Pure

Here is the last chapter. I'd appreciate if you can drop a review and let me know what you think.

And again, special thanks to OnlyWishedYouKnew for her valuable contributions.

6- Gimme Shelter*

Sam was vomiting his insides out. The retched pain inside him was unbearable. Dean was trying to hold him steady since Sam's body was going through a strong, everlasting seizure and he was not necessarily keeping his mouth downward to safely spew the contents of his stomach. It's been over 15 minutes now and he kept throwing up, constantly. The floor was covered with the red goo he was spitting out and more was still coming. Dean, without knowing what else to do, tried to keep his brother steady and prevent him choking on his own vomit.

After half an hour of constant struggle, finally it was over. Sam was lying unconscious in the pool of red goo. Dean got up, put his jeans and shirt on and opened the door to let Bobby in. Bobby had run down when he first heard Sam shrieking with agony, but could not enter the locked room. Dean had kept the door locked after first day of the treatment. And Bobby never had the courage to ask why.

"What the hell happened here?" Bobby asked looking at half-naked, passed out Sam.

"Help me lift him, Bobby." Dean was tired beyond measure; he could not carry his brother alone right now, hardly carrying himself. After laying Sam down to the bed, he collapsed next to him, lying; the horrid pain in his ass was not going to let him sit for a while.

"Son, what happened?" Bobby demanded an answer.

"I don't know Bobby. I just can't… I'm tired Bobby, exhausted really." And that was the truth. He could sleep for a week. And what else was he supposed to say? "My brother raped me like a mofu and thanks to his golden heart, he made me come too. But I guess you are not supposed to drink the sperm of a person as a side dish to his blood…he threw up every fucking drop he sucked during last week." Of course not! "I'll call the priestess for some answers when I got some rest, OK." And not being able to wait for an answer sunk into a very deep sleep.

xxx

Sam woke up with an awful taste in his mouth. His stomach was growling and he was damn thirsty. When he tried to get up, realized Dean was sleeping next to him. And suddenly the memory of their last hour poured into his mind. He jumped to his feet, could not bring himself to believe that the memories were real. He looked around the mess they were in; someone -probably Bobby- had tried to clean up; but the room needed to be cleansed with quicklime at the very least. Sam turned his gaze to Dean; his brother's face was so pale… They were real! He really had done those horrible things! He could see the scar covered arms of his brother; also the mark of his tight hands right over the wrists. An ugly purple was encircling the hands that always held Sam with tenderness. And Sam knew he had inflicted many more scars, deeper scars, invisible scars.

He could read Dean's pain on his sleeping face; his sleep was way far from being peaceful. The traces of dried tears on his cheeks smashed Sam's heart into million pieces. Dean's grievous pleadings filled his ears again. His brother, who had always took care of him, protected him, fuck! he had gone to hell for him… he had kept begging for him to stop, to stop torturing him, to stop raping him. But Sam had not stopped, he had enjoyed the pleas both loud and silent, he had enjoyed Dean's suffering, his tears!

Sam started to cry… his guilt was like big, barbed lump in his throat, like a heavy, fiery burden on his shoulder. He could not keep standing, collapsed to his knees next to his brother, and prayed. Prayed for Dean… Prayed to Dean… Prayed for absolution.

"Sam?" Dean was awake. There was a hint of fear in his voice, but it was full of compassion as always.

"Oh Dean… I… I can't even ask for forgiveness…"

"Are you in pain again? You lost all the blood..." asked Dean like nothing had happened.

"I wish I was… I wish I was in such an agony that… that…" Sam could not continue. He grabbed his older brother's hands, buried his face in them and kissed them franticly while his tears kept pouring down nonstop. He could have stayed in this position forever –which probably how long it would take for Dean's scars to be healed- but Bobby entered the room and cut his repentance.

"Sam? Boy, are you OK?" Bobby lifted him up and hugged him tight and secure; not caring the filth on him. "You scared us to death!"

"I… I'm OK. Bobby." Sam released himself from the old man's hug. He was not feeling worthy of any kind of affection right now.

"I think you lost too much of the… the treatment. Are you sure you feel alright. No pain?"

"No… I'm good." Sam could not even look at Bobby's face. He knew Bobby had no idea what he had done to his older brother. He knew Dean would never tell anyone, and not because of his shame but to protect Sam.

Bobby sensed the oddity in the air. But he did not want to dwell on it. Sam was finally up and that was enough for Bobby.

"How you doing Dean?" He asked the silent figure.

"I had better days Bobby."

"There is breakfast on the kitchen table."

"I think I'll pass for now." Dean was tired. And his appetite was not available at the moment.

"Come on Dean. You need to eat to gather your strength boy." Bobby was not going to let him easy. Sam intervened:

"Let me bring it here. Dean is tired." And he fled the room, without giving any chance for Bobby or Dean to stop him.

"So…" Bobby sat down next to Dean. "When are we celebrating?"

Dean only gave him the curious look, raising an eyebrow.

"Your brother is up and around." the older man explained, surprised at the need for an explanation.

"We don't know it yet. For all I know, he might go through another puking frenzy." Explained Dean and added with almost visible distress in his voice, "By the way, I don't think we should let him roam free in the house just yet."

"Aren't you a glass half full?" Bobby rolled his eyes. He knew there was a chance, but hell no! He was not going to let the possibilities darken his mood. Sam was awake, looked healthy, not in pain. He was going to enjoy it as long it lasts. But it didn't mean he was not going to be more careful. He could be both; happy and careful.

Sam entered the room with the over-easy egg, sausages and bacon. He gave the food to his brother but made sure he did not touch him; could not bear to see his brother flinching at his touch. Sam watched him eating. It was not like Dean at all; the small bites, the long chewing, leaving most of the food in his plate…

"Oh aren't you two party animals! What is it with you boys? You behave like we have a funeral to attend."

"I am sorry Bobby. You are right. I just… don't feel like celebrating after all I put you guys through." Sam said with all his honesty. He preferred to be in a dungeon right now; tortured by demons... away from the people he loved and hurt so deeply.

xxx

Sam could see the pain his brother going through with the every step he took. Dean tried to hide it, and he could hide his feelings alright; only not from Sam. And after all the memories they had shared, now Sam could read Dean like an open book; could see the pain, the grief, the heavy burden of betrayal crashing his heart. But he could not do anything to help his brother. After the initial apology Sam had given him right after they had woken up, they did not talk about 'it'. Sam could not bring himself to even slightly indicate what he had done. He was terrified to see the heartbreaking look on his brother's face. And Dean, being Dean, was not going to come close to the subject before hell freezes.

It had been 2 days since the last treatment and the intensive vomiting; but the pain had not visited Sam yet. He was not longing for blood anymore, only for regular food. His excessive lust was over too. No more dreaming up how to fuck his older brother either. But the memories of Dean's past were still with him. His sleep was still infested with Dean… some happy dreams like Dean with Megan Fox; but mostly nightmares, Dean with dad or worse, Dean with himself.

He remembered everything he had done to his brother, down to the smallest detail. No wonder Dean had never mentioned anything about him and dad. When Sam finally had learnt about his brother's abused childhood, look what he had done. He learnt the horror Dean went through night after night when he was growing up, the pain, the shame, the loneliness… and he shamelessly used this knowledge to manipulate his brother's terror for his sick desires… and that was a whole new level of low.

Sam knew the reason behind 'him being a raging bull' during the treatment. Bobby had told him about the virginity deal; he had to explain why Sam cannot leave the house -or the panic room in that matter- till the priestess gave him OK. But knowing the reason was not giving any comfort to Sam. He knew what he had done. He knew the damage he had caused and there was nothing he could do to change it. There was no excuse which could make Sam feel any better; he did not deserve to feel any better. And there was no way he would put the blame on his brother's blood for raping him for god's sake. The least he could do was, for once, to take the responsibility of his actions.

xxx

Sam woke up to a strange feeling of being watched and saw Dean was sitting next to him. Afraid of making any sounds, afraid of scaring his brother away, he carefully searched for his eyes... to check whether it would be possible to catch his gaze, just for once. His brother did not turn his eyes away; first time since Sam's last transgression against him. He did not do anything; he kept watching Sam. After a while Sam felt he had to be the one breaking the silence.

"Dean?"

"Yes, Sammy."

He called him Sammy? He looked at his eyes and also called him Sammy. It was a good sign. It was freaking great! Sam felt the incredible rejoice filling his heart by hearing his brother's husky voice calling his nickname.

"Everything alright?" Sam's voice was cracking up.

"Yes."

They kept staring at each other for a while, no word, no movement. After a while, Dean lifted his hand and placed it on his little brother's forehead. For a moment he kept his hand right there without moving it, and then slowly caressed the hair. Sam gulped back a huge sob, was so ready to cry.

"I… I just needed to see you." Dean said.

Sam rose swiftly and hugged his brother tight, real tight… he wanted to show him he was there when Dean needed him, to show that he was never, ever going to let him go. Not that there was anywhere else Dean could go. Even after everything he had done to his brother, Dean still came back to him. There was no one else who could comfort him or ease his pain, no one else. They had no one else… only each other.

"I'm so sorry Dean." Sam summoned all his courage and managed to speak between his silent sobs. "I know it's not gonna make it any better after what I've done… but I just want you to know… I'd prefer to be…"

"Shush…" Dean silenced him pressing his finger over Sam's lips. "I don't wanna talk about it. Actually, I don't wanna talk at all, Sammy. I just need…"

And Sam knew what his brother needed. He hugged him between his long arms and pulled him down next to him, turned him to his side and spooned him tight. The same position Dean had held him since Sam could remember, after every nightmare, every bad day, every misfortune they had been through… Dean placed his head on his brother's wide arm and turned himself to a tight ball; let Sam's arms cover him completely; let himself lost in his hug. Sam placed a kiss to his brother's head and murmured the very same words he had heard from him over and over, all his life:

"It's OK, Dean; I got you… I'm here... I'm not going to leave you, Dean… I promise…"

The End

* 1st track in Rolling Stones 1969 album, Let it bleed