it.
Suddenly, a broad smile washed over his face. "I love it. You truly are a wonder."
Sam released a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. "Cool, then. I'll, uh, just go down to the dungeon then and get some chains."
Cas watched him as he backed out of the room, neither of them taking their eyes off the other for very separate reasons. "You do that," said Cas, innocently.
Sam crept down the stairs into the basement of the bunker. Once inside, he ran to the cabinet on the far wall and gathered up loose chains that he saw dangling on the bottom shelf. After he'd secured them, he went in search of sigiled handcuffs. He was still incredulous that Cas had fallen for that seemingly obvious plan he'd concocted. Nevertheless, here he was.
Finding the angel cuffs, he slowly and carefully made his way back up the stairs, briefly abandoning the normal chains at the threshold of the basement so as not to make too much of a rattling noise and alert Castiel as to his presence.
He saw Castiel still standing and looking down at Dean in the kitchen. Sam crept up behind the angel and, once he had got close enough, jumped him. There was a bit of a struggle, but Sam had been careful when positioning his hands so that the cuffs were in a convenient place for him to just snap them on Cas's wrists. And so he did.
He heard the click of the metal and saw Cas's bewildered face as he turned around to face his assailant. "Sorry, Cas," Sam said.
Cas looked up at him sadly with a betrayed glint in his eyes that almost made Sam feel bad for him. Almost. Wrenching Cas by the chains, he hauled him towards the oven and wound the chains around the handle that jutted out of the appliance. He produced a padlock from his pocket and fastened it around the metal bindings, trapping Cas.
Turning around, he saw that Dean was starting to stir on the floor and he hastily went to fetch the chains in the other room. When he returned, he locked the chains around Dean's wrist and fastened them to the leg of the kitchen table. He was immensely grateful that the table was bolted to the ground, therefore nullifying any chance of Dean escaping.
Standing up with a heave and a sigh, he surveyed his two captees. "You two just... stay here." He almost laughed at the irony. "I'm gonna go find out what the hell happened to you two."
He spun on his heel to leave and was nearly stopped by the sound of Dean saying, "As long as you're safe."
Sam cringed at the remark and even further so when he heard Cas call out as he closed the door, "Have fun!"
Sam grunted and slid down the door to rest at the bottom, knees up and head in hands. Even chained up they still loved him. Sam was in excruciating mental anguish as to what the hell to do. This whole situation was just so incredibly weird.
Sam ran his hands through his hair, stopping to rub his eyes and yawn with exhaustion. He'd spent the whole day searching for answers and was now working well into the night. He'd looked through all the lore on demonic possession, ghost possession, poisons, potions and everything to do with celestial curses and their effect on humans. Nothing.
He was awoken from his reverie by a voice from his right, "Sam? You still there?"
Although he had his phone on speaker, he picked it up and brought it close to his face out of habit before speaking. "Yeah. Sorry, Jody. Just tired."
He really felt bad about having involved Jody in this mess, but he hadn't known who else to turn to. Sam had figured that this was not one of those situations that he could just leave to himself and pretend he had all under control. Sam had been debating calling Jody the second he started researching Cas and Dean's strange phenomenon but had only actually done it just about an hour ago when the constant yelling from the kitchen became too unbearable. Every few minutes, either Cas or Dean would yell out some lovey-dovey remark to Sam that would make his stomach squirm with embarrassment and annoyance.
Jody had taken it upon herself to constantly laugh and comment on some of the more particularly cringey ones, but Sam could see that even now she was getting slightly perturbed.
"Remind me again when they started acting like this?" Jody asked with a sigh.
"Well," Sam began half-heartedly, "It only really escalated early this morning when Cas attacked Dean. Up until that point it had just been a series of random embarrassing moments where they appeared to absolutely adore me."
"No, but when did it actually start?" Jody clarified. "I mean, when did you first notice something was amiss?"
Sam thought about that for a moment. "A couple of days ago we took down a notorious nest of vampires in Pennsylvania. Dean hugged me right after we'd ganked them. That'd probably be when."
"But, I mean, you're brothers. It's not that weird- I've seen Dean hug you before."
Sam paused for a moment, contemplating it. "Not anymore," he said solemnly and almost absent-mindedly. He shook his head, "Plus, it was a regular hunt.
We were never in serious immediate danger. Dean should've never have felt the need to hug me or protect me, or-"
"But was it a regular hunt?" Jody cut him off.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean," Jody said, annoyed. "Did anything strange happen? Did they ingest something? Did they touch something? Did they find out some shocking news or something?"
Then it dawned on him. Sam was so annoyed with himself for having not figured it out earlier that he actually wanted to kick himself. "They were hit with a hex bag."
"What?"
"There was a witch. She threw a hex bag at them, hit them with a spell."
"Ok," Jody said. Sam could tell from her tone that she was equally as annoyed and deeply incredulous at him for only connecting the dots now. "What was the spell? Do you remember it?"
Sam thought back and began racking his brain. So much had been going on that night that that small detail seemed to have been lost in his memory. "I don't know," Sam admitted. "I think it started with an 'A.' 'Ad' or 'Ag' or something." Sam closed his eyes. "Wait a minute."
Sam opened a new browser window on his laptop and typed in 'Wiccan Love Spells.' The lore that appeared was incredibly extensive and covered hundreds of love and mesmerisation spells. Eventually, Sam found a website that listed all known ones alphabetically. He started to read through them pedantically, crossing them off one-by-one by the power of elimination. He didn't have to read long, as he only got to the sixth one when a bell rang in his mind.
"Adoratio." Sam breathed. He spoke a little louder so Jody could hear him. "Adoratio. That's the spell. It's Latin for 'adoration.'
"Fitting," said Jody.
Sam clicked on the link attached to the name and it brought him to an online information page derived from an old Wiccan grimoire. Runic symbols and pictures of ancient drawings littered the site, and Sam had to carefully maneuver his eyes to distinguish the text.
"It says that whoever is on the receiving end of the spell will develop undying loyalty and adoration towards the closest unaffected person. They'll compulsively want to keep them safe and shower them with love and respect incessantly."
Sam found himself lost in the glow of the screen, his mind off in a reverie after finally having figured out what the hell was going on with his brother and best friend. He was jolted from his trance when Jody's voice sounded.
"You could say they have Sam fever," she half scoffed, half chortled.
Sam stopped, the silence showing Jody he was unimpressed with the observation.
"Sorry."
There was another pregnant pause.
"Alright," said Jody. "That's all well and good, but it still leaves a glaring question."
"What?"
"Why?" Jody said. "Why would a witch waste a hex bag on a spell like that when she could've used one to annihilate the threw of you or, or... turn your bodies inside out. I mean, unless she was planning on annoying you to death, what's the point?"
"Good question," Sam said, beginning to scroll down further into the website to attempt to get some answers. "Dean and Cas did try to kill each other. Maybe it has something to do with that."
That's when Sam reached the bottom of the website and saw a flashing red icon beside a block of text. 'Here we go. Side-effects and inevitable outcomes of the spell. It says here that one of three things can happen if not all. Ok." Sam began to read out the list word-for-word. "Should more than one person be on the receiving end of the spell, it is more than likely that they will begin to compete for the subject's love. They may become hostile or homicidal and end up battling for the favour of the subject, ending up killing one or more of the affected victims in the name of love and protection. Sounds about right," said Sam. "Another outcome, which appears more frequently with lone victims, but can still occur with pairs or groups of affected people is the conclusion of their life through suicide. Some may believe that the taking of their own life may benefit their fixation in some way and therefore will act on it. Finally, most likely the affected people will end up sacrificing or murdering their fixation in an attempt to shield them from the harsh realities of life through the relief and protection of death. Naturally, this spell can only conclude in these ways and will inevitably end in death. Use with caution and at your own risk." Sam read the last part very slowly, taking it all in.
There was silence on the other end of the phone before Jody spoke. "Well... that answers my question. How do we reverse it?"
Sam was thrilled and relieved to spot a relatively simple and accessible list of ingredients or the antidote. It says you need mandrake root, the blood of a demon, hair of the affected, grave dirt, iron extract and..." he hesitated on the last one. "A wisp of angel Grace."
"All of those are attainable... right?"
Sam sighed, "In one way or another."
"Great. How can I help?"
Sam went to protest, about to say it was too dangerous but realised that some items on the list could prove easy and safe to find. "I'll send you in search of the mandrake root, grave dirt and iron extract. I'll get the rest."
"You sure I can't help more?" Jody whined.
"No," said Sam adamantly. "I can handle the rest. You've been more than enough help. I really appreciate it, Jody."
"Alright," said Jody, though her voice sounded mildly unconvinced. "I'll drop it sometime tomorrow once I've gotten all the ingredients. You take care until then."
"Thanks, Jody. I will. You, too."
With that, he hung up and set out to begin building a demonic summoning rune.
The rune hadn't taken long to make. The Men of Letters had had everything he needed right there in the bunker and within minutes, he had his captee standing before him in a Devil's Trap.
"Crowley."
"Samantha," Crowley responded evenly in his iconic British vernacular.
Sam and Crowley just stared ta each other for a few moments, each of their eyes silently defending them as they studied the other, trying to decipher any possible attacks or ulterior motives.
"I need your help," Sam finally said.
Crowley chucked, dryly and humourlessly. "Why am I not surprised." He began to pace within the trap. "You ignore me, summon me against my will, strip me of my dignity by enclosing me in one of these wretched traps and then ask me for a favour. No wonder I forget whether or not we're enemies at times." Crowley narrowed his eyes at Sam. "But, if I'm not mistaken, I recently captured and tortured your boy Kevin until the cows came home, so, I'm pretty certain that at this point in time," he looked Sam dead in the eyes, "we're enemies."
Sam half-smiled. "I like to think of us as enemies with benefits."
"Haha. Very funny," said Crowley, putting his hands in his pockets. "By the way, where's your other half? And your pet angel?"
Sam sat down with a sigh, "That's what I need your help with."
Crowley smirked, "Squirrel and Feathers found themselves in a bit of a pickle, have they?"
"We were on a hunt together a couple of days ago and they were hit with a hex bag."
The King of Hell licked his lips, "Witches, eh? I was raised by a witch. Not a fun experience-"
"Whatever," Sam said. "Point is, something and now I need your help with the antidote."
"My help? What kind of help?"
Sam averted his gaze, "Blood. Your blood."
Crowley raised his eyebrows and Sam expected him to start protesting or go on some kind of rant, but instead be just asked, "What kind of spell?"
Sam was taken aback. "That's not of import."
Crowley scoffed, "Oh, c'mon, Sam. If you're going to insist on me giving you my vital fluids, you're going to have to at least tell me what it's for."
Sam rolled his eyes and reluctantly said, "A witch cast a spell so that Dean and Castiel feel the need to protect me." Seeing Crowley's confused expression, Sam elaborated. "Apparently, with this type of spell, they could end up taking it too far and result in killing themselves or me for the greater good. So... we need to fix them."
Crowley looked like it was his birthday. "Well, I think I'll just keep my blood then."
Sam was shocked, "What?"
"Not gonna lie, Sam, I would love to see that go down." He scratched his chin, feigning contemplativeness. "Tell you what Sam, you let me out of this little trap and ring me up when Dean and Cas go all berserk and 'Lord of the Flies' on each other."
Sam reached his hand into his pocket and it protruded a demon knife. He pointed it at Crowley. "So help me God, Crowley. If you don't help me, I have no reason not to run you through with this blade," Sam threatened. "I need your blood and I'm getting it one way or another."
Crowley thought about this for a second and seemingly decided he wasn't bluffing. "Fine. But how do I know that the second I give you my blood you aren't going to dispose of me anyway?"
"I promise you, I won't," Sam said meagerly.
Crowley laughed, unconvinced, '"I'm gonna need a little bit more than that. I want it in writing."
Sam pursed his lips. "I'm good on my word."
Crowley eyed the demon blade clutched in Sam's hand and realised that that was the best he was going to get. In answer, Crowley held out his arm for Sam and Sam used the blade to open up a cut in Crowley's skin. Red hot blood poured out and Crowley winced as Sam started pinching the surrounding flesh to create a larger flow. Gathering up a flask, Sam held it under the bleeding arm and collected the fluid as it dripped. Once he had attained enough, he took one last look at Crowley before bending down and dragging the knife across the edge of the trap.
"Pleasure doing business with you," Crowley said, clutching his arm, before vanishing into the night.
Sam decided to wait until Jody came around the next day before getting the last two ingredients from Dean and Cas. This decision was somewhat based on the fact that he thought it would be wise to get a night's sleep first before doing the ritual. But he couldn't deny that it was mainly based on the fact that he was trying to prolong him inevitably having to forcibly remove Cas's Grace.
Settling into bed, he found some semblance of peace in the notion that he wouldn't be woken up to Dean and Cas vying for his attention and affection. With the promise of normalcy in mind, he drifted off to sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
Sam had been up for a couple of hours, had breakfast and taken a shower when he heard a knock at the bunker door. Opening it, he was relieved to see Jody standing there clutching a paper bag, presumably containing the missing ingredients. He beckoned her in and gestured to a table that he had set up in the middle of the war room with a large ceramic bowl and Crowley's blood perched on it.
Eyeing the blood, Jody asked, "How did you manage to get demon blood so quickly?"
Sam smirked, "I got help from a... friend."
"I see you still haven't retrieved the other two ingredients."
"I'm getting 'round to it," Sam said, fiddling with his hands.
Jody gave him a pitiful smile, "Sam, it's not them. If they were in their right frame of mind, they would want you to do this. They'll be proud of you."
Sam smiled back weakly, turning around to venture into the kitchen while he still had Jody's encouraging words fresh in his mind. Once he reached the door to where he had the two closest people in the world to him chained up, he paused, took a deep breath and heaved it open.
Once inside, he was shocked to see both Dean and Castiel slumped weakly against the floor, eyes staring vacantly in front of them and head lolled limply to the side. They both looked like they were incredibly ill as their faces were ashen and eyes bloodshot.
Walking over to Dean, whose face still looked like a mess of red and black, he wasted no time in bending down and plucking one of his light brown hairs from his head. He wrapped it in a handkerchief, looking at the floor and trying to avoid having to see the state in which he had left his brother for almost two days.
Somehow, Castiel looked even worse than Dean. Despite his angelic metabolism and lack of eating needs, he seemed to have lost weight. His face looked thin and hollow and his hair seemed to be greying at the ends. Maybe the spell had a harsher effect on angels. That only made him feel worse about what he was about to do. Reaching down, he tore a dark brown hair from Castiel's scalp and examined it before placing it alongside Dean's.
Sam furrowed his eyebrows as he reached into his pocket and fingered the Grace extractor that he had swiped from the cupboard down in the basement. Cas already looked so weak. Sam feared what would become of him should he proceed with this reckless plan. Nevertheless, he brought the extractor out into the light and rested it down against Castiel's neck. He scrunched up his face and pushed as gently as he could into Cas's skin. The angel released a pained whine and Sam felt his heart constrict.
Seeing the syringe fill to nearly halfway, he'd decided he'd got enough and retracted the needle. He momentarily placed his thumb over the hole to apply pressure, but quickly released it when he realised it had already healed. He put the device back in his pocket and went to unlock the padlock securing Cas. As soon as the lock disconnected, the chains rattled to the ground and Sam was able to heave Cas up under the armpits and drag him into the war room. Jody stopped when she saw the sight of Castiel, staring fixated as she started to resume unpacking the ingredients he brought onto the table. Sam let Castiel double over onto the map table in front of the ingredients and asked gently, "Can you stand?"
Castiel shook his head feebly and Sam bit his lip before adding, "I want you to try," he said, knowing Castiel would give it his best effort to obey Sam whilst under the spell.
Once Cas was secure enough as he was going to get- wobbling meekly against the edge of the table -Sam went back in for Dean. Despite Dean's horrifying state, he seemed to have less trouble than Castiel making his way into the war room and standing up straight.
Sam walked over tentatively to the ingredients table, eyeing Cas and Dean and positioned himself before it. Jody stood off to the side in the corner. Sam had asked her to leave before in case anything went awry, but she'd insisted on staying. After throwing all the ingredients into the bowl, Sam took a deep breath and started to chant the incantation he'd memorised online.
"Ubi quondam submissus es, nunc liber es. Esto voluntarius et immunis et ab onere tuo liberatus."
Nothing happened for a few seconds before Deana and Cas started to thrash and twitch where they stood. Cas began to emit a blood-curdling scream and Dean's vocal cords seemed to stifle and spasm as he opened his mouth in a silent wail. Smoke began to rise around the two bodies and Sam realised with horror that the smoke was from burning flesh.
All of a sudden, the sizzling stopped and so did the screaming as the two men collapsed to the floor like rag dolls. Sam rushed over, as did Jody and the two knelt before the unconscious victims concernedly. Suddenly, the two gasped almost in synchronisation, eyes widening in horror as they coughed and spluttered.
Cas immediately tried to stand up, so Sam attempted to brace him and help him over to the nearest seat. Once Cas had sat down, he reached out and put a shaking hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam shuddered and feared for a second that the reversal spell hadn't worked when Cas suddenly apologised.
"I'm so sorry, Sam." Cas's eyes darted around the room, bewildered. "I don't know what came over me."
Sam sighed, relieved. "It's nothing, Cas. Don't worry about it."
Sam turned back to his older brother, expecting the same kind of confusion and humiliation on his face, but instead saw his thick eyebrows furrowed fiercely, his expression macho and stoic. Without even looking at Sam, he waved his hand in his and Jody's general direction and said, "Good thinking. Nice work, Jody... Sam."
Turning on his heel, he marched down the end of the hallway, his footsteps echoing in the corridor, leaving Sam and Jody to stare after him in bewilderment. Sam heard the distinct sound of a door slamming and looked down solemnly and sheepishly. Dean had ignored him.
He ignored him.
A/N- Hey, guys! I hope you enjoyed. Sorry if the ending seemed a little bit rushed. I had a touch of writer's block, but knew I had to finish it because I'm going away tomorrow for a week to a place that has no internet connection. Due to this, I won't be able to post for a little bit. But, don't worry, I'll be back soon and rearing to answer your prompts. If you enjoyed this story, make sure to check out my other story, 'Slave to You.' I've only posted one chapter as I want to see what people think and whether or not I should continue. Again, I hope you enjoyed and have a great week!
