Disclaimer: Not mine

Chapter 4

Sam sat at the desk, reading the journal of John Winchester. They'd been at the motel a week and Sam knew they needed to move soon, head for Jess' place where they'd be safe. It was strange, he could remember his life before Stanford now, helped by reading the journal but…it was like looking at a video, he remembered events but felt nothing. He understood they were his memories, what else could they be? But he wasn't that person anymore. He wasn't a hunter, he was a witch and he wouldn't change that even if he could. John had kept his magic supressed all his life with the wards he used everywhere they stayed. He had loved Jess, it hurt to have her gone, but a part of him recognised she had used him, had altered his very mind, syphoned his magic…but she had been his world. She had shown him a world where hunters were the monsters and it felt right. John Winchester was a Monster, for the way he had treated them, raised them, and everything he had killed, including witches.

Dean…Dean had done monstrous things, but he hadn't known any better, it was how he had been raised. He understood now how wrong his actions had been, that he needed someone to keep him under control. But had there been another way? he could remember how Dean had been before, the womanising, credit card scams, drinking and unhealthy eating…he was lucky to have lived so long. Now Sam would protect him, ensure his good health and Dean would never look at another without Sam's permission. In the last week the broken bond to Jess had severely affected Dean. Several days Dean would kneel on the floor, head bowed, utterly submissive and having to be ordered to so much as twitch. They tended to spend a lot of time on those days in bed, Sam couldn't resist Dean when he was like that. Other days Dean showed more initiative, would call him Sammy, even meet his eyes and speak without being told to. Those days were enjoyable in a different way, tugging at his heart in a way he didn't fully understand. There was no way to tell how Dean would be day to day, but Sam didn't mind.

He picked up Jess' grimoire and flipped through it to the end and paused, reading down the ingredient list, curious as to what she had been working on, this wasn't the immortality spell they had already taken the first steps towards, that was earlier in the book. It was… oh… it was an immortality spell, but not for a witch, no, this was for a normal human. This was for Dean. She had understood that he was their forever even before they had returned from their search for John. She had been good at that, anticipating what they would need before they did. Some of the ingredients would be considered morally wrong to collect but that would not stop him, he would keep Dean with him. He would collect them on the way to Jess' place in the Rockies and then make the potion and spell there where there would be no interruptions and he would complete the one he would have shared with her as well, just to be safe.

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Dean woke slowly, feeling safe and he knew Sam was holding him, so he just borrowed closer only to feel Sam chuckle.

"Morning Dean," Sam murmured, kissing his temple and Dean opened his eyes, green meeting hazel and Dean smiled sleepily.

"Morning Sammy," he whispered.

"How do you feel?" Sam asked, and Dean chewed his lip, so Sam gently put his finger in the way to stop him.

"Safe," Dean answered, there was so much more to it, but he couldn't put it into words. He could always feel Sammy, feel his power inside him and it just felt right, it helped the pain were Mistress had once been.

"We're leaving today Dean, we've stayed too long, understand?"

"Yes Sammy," they always moved on, it was never safe to stay as a hunter, so he was used to it.

Sam slowly disentangled them and sat up, stretching, and Dean couldn't help watching. He remembered when he had first met Mistress, saying she was out of his league, but he'd been wrong. Sammy had been out of her league, but they had chosen each other and then chosen to save him. He'd barely had any time with Mistress, but he knew that his life with both of them would have been so much better than his life before. If someone appeared and offered his old life back he would refuse, he'd never be yelled at again or told to do better, not have enough food…why did people want to be free? He was a slave, he knew he was, but being owned was true freedom. He knew he would never do anything wrong, Sammy would ensure it. He had no worries anymore. He shivered as Sammy's magic wrapped around him, forming his clothes and Dean gently touched the one piece that was never removed, his collar. Having it pressed against his throat felt so good, a physical reminder of what he was, who he belonged to. It was metal, but it never felt cold or restrictive, there were words etched in it, showing who owned him.

Sam packed up what they had and led Dean to the car. "Wait here," he ordered, and Dean got in the passenger seat, eyes wandering over the car. This had been the family car, John had given it to him when he learned how to drive, now it was for Sammy. Sam got in the driver's seat and headed east. They stopped at a motel late that night and Dean offered himself to Sammy who gladly accepted, taking care of him. They fell asleep after, both tired from the day of driving. The next morning found Dean silent, waiting for orders. "Take a shower and use the bathroom Dean, then come out here for breakfast."

"Yes Master," Dean got up and went to the bathroom to follow the orders he'd been given. He cleaned up and left the bathroom to kneel beside the small table where Master sat, being fed from his hand, something he didn't deserve.

As they travelled east Sam occasionally left Dean alone in order to gather what the spells needed, feeling no guilt as he slit the throat of a hunted to collect his blood. He was killing a monster to ensure Dean's immortality. Even once Dean was having a less mindless day he didn't argue about staying in the car.

By the time they reached the cabin he had everything he needed. He sent Dean inside to put the bags away and then walked the ward lines, increasing them until they were impenetrable, before joining Dean inside. He cooked dinner and then spent the evening memorising the spells and preparing the potions. He underwent the ritual that night, feeling the power as it burnt through him, removing human frailty, ensuring his eternal health and youth while Dean watched on in awe, even as something in the back of his mind said this was wrong. He pushed that voice aside, this would keep Sammy safe. Sam looked up, eyes glowing gold and Dean shivered at the heated look. "Bed Dean," Sam growled barely hanging on enough to tell him that, and Dean scrambled up, going to the bedroom where Sammy pounced. There was no gentleness this time and Dean groaned as nails dug into his hips, drawing a small amount of blood.

Sam snarled, driven by animal instinct, unable to think as the magic continued changing him on a cellular level. He was driven on by the whimpers of Dean, the way he went limp and let Sam move him however he pleased. The bond between them allowed some of the power to spill over, shutting down Dean's ability to think as well as he gave himself to Sammy. Neither noticed the band of gold in Dean's eyes spreading out through the green in streaks as Dean whimpered, baring his throat and Sam latched on, teeth breaking the surface slightly as he bit down. Hours later Sam slumped, passing out draped over Dean who was already unconscious.

Sam woke the next morning feeling revitalised and he gently rolled off Dean, seeing the scratches and bit marks on his skin, reaching out to trace the line of runes that were almost invisible in Dean's skin. Dean shivered at his touch, eyes slowly opening, but he remained still, and Sam smiled, that would make this easier. He kissed Dean whose lips immediately parted for him. He wanted no chance of Dean even trying to disobey or argue today. Sam left him in the bed and went to look over the potion, smiling as he found it was ready. He poured it into the goblet and carried it back to Dean. "Drink all of this Dean."

"Yes Master." Dean took the goblet and drank the contents without hesitation despite the fact it contained blood, Sam's and the dead hunters. The goblet slipped from his hand and Sam caught it, watching him carefully as Dean fell back onto the bed, body jerking uncontrollably, eyes rolling back in his head as his skin flushed red before paling chalk white and then returning to normal as Dean whined and mewled, mind blank of all thought as magic poured through him, changing him.

Sam groaned softly as the bond between them flared wide open and he found himself with complete access to Dean's mind. He lay back on the bed, eyes closed, as Dean's life flashed before his eyes and for the first time in years he felt guilt. They had changed Dean's very personality against his will and why? Because Jess said so. Academically he understood what she had done to him was wrong, even if it didn't feel wrong, he was very different to the Sam that Dean remembered, that his own memories showed him. He was no longer the shy, empathic boy shown in both, he felt nothing for others…except Dean. Dean he wanted to protect, be tender with… even as he realised that he was reaching out to sooth the broken bond with Dean's mind and soul, he couldn't heal it, but he could lessen the pain. He hesitated, there wasn't much longer before the magic would be done, but then he firmed his resolve and worked quickly, hoping Dean would accept it. Dean's last memory before being turned into a slave was heart wrenching. Dean had realised he'd been drugged as he ate the second cookie, had been trying to get to the bedroom before he collapsed by the couch, his only thought to get to Sam, terrified he'd been drugged too and needing to protect him. Dean writhed on the bed, still lost to the magic until finally he went still, eyes shut, as he fell into a deep sleep. Sam gently cleaned him up and then curled around him to rest and watch over him.

Dean woke slowly, body feeling heavy, head stuffed with cotton wool, able to feel a strong arm slung over his hips and he struggled to remember. It was hard to think, to not just sink back down into oblivion and then he felt the arm tighten, pulling him up against a firm body and despite his burst of fear and confusion he felt his body relax completely, accepting the hold. Lips kissed his throat and Dean shivered, eyelids dropping.

"Go back to sleep Dean," a voice murmured in his ear and Dean sighed, eyes suddenly too heavy to open, limbs feeling even heavier as sleep pulled him under. The last though before it claimed him was the realisation he knew the voice, it was Sam.

Sam held Dean close even as he felt his body go slack again in sleep. He was unsure what would happen when Dean really woke up, but the slave bond was still there, if Sam put power and command behind something Dean would still have to obey. He wanted Dean to accept what had happened without that though, he needed Dean to be able to tell him when he was doing something he shouldn't.

Several hours later Sam slipped out of bed and dressed before going into the kitchen and unpacked the food he had bought a few towns over on the way in. he didn't want to care or crowd Dean when he woke up, but the smell of food would tempt him from the room.

Dean woke up slowly, feeling lethargic but he shifted, pushing himself into a sitting position even as he swayed. A bedroom…he didn't recognise it…where? He shook his head and regretted it as a wave of dizziness hit. He breathed deeply until it passed and carefully swung his legs over the side, finally noticing he was naked. What had happened? He tried to remember and slowly it came to him, going to Sammy for help…the woman in white…going to the apartment…there'd been something…he pressed his hands against his eyes, frustrated. Dean pushed himself up off the bed, stumbling and swaying until he grabbed the wall to steady himself.

Clothes…he needed clothes, he brought a hand up to check for stubble, that would give an indication of how long he'd been out only to freeze as his hand brushed metal. Dean put his hands to his throat and found a thin metal collar with no obvious latch, what the hell? He tugged at it, but it wouldn't budge and slowly his hands dropped, there was nothing he could do yet but…something about wearing it made him feel safe. He looked around for clothes and saw nothing but then another look and he saw material on a chair. He walked over and picked it up to find soft, luxurious fabric that ended up being in two pieces, the white was pants and the soft gold was a tank top. He hesitated but then slowly put them on, not wanting to be nude, where were his clothes? He went into the attached bathroom and splashed cold water on his face, trying to clear his head and caught a look of himself in the mirror. He could see the evidence of love bites, even scratches, on his uncovered skin but he stared at his reflection, the pants left very little to the imagination and yet he felt comfortable, like he was used to wearing them.

He left the bathroom and found a pair of sandals so slipped them on without even thinking about it, still struggling to remember. They'd gone to Sammy's apartment and… there'd been a plate of cookies. He'd eaten two, Sammy'd gone looking for Mi…Jess? He'd felt strange, hot…aroused…he'd been…drugged? Tried to get to Sammy…there was nothing after. No, there was…flashes…bodies entangled…hands, lips on him…pleasure… Dean shivered and shook his head. Something had drugged him and used him, where was Sam?

His nose twitched, and he smelt food, his stomach rumbling and he knew he'd learn nothing more staying in here, so he slowly walked, following his nose until he reached the kitchen and felt utter relief as he saw Sammy's back as he did something on a stove. "Sammy?" he called, voice a breath croak and Sam spun around, smiling at him.

"Hey Dean, hungry?"

"Yeah...what's happening? Where are we?" he asked in confusion and Sam approached, reaching out and Dean didn't move away from his touch.

"It's alright, we're safe Dean. We can talk after we eat, okay?" Sam kept a close watch on Dean, so far, he seemed too confused to really question and argue but Sam had no doubt that would happen once Dean got his feet under him. Life would have been a lot easier if he hadn't broken the barrier in Dean's mind to allow his old self to come forward, but it would be very lonely to have Dean as nothing but a devoted slave for eternity. Sam plated up the stew and bread and they began to eat.

As he ate he felt his strength returning and his mind began to clear more. He wondered where Jess was and then remembered she was dead, and it hurt! Why did it hurt if she was Sam's girlfriend, he didn't know her? "Jess is dead?" he asked just to be sure and he saw Sammy flinch but nod. "How?"

"The yellowed eyed demon," Sam whispered, and Dean's eyes widened, why didn't he remember that?

"I'm sorry…" Dean took a shaky breath. "It hurts, why does it hurt?"

Sam reached over and squeezed Dean's hand. "Because even though it was a spell you loved her, and that broken bond is still there," he answered, and Dean frowned.

A spell? He closed his eyes, trying to remember. "Cookies…I felt so strange…"

"They were dosed," Sam confirmed, and Dean's eyes snapped open, wariness creeping in as he pushed back from Sammy.

Sammy would never hurt him, would he? Why did he think that? Sammy had left them, left the family. "What the hell is going on? What's wrong with me?" he snapped. His hand went to his throat and he tugged. "What is this? Why…why does it feel good?"

"Jess…she was a witch, a demon gifted one. I…I…didn't know, she was just the pretty, fun girl and she liked me. I trusted her…" Sam paused, he wasn't entirely sure when he had literally fallen under her spell but considering how they had taken Dean. "I think she did something to me the first time we were together, I can't remember much from that night, or other nights. She made me forget things, to change me."

Those words had Dean lightheaded from a rush of emotions, terror for Sammy, rage at Jess, hate for himself that he hadn't been there to protect him…and yet there was still a…longing for the dead witch deep inside and seeing Sam so torn up had him wanting to go to him, kneel at his feet, offer himself to him to make him feel better…he gripped the table, breathing raggedly.

"I forgot why I was studying law, it was like it was all slowly fading away and I didn't care as long as she was happy. She did something to tie me to her, but she did one good thing. I…I had something in me…from the demon." Sam chewed his lip.

"Sammy?" Dean asked in alarm.

"Demon blood, I had demon blood in me, but she made a potion to purge it. I would have done anything she asked me to. And then you showed up and I…I didn't even recognise you, she put those words in my mouth, used a spell to make me act how you expected and I know...if we'd found John I would have killed him because she told me to." He still would, not just because her order was still imprinted in his mind, but for how the man had treated them. Dean didn't need to know that. "The cookies were laced with a lust potion, I went and joined her in the shower, we came out to find you sans jacket and boots collapsed on the floor against the couch and you were totally out of it and I…I didn't recognise you at all. When she said to take you to bed I couldn't wait." Sam looked up, meeting his eyes and Dean swallowed at seeing that heat in his eyes, shocked to feel want curling in him. "I am sorry Dean, for what we did…she taught me the runes and we drew them on your skin, you were out of your head with need, we had you shackled to keep you still while drawing. She had me set the spell and when it was done you were just lying there, no recognition, utterly submissive. We turned you into a slave, no will of your own, no memories and I enjoyed it." Part of him still did, got off on the look of utter adoration in his eyes, the innocence of someone with no self-determination or recollection.

Dean listened as Sammy explained what had been done to him, what he had become, and Dean felt sick, but there was a small part of him that said that would be wonderful, to just let go and let someone control him, to not remember the horrors of their lives. "The collar."

"It's sealed on magically," Sam admitted, not telling Dean who had done that.

"I was really just a…puppet?" he couldn't bring himself to say slave.

"She told you to burn the Impala, you would have if the demon hadn't turned up. It was not happy with what she'd done at all. It killed her, like Mom, and I drove it off."

"So, is that why we're free now?" Dean's emotions were all over the place, he didn't know what to think or feel.

"Sort of. We stayed in a motel for about a week, and you were different, some days you were more than a slave but still not yourself. I read John's diary, looked over your laptop. I remember but…it's like watching a movie of someone else's life, I feel nothing."

Dean jolted at that admission, Sammy's felt nothing? He met Sammy's eyes, needing to see a sign of emotion in him and Sam smiled slightly. "I feel nothing about the memories Dean." He couldn't stop himself from reaching out to touch Dean's face. "I still have emotions," he promised, and Dean froze at the touch, torn between pulling away from the chick flick moment and leaning into the touch.

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Azazel paced the room, still settling into his new meat suite, Sammy had done too much damage to the other one. He was angry over that witch messing with centuries of planning…but maybe it wasn't all lost. Dear Sammy, was a powerful witch yes and could become a very big threat, but with her death he was vulnerable. He no longer had the easier access through blood to influence his dreams and eventually him, but there were other ways. He would have his General and he'd get Dean for free, two for one. He smirked, yes, he could work with this.

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"The world can go to hell Dean and I don't care, but I will do anything to keep you safe," Sam swore, even if it was things Dean wouldn't agree with.

Dean frowned, working that out in his head. Sammy hadn't had his emotions stripped away but their lives before Jess had no emotion in it. But Sammy still cared for him, that was good. "What about the people we save?"

Sam just shrugged. "I'll do it if it's what you want. Killing demons is something I am definitely behind," that last bit was almost a snarl of rage.

"How do you kill a demon?" Dean demanded, and Sam grinned.

"Magic."

TBC..