Summary: Withdrawn after an assault, pediatrician Dean is visited by handsome therapist Sam, a man with two shocking secrets. AU Sam/Dean slash romance. Warning: implied Alastair/Dean noncon
Conjugal Glue (Part 12: The Flashback) by frostygossamer
When they finally had to leave the hospital for the night, Dean took Sam home to the penthouse. Since Dean still had a key, he and Anna had been staying there during the last few weeks of her pregnancy, and it had started to feel like home again.
Dean got ready for bed while Sam, still tired and aching from his lengthy plane journey, took a very long, hot shower. Dean got into the bed and pulled the comforter up under his chin. He smiled at the comfiness of the familiar bed. Recently, he had been using the couch.
Sam came out of the bathroom with only a towel slung around his hips. He adjusted the lights to dim.
"You getting cosy in there, babe?" he asked.
"Snug as a freakin' bug," Dean agreed.
Sam pulled off his towel and used it to rub dry his floppy hair. Dean had to admire this image of a young Greek god before him. Man, that guy was gorgeous. But... Dean was still a little mad at him.
"Put something on if you're gonna sleep with me," he insisted.
Sam looked down at himself and shrugged. "Sure, babe."
With his towel around his shoulders, he rummaged in a drawer for a pair of thin cotton pajama pants which he slipped on. Then he threw the towel on a chair and joined Dean in the bed.
"Mmm," Sam purred. "You're wearing the sexy bunny PJs."
"They're supposed to be saying 'Hands off'," Dean pointed out.
"Then they're not working too good," Sam pouted. "But OK, if that's how you feel I totally get it."
"Sam," Dean began, leaning up on one elbow. "Don't think you're gonna walk straight back into this relationship like nothing happened. Still haven't forgiven you, man. You weren't straight with me, and that hurt."
"Never meant to hurt you, babe," Sam insisted. "Wouldn't do that to you."
"Well, you did, douchebag," Dean retorted. "Made me think all I was to you was some lame piece of ass to pass around. That was cold. Came damn close to ending it right there."
"Dean!" Sam gasped, eyes growing wide.
"Didn't end it over that fuck Alastair," Dean grumbled. "Wasn't the hell gonna do it over your worthless ass."
Sam grabbed him and rolled them both over so he was staring down into Dean's surprised face.
"I swear," he growled, "on my life, that I'm never gonna lie or keep shit from you, Dean. Never again."
"Wanna believe that," Dean grunted, unconvinced.
Sam let go of him and sat up abruptly.
"There's something you oughta know," he said.
~0~
Flashback...
Alastair stepped down from the prisoner transport parked behind the courthouse in Jackson, Miss. with a self-satisfied smirk flickering across his lips. Inside his pocket he fingered the slip of paper that had been thrust into his hand by a fake paparazzo.
It was a message from his dumb but stupidly loyal ex-wife. A break had been arranged. She had set it up, and this time she was sure it would be foolproof. All he had to do was disable his FBI escort. Should be a cool breeze.
They sat on a bench in the corridor outside the court waiting for their fifteen minutes of justice. The Fed, Henricksen, was twitchy and overstrung. He kept on checking his watch. He badly needed a smoke. Alastair bided his time. At five of the hour he made his move.
"Need the can," he declared abruptly.
Henricksen shook his head. "Hold it," he snapped.
"Don't bother me none. Do it right here," Alastair asserted, dragging the Fed's hand over to tug at his zipper.
"OK. OK," Henricksen agreed. "Restroom. Two minutes."
They walked to the nearest men's comfort station. Henricksen unholstered his sidearm and checked under each of the cubicle doors before relaxing and reholstering.
"Alright. Make it fast," he insisted.
Alastair raised their cuffed hands and jangled the chain.
"Gonna unlock 'em?" he asked with a smirk.
Henricksen debated for one second, and Alastair took advantage of his hesitation by suddenly spinning and twisting their joined arms up and around the Fed's neck. He tightened his hold as Henricksen struggled, until the black guy choked and passed out, crashing insensible to the bathroom floor.
Alastair cackled and, crouching on the tiles, he began to rummage with his free hand through the unconscious man's jacket pockets for his handcuff keys.
Crunch! The full weight of a heavy boot smashed down on Alastair's hand, still stuck inside Henricksen's pocket. He glanced up wildly and his gaze lighted on a grim face.
Sam stared coldly down at the puzzled convict. He leaned forward and snagged Henricksen's sidearm from his holster with a gloved hand.
"My ex send you?" Alastair asked uncertainly.
"Your ex?" Sam repeated. "I'm here to do your ex one big goddamn favour, bud."
Alastair relaxed a little and slumped down on the floor.
"Great," he sneered.
Sam chuckled as he checked the FBI firearm absently, fixing a silencer.
"Today's your lucky day, dude," he growled. "Today's the day you repent of your sins."
Baffled, Alastair showed his teeth nervously.
"Gotta get a move on. Gonna be missed soon," he stuttered.
"Oh, there's plenty time," Sam grunted, and stepping back he pointed the gun at Alastair's head. "Only takes one goddamn second."
Alastair crossed his hands in front of his face, Henricksen's arm hanging limply.
"No," he cried. "My ex... This was gonna be a break out. She sent you."
"Not exactly," Sam corrected him. "Not why I'm here. Got me a different agenda, bud."
"Then why?" Alastair demanded angrily. "Why you here? That bitch pay you to take me out? She's gonna..."
"Oh, this gig's for free, bud," Sam informed him. "This gig's payback."
"Payback?" Alastair repeated. "What the fuck! Payback for what?"
"Payback for the stupidest, brainsick damn thing you done in your goddamn worthless existence," Sam snarled. "Payback for a certain saint of a doctor you defiled."
Alastair ground his teeth in a contemptuous grimace.
"Dr. freakin' Sexy! Little ass pussy was asking for it. You some kinda goddamn Angel of Retribution, huh?"
"Yeah, that's right," Sam agreed darkly. "And now it's Judgement Day on your ass."
"Want me to say I'm sorry, mister?" Alastair whined.
"Hell no," Sam retorted. "I want you to SCREAM you're sorry!"
He placed the first two shots in the prisoner's kneecaps. Doof! Doof!
Alastair's pupils dilated with fear and agony. "No! NO!" he yelped.
"Now for the fun part," Sam smirked.
With that he put a bullet right in the guy's junk. The slug hit soft, wet flesh almost without a sound. Alastair screamed in torment and clutched at the gory mess, as life's blood streamed out from between his legs.
"Bastard!" he gasped voicelessly, writhing on the floor. "Aaaaaaaaa-argh!"
"In the next life," Sam remarked grimly. "Try not to have violated anyone belonging to an ex professional assassin."
The final shot between the eyes took Alastair's last despicable breath. Sam removed the silencer from Henricksen's weapon and dropped the gun on the floor beside the unconscious agent.
Then he was gone.
No one even noticed the nondescript, hunched-up janitor who emerged from the restroom and evaporated into the crowd.
...End of flashback
~0~
Dean exhaled loudly. "The hell!" he gasped, reeling in disbelief.
"And I got back here and found out you'd ODed after you saw the damn report on the TV. God, my heart stopped." Sam recalled.
"S-Sam," Dean stuttered, his face in his hands. "That was YOU? Hell, tried to call you and all the time you were in Jackson hitting that shit? Fuck!"
"Guess you didn't put two and two together cos you were in shock. Couldn't tell you about it, Dean," Sam whispered. "Didn't know how you'd take it. Was scared you wouldn't be able to look at me again, knowing what I done, in cold blood. This wasn't some paid hit. Nothing like what I done before. It was revenge, pure and simple. Did it for you, babe. Owed it to you."
He leaned over and pulled Dean's hands off of his face, so he could stare into his eyes.
"Can we get past this, Dean?" he asked softly. "Can you let it go? Or is it too much?"
Dean shook his head, overcome.
"You have got to be kidding me!" he gasped. "You have got to be freakin' kidding me!"
"Please, babe..." Sam began.
Dean punched him in the arm, hard.
"You stupid bastard," he said, full of emotion. "Sure it's OK. Hell, it's the best thing I ever heard," and he laughed. "You're my freakin' Batman, Sam, Dark freakin' Knight. Knew there was some goddamn reason I fell in love with you, you son of a bitch."
Enormous relief filled Sam's heart, as he let Dean take him in his arms and hold him tight. He hadn't ruined his one chance after all.
Dean loved him.
Dean pushed Sam down on the bed and lay on top of him for a moment, grinning insanely, then his grin vanished and he planted a kiss on Sam's mouth.
"There," he said. "Guess I'm letting you off this time. Can't bitch about news feels like the best damn birthday present ever."
"You're really cool with this?" Sam asked, still unsure.
"Probably crazy but yeah, Sam," Dean assured him. "In fact, I'm gonna let you unwrap THIS present right now. Cos you got my heart beating like a jackhammer."
He grabbed Sam's hand and pushed it up inside his PJ jacket, where Sam could feel his heart beat.
"Dean, babe," he gasped, and rolled Dean onto his side, pressing his half-naked body up close to Dean's back.
Sam rubbed up against Dean's cotton-clad butt. Dean chuckled as he felt Sam run a hopeful finger inside the waistband of his PJ bottoms.
"Guess the bunnies were a total fail as a turn off," he snickered.
Sam hummed his agreement into the nape of Dean's neck, as he gently tugged down their pants. Sam was always gentle with Dean. He knew he had to go slow and take care not to awaken memories of the bad times and the pain his lover had been through. That was what it meant to love someone and Dean was grateful.
"Been a long time," Dean murmured. "Missed the feel of you."
"Too long," Sam murmured back. "Reckoned... reckoned I'd lost you, babe. Tore out my heart. Never, never put our love on the line again," and he pulled Dean against his chest, tighter, deeper.
"Awesome, Sammy," Dean purred, as Sam stimulated that deliciously familiar buzz to flood his body.
Dean knew he only felt alive when his Sam was with him. And, to tell the truth, he could have forgiven him almost anything, when he had him here in his bed.
Anything.
TBC
A/N: Of course Dean had to be the last person on earth who didn't know. :) Two last chapters coming soon.