A/N: Uuurgh. Also, this has an accidental kiss…of a sort. Which I think is hilarious, and I don't like wincest at all. So…yeah.
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Advent - December 6th
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Sam gets the call just after Dean wakes up.
He's pulling on his jeans and has to scramble to answer before it switches to the answerphone.
"Yeah?" He says, fumbling to do up the zip, and then, "Yes, this is Sam Winchester. How is she?"
There's a pause and Dean watches as Sam's face falls. He sits up straighter and starts to give his full attention.
"Oh." Sam says, and his voice is small in their room, "I see. Thank you for telling me." He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.
Dean knows what's just happened.
"Is there any family?" Sam asks.
There's another, longer pause, and then Sam clicks his phone shut and sits heavily on the bed.
Dean just looks at him. Watches as Sam pushes his fingers against his closed eyes.
"She died last night." Sam says eventually. "Blood loss. They tried everything they could. Apparently."
The last comes out bitter and Dean flinches. It's bad enough that their hunts are found by following a trail of corpses. People they had failed.
But to save someone and have her die later? It's a bitter pill to swallow.
"At least her soul isn't being eaten." Dean points out.
"Yeah." Sam's jaw is clenched shut and Dean knows how he feels.
It's a hollow victory.
Dean remembers his hesitation in killing the daimon. It's that monsters fault that this girl is now dead. The fact that he paused makes him feel dirty.
He stands quickly and his head spins. Purple-eyes may have healed his back, but he hadn't done anything about the blood loss and Dean is feeling the side-effects today.
Sam looks up at Dean's sharp movements.
"I'm going for a shower." Dean says, and grabs a towel, making his way quickly to the bathroom and locking the door behind him.
The bathroom, like the rest of the apartment, is huge. It's also done up in marble and gilt. Dean doesn't know if this is a reflection on Ash's character, or just something that all Dark Hunters get, but either way he's marking someone down in his books.
As usual, Dean ignores the lavish decorations and drops his sleep clothes in a pile, kicking them over to the wall.
He turns on the water and allows it to heat up as he checks out his back in the mirror. It's healed, but scarred. The scar tissue is white, like it's been there for years. Dean hopes Bobby never sees it because he has no idea how he's going to explain this one away.
The mirror is beginning to steam up so Dean turns away from his reflection and steps under the spray in the giant walk-in shower. It's one of the one things he loves about this place. Motel showers never seem to get the pressure just right and there's always something questionable about the tub.
The water's hot and Dean presses his hands to the cool tiles, letting it run down his back. He can still feel twinges in the muscles every so often which is annoying. But not as annoying as being able to sense electricity.
It's there, a constant thrum that invades Dean's mind every waking moment, now that he knows what it is.
Dean had thought about it, seeing what Ash had given him about it. It's the ability to sense and shape electricity, that's about it. It certainly helped him deliver a five fingered death punch to the shape shifter yesterday night.
But what Sam doesn't realise is that Dean is now living in a city. A city that is practically straddled with veins of wires. And while Dean can understand older immortals getting used to the build-up of power being used by humans, Dean's just been dropped in it and feeling like his teeth are going to vibrate out his skull any waking moment is beyond distracting.
Dean sighs and stands, quickly soaping himself down and rinsing off.
He'll get used to it. He'll have too. Because, while he doesn't really like cities all that much, there's no way that he's going to go live in the wilderness to get some peace.
He switches off the water and steps out, wrapping the towel around his waist and carefully walking over to the sink. The marble floor was a design flaw.
Dean grabs his toothbrush and starts to clean his teeth, being mindful of his new fangs. And any day he's going to start panicking about that too.
Done, he spits then straightens, wiping the mirror down.
Sandy's standing behind him.
Dean lets out a yell and spins round. He does it too fast, however, and his feet slip out from under him on the wet floor.
The last thing he sees is Sandy looking guilty before the back of his head connects with the sink and the rest is blackness.
###
Sam's washing up at the kitchen sink when he notes Dean walk into the kitchen.
"Good shower?" He asks with a smirk because, damn it, the world may be going to hell, but he can still tease his brother, "You were in there for a while."
He doesn't think anything of Dean not answering. Too caught up in planning what to do with the rest of the evening and if he should really bring charges down on Sanctuary. He knows were-hunters can modify memories so it'll be hard, but surely someone would have gotten phone footage of some kind.
He does, however, notice when Dean presses himself against Sam's back and wraps his arms around Sam's waist.
Sam freezes.
Is Dean initiating a hug?
What the fuck.
Sam peers over his shoulder to see Dean wearing the most blissful expression ever on his face.
It is the creepiest thing Sam has ever seen. Even creepier because Dean's wearing it while holding onto Sam.
"Uh…Dean?" Sam asks, and restrains from smashing the mug he's been cleaning onto Dean's head.
"Mmmm…" Dean says, and snuggles in closer.
Okay. That just sent Sam's weirdness meter off the charts. No way is he ever going to be able to forget this.
Sam jerks out of Dean's hold and twists so his back isn't anywhere near him. He brandishes the mug as if it can keep Dean away. Seeing as it's the same mug as the one Dean ran from before, Sam figures he's got a fifty-fifty chance.
Dean actually looks hurt.
"What the hell, man?" Sam asks. His back feels itchy now. Like there are ants crawling under his skin and oh god this is why Dean never wants to do chick-flick moments. All these years Sam thought he was emotionally stunted when it turns out Dean was just saving him from a lifetime of mental scarring.
"I'm sorry," Dean pouts and then claps his hand over his mouth in surprise.
Sam can only stare at him.
"Wow," Dean says, blink a few times, "my voice is really low."
"Dean?" Sam tries again and then, because his question still hasn't been answered, "What the hell, man?"
Dean pokes his stomach and that's when Sam realises that Dean's only wearing a towel. "I have great abs though." He hums happily and runs his fingers over them.
Sam would like to go home now.
Then Sam notices a trickle of blood running down Dean's neck.
"Dean," Sam says, "did you hit your head?"
A head wound would explain the weird behaviour. Sam puts the mug down on the bench and walks over to Dean, hoping to get a closer look.
It was a Bad Idea.
As soon as Sam's close enough, Dean pounces. Dean's arms wrap around Sam's waist and push him off balance. They stagger into the table and Sam trips over a chair, sending the both to the ground.
Sam winces and opens his eyes to find Dean still wrapped around him, lying on top of Sam. Dean has his chin resting on Sam's chest and is staring at him.
Then Sam notices that Dean's towel has come loose somewhere in the kerfuffle and his brother is naked and on top of him.
Sam is now, officially scarred for life. There is no way this can get any worse.
"Whoops!" Dean says, and the only way Sam can describe it is perkily.
Dean is perky.
Perky.
"Dean." Sam says, taking a deep breath, but whether that's to hold in a scream of horror or to stop himself beating the unholy hell out of his brother, Sam doesn't know.
"Stronger than I thought!" Dean says, and grins happily at Sam.
Sam sighs and prepares to lock this memory away in a big metal box that he will never, ever open again. Once that's done he figures that he might as well check Dean's head injury now and run's his fingers through Dean's hair, seeing if he can find a bump or a gash or something.
"What are you doing?" Dean asks, his voice drowsy.
And Sam never in his life wanted to know that running his hands through his brother's hair made Dean sleepy. Ever.
"I'm checking for injuries."
Dean smiles beatifically at him. "My hero."
Sam chokes and stills, his eyes widening. He stares at Dean who's looking back at him.
It's a stupid thought. A horrible thought that is so not true and when Sam says anything then Dean's going to punch him. But he can't not say anything either because passages from the handbook are running through his head.
He licks his lips.
"Sandy?"
Dean grins brightly. "Hi Sam!"
"Oh, hey." Sam says, horrified.
Then Dean kisses him and Sam feels something poking him in the thigh.
Sam was wrong. Things got a lot worse very, very fast.
###
Sam's making sure that he's sitting on the opposite side of the table to Dean – Sandy – Dean. Seriously, he's gotta figure out how to refer to Dean, Sandy damn it, now.
"So now do you understand why I punched you in the face?"
Dean, Sandy, pouts and presses the icepack firmly against his, her, cheek. He, she, is wearing clothes now that Sam brought through and made him, her, put on.
"You didn't have to." Possessed Dean mumbles, eyes downcast to the table top.
Crap. Now Sam feels bad. Like he's punched a girl in the face, which…technically…
He clears his throat. "You made me kiss my brother." He says. Like it should explain and excuse all punching. Which it totally did, thank you very much.
Sandy-Dean looks up and there are tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Sam." S-he says. "I didn't know he was your brother, I just though…"
S-he trails off with an embarrassed squirming.
Sam locks this memory away in his big metal box too.
"What?" He asks. Because he's curious and damn it! This is what always gets him into trouble.
SanDean looks up, "Well, no one really turns me down," S-he says at last, "so when you did I thought you might be gay."
Sam grimaces.
"And then, when I…yeah…well, I came here, because you were there and you helped me and I saw you were living with this guy and that you might…er…you know, with him."
Sam's grimace gets worse.
"I was only going to watch!" S-he protests, "While I was…um…in his body so I could feel everything…but then he slipped and knocked himself out and I didn't want to wait until he woke up to see you again.
"I didn't think he was your brother. I just thought that I'd get a jump start on the whole…thing."
Sam wants to cry.
Now.
Please.
Sam presses his fingers against his eyes and tries not to scream out loud. It's working, but only just. The voice in his head is screaming and crying pretty loudly anyway.
"Okay," he says and nods, "okay. Just, er…you know that isn't going to happen right?"
SanDean sighs and props her chin in her hand. "Too kinky for you?"
"Yes." Sam says after a moment of consolation for his inner voice, "Too kinky.
"Way, way too…just, no."
SanDean grins at him. "Too bad."
There's an awkward pause.
"Well," Sam says after a moment, "It was nice…er…seeing you again. Um, thanks for visiting but could you please get out of my brother now?"
SanDean blinks and then looks sheepish. "Ah, sorry!" S-he says and then pulls a really weird face.
Seriously, after everything that has just happened, Sam shouldn't find this face creepy at all. But he does, and it is, and he pulls back away from the table a little bit.
"Um…" He says after a moment where SanDean's expression hasn't changed.
It's really starting to remind Sam of a kid who's trying to poop his pants. Dean's face is going red. It's all very alarming.
Dean relaxes and then opens his eyes.
"Dean?" Sam says cautiously.
"Ah," Sandy says, "little bit of a problem there."
Sam sighs. He'd been worried about this. The handbook did warn them.
"You can't get out, can you." Sam says, deadpan. He doesn't even need to ask.
SanDean looks sheepish. "Sorry!"
Great.
This is just…great. Sam's going to have to try all sorts of crap now.
"Maybe when Dean wakes up I'll just be pushed out?" Sandy tries hopefully.
"Well, it's worth a shot at least." Sam concedes and scratches the back of his head.
There's another silence.
"So," Sam says, because now he's curious, "where is Dean?"
SanDean grimaces and Sandy says, "I dunno, I can't feel him at all. I think he's still unconscious. He hit his head pretty hard."
Sam sighs. Of course Dean did. He rolls his eyes. He's probably got ages to wait for Dean to wake up too.
"So…um. Wanna watch some TV?"
###
Dean wakes up halfway through a program on sharks.
This isn't the bathroom.
"Dude, what?"
Sam looks at him. "Dean?" he asks cautiously.
Dean looks at him weirdly, "Who do you think it would be? I'm the only one in here."
"You'd be surprised." Sam says.
What the fuck? Dean thinks.
Hi, Dean!
Dean flinches at the voice and clutches at his head with wide eyes.
"What the fuck!"
Sam turns back to the TV, bored. "Sandy." He says, like it should explain everything. "Guess you didn't get pushed out then."
Um, no, sorry.
Dean blinks. Then, because he's not sure if he's supposed to say it or not, he says, "Er…she said, 'no, sorry.'"
Sam nods and turns off the TV with the remote. "Okay, it was a thin hope anyway but I thought I'd try it. Go for the relatively painless option first."
"Sam." Dean says slowly, "Why have I got a girl in my head?"
Sam snorts and ignores Dean, picking up a book from the pile of books on the coffee table. "Right, let's try and exorcism, shall we?"
Woo! This is so cool! Dean hears in his head. Is there going to be a light do you think? I thought there'd be a light before, but there wasn't. Just the hospital. I woke up hovering in the empty room you know? There was a weird creature there with wings and I was scared and then I remembered that Sam saved me last time so I went to find him and did! Because I'm an awesome tracker like that!
Oh, dear God. Dean thinks clutching his head, Make it stop.
###
The exorcisms don't work.
Sam's tried every single one he can find any reference of. He's even gotten so desperate that he's gone looking on the internet.
Nope. Nada. Zilch.
Sam's getting kinda desperate now. Sam's not sure that salting and burning Sandy's body is going to get rid of her. Sandy seems pretty attached to Dean and Sam doesn't think killing Dean is a good enough option to get her out either. Actually, it's pretty much not an option. At all.
Besides, the hospital still has her body and they can't just steal it. Not from there. It's one thing to dig up a coffin; it's another entirely to steal a fresh body from the morgue.
If Bobby or Ash don't have any ideas then they're just going to have to wait until Sandy's buried and then do the salting and burning then. That is, if her family don't claim her body and take it away who knows where. Because then Sam will have to follow after them and leave Dean all alone to cope by himself and just look at what happened the last time Sam did that.
…Sandy isn't so bad anyway…
Sam glances over to Dean.
Dean's looking like he has the biggest headache of his life.
He's sitting on the sofa, clutching his head and murmuring "Make it stop, make it stop." And rocking back and forth a little.
Sam doesn't want to know what that's about.
"Um," he interrupts Dean and Dean looks at him with crazy eyes. Same takes a step back and points to his phone. "I'm going to call Bobby to see why these aren't working."
Dean nods and goes back to his rocking.
Sam backs away slowly until he's in the kitchen. He closes the door so he knows Dean won't overhear him and phones Bobby.
"What?"
Sam grins at the gruff tone. God, he's missed Bobby, "Hey Bobby."
"Sam." Bobby says, and there's a shuffling noise, "What's happened now?" Bobby sounds resigned.
"Um…" Sam says, feeling suddenly like he's a teenager again caught doing something stupid. "Dean's got possessed by a ghost and now it's stuck in his head."
There's a silence and then Bobby says, "You wanna say that again?"
"Dean," Sam winces, "Dean got possessed by a ghost. And we can't get it out of him. I've tried all the exorcisms I can think of."
Bobby snorts. "Exorcisms only work on possessing demons." He says.
Sam has been afraid of that.
"If you wanna get rid of a ghost you have to salt and burn, you know that."
Sam does. It's just that he also knows that salting and burning is kind of a one-time deal. And he's not even sure if that'll get rid of Sandy or if it'll just trap her in Dean forever.
"Yeah," Sam says, "I was worried you say that."
"Why?" Bobby's voice is sharp, "Is there a problem getting the body?"
Sam rubs at his eyebrow, "No, everything's under control. I just thought I'd try this way first. Thanks, Bobby."
"Well, okay then." Bobby still sounds suspicious, "But I want a call when this is all over with all the details."
Sam nods, then realises that Bobby can't see him. "Yeah, okay. I'll call you when everything's done. Thanks again, Bobby."
Sam hangs up and stares at his phone. He glances to the door and then presses number three on his speed-dial.
"Sam." Ash's voice sounds tired.
"Uh, hey Ash." Sam winces, "Um, I have a question for you."
"No, I will not take you to see Atlantis."
Sam clears his throat. "Uh, no. It's not about that…"
There's a pause and then Ash says, "Then what is it?" He sounds curious.
"Um…" Sam stalls, "Say, hypothetically, that Dean…got possessed by a ghost."
"…right?" The word is drawn out.
"Is there any super-secret and easy way to get said hypothetical ghost out of Dean without destroying the hypothetical ghost."
"Sam." Ash says, "Is there a ghost possessing Dean?"
"No, no!" Sam laughs and it comes out strained. "Why would you think that?"
There's a pause that says, I don't believe you.
"If Dean wants to get rid of the hypothetical ghost then he's got to kill himself to free it. Or he's gotta learn how to live with it until it gets too weak to bother him anymore."
Sam grimaces. Fuck.
"Right," he says, "right. Thanks."
"Sam," Ash says, "is there something you want to tell me?"
"Not really! Thanks for clearing that up! Bye!"
Sam hangs up before he can dig himself in it any deeper and face palms.
They are so screwed.
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P.S. Any and all Wincest was for the purposes of entertainment. Mostly mine. There is no more Wincest ever. Ever, ever.