Hi again, second chapter up! I'm powering through this haha!
Anyway, hope you enjoy; this took a lot to put together x
I'd love to hear what you think of it so far, so reviews would he much appreciated please!
Hell was organised. More so than Dean had ever expected it to be if he was honest; he was certain that it was mostly to do with Sam.
Meg's description of hell, however, was accurate.
'A prison prison, made of bone and flesh and blood and fear'
Alarmingly accurate. Luckily, Dean only had to go there just the once and he hadn't had to enter the world outside of the building Sam had transported him to.
He could hear the screams inside the building's moulding black walls almost as well as if he had been standing outside. He had never been more grateful in his life for his brother's presence.
The miscellaneous demons that passed in hallways looked at him like he was a piece of meat. If Sam wasn't pressed so closely to him, a hand lightly brushing the skin under the hem of his shirt, Dean was sure they would have thrown him outside and ripped him apart.
What disturbed Dean more than anything, apart from the fact that they were in hell and Sam hadn't told him why, was the fact that here you could see a demon's true face underneath the mirage of their previous vessel's body.
They were ripped up and burnt dark, eyes black and feral; hungry. Occasionally the eyes were missing completely and the skin around where they should be was siphoned away, revealing white bone through thick charred flesh.
When they smiled at him, mouths pulled open through dried blood to reveal teeth stained crimson, their skin cracked and bled, black blood oozing sluggishly down their faces and mixing with the congealed messes that already existed on their neck and cheeks.
Dean did his best to not look too closely.
When Sam stopped, finally, in front of a door to Dean's left, he didn't bother knocking before opening it and pulling his older brother with him.
Irritated, Dean tried to push his brothers arm off him but Sam was immovable and held fast. Dean's jaw clenched in irritation, but when Sam glanced down at him, glaring darkly, Dean swallowed thickly.
"This him?" Inside, a demon - possessing someone much to Dean's surprise - looked up and stood from where he was sitting at a table and bowed, looking at Dean and Sam with little interest.
"Yes," He looked expectantly at the demon. "Do you have it?" The demon smiled slightly and turned around to open a draw, pulling out a thick black collar. It had no distinguishing features at all, simple and without any marks at all, but it made Dean's stomach churn just looking at it.
"I'm not wearing that," he blurted.
Sam didn't even look at him, taking the collar from the demon and inspecting it more closely. "Yes you are Dean." His whole body oozed a quiet frustration that warned 'This isn't up for discussion'.
Dean protested. "But-"
Sam glanced at him and Dean suddenly lost all ability to speak.
Literally.
He opened and shut his mouth, breathing harshly in an attempt to make his vocal cords work, but his efforts were fruitless. He couldn't say a word. Dean glared at his brother, too pissed to even think of being afraid, and clenched his fists.
Sam looked away and back to the collar. "So what's the range on it?"
The demon furrowed his brow, crossing his arms in thought. "I'd say about a mile," he spoke with certainty. "Maybe a little more- but how close you are will influence the degree of... control."
Sam was nodding, looking thoughtfully between Dean and the demon before motioning to Dean. "Come here."
Dean stood stoically, face blank but stubborn; there was no way in hell he was going to play this game. He wasn't going to let Sam make the demons think he was going to be his brother's obedient little bitch, because that sure as fuck wasn't what he was going to do.
He was going to fight this, kicking and screaming, in every inch of any direction his brother forced him to move.
Sam continued to look at him steadily and, to Dean's surprise, made his own way over. He unclipped the collar, the mechanics for which Dean couldn't see, and briefly brushed his brother's shoulder with one hand. Dean shut his eyes when he couldn't move his feet, standing very still as his brother stepped behind him and carefully clipped the hideous black thing in place.
It made his brother's promise to him at Bobby's seem too real, too near, and he shivered.
Dean couldn't contain his surprised gasp when the collar constricted suddenly, his hands rising quickly to try loosen the uncomfortable tightness, but Sam intercepted him effortlessly and gripped Dean's hands tightly in his own, pulling them down and slightly behind him. Dean could feel his brother's intense gaze on his neck, hot and contemplative, as he inspected the collar.
"What do you think?" The demon asked quietly, for the first time sounding slightly uncertain, much to Dean's vindictive satisfaction.
Sam's forehead came to rest against the side of Dean's face, breath warm on his cheeks. "I like it."
"Thank you sir." The demon was relieved. Dean glowered, stony, looking nowhere but at the opposite wall.
Sam turned his head to look directly at the demon, smiling. "Go." The demon said nothing and left without a word.
Wordlessly, Sam nuzzled his face into Dean's neck, pressing gentle open mouthed kisses into his brother's skin, tonguing at the edge of the collar and making Dean's skin electrify unexpectedly; the feeling was foreign. A flicker of unease made his chest contract. "Sam..."
"It's not just a collar," Sam murmured into his neck. "It's infused with some of my power- like a cursed object. Sort of. You can feel what I feel; to a certain extent, of course," He laughed breathily, lifting his head and releasing his brother's hands. "Nothing you need to worry about."
"The demon said your proximity would affect the level of control," Dean spoke evenly, not buying what Sam was saying for a second and refusing to look at him. If he did, he might say or do something he was POSITIVE he would regret. "I'm not stupid Sam. Control of what?"
Sam was silent for a while, fiddling idly with the hem of Dean's shirt; a plain black tee was all he was allowed now. No flannels, no jackets. "You." Dean's heart dropped into his chest. "I can restrict when you can move, when you can talk; if I'm in range I can teleport to you."
Dean's head was spinning, his pulse thudding almost audibly against the collar, and he shook his head. "Come on Sam," he spoke lightly. "You don't need this thing to keep a hold on me. You can do that pretty well on your own with all that freaky demon shit right?" He was being less sensitive about his brothers powers than he felt comfortable being, but he knew there was no other way to phrase it.
His brother huffed, not a laugh, and stepped back from him. "Not just for me though Dean," He spoke, voice colder than it had been previously. Dean stiffened as his brother walked around to face him, brow raised. "It's to make sure all the demons know that they can't fuck with something that's not theirs." Sam regarded him cooly, eyes capturing his. "And it's also to remind you of who you belong to."
Dean glared. "I'm not anyone's Sam," he hissed. "And I'm definitely not yours."
Sam said nothing, staring expressionlessly down at him. "That's why we need the collar Dean," Sam spoke quietly, sparks of his anger sending ice up Dean's spine. "Because you're wrong."