Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or its characters - these were created by Eric Kripke - I'm just borrowing them. I'm not making any commercial gain. No harm or infringement intended.
Based on S01E16: Shadow – "Turn your face to the sun and the shadows fall behind you" – Maori proverb.
Warnings: Swearing. Non-Wincest implied references to incest.
~#~
The Three Faces of Winchester - Chapter Nine
The brothers were passing through Chicago and decided to hit the bar scene, it wasn't often they found themselves in a city and they felt it was about time they had a well-deserved treat.
So it was with some surprise that within minutes of visiting the first tavern, Sam recognized Meg sitting at the bar. She gave him a broad grin of recognition; it was obvious she was pleased to see him.
"I thought you were headed to California?" asked Sam, puzzled.
"I was, I still am," smiled Meg, "This is just a little stop off on the way. Anyway, what happened to you? Did you meet up with your brother?" she asked.
Sam smiled, "Yeah. Yeah, I did and things are a lot better, thanks."
Meg went stock-still all of a sudden, her eyes focusing in on Dean like a hungry cat on a mouse.
He stepped back, shocked at the extreme look of hate he saw in her eyes.
"You went back to him," she said in disbelief, shocked to discover the nature of the brother, "after everything you told me about him ruining your life and bossing you about the whole time."
Dean felt as if someone was squeezing his heart and it was like he couldn't breathe. He realized with absolute horror that he was almost on the verge of bursting into tears. There was something about this woman that he just knew was... evil. And his beloved Sam, his Sammy, had been bad-mouthing him, to her.
He clenched his fists hard and drew down a deep breath, narrowing his eyes as he unleashed the anger of every opportunity he'd missed, and every joy he'd sacrificed in his life because of protecting Sam.
"You poisonous bitch," he growled, "Stay away from my brother."
"Well, now, I think that should be Sam's decision, don't you?" she smirked, walking away.
Dean was outraged, but felt frozen with paranoia as he wondered what on earth his brother must have been saying about him. Sam, on the other hand, was suspicious of the coincidence of bumping into her, plus her rather strange behavior. It was like she had wanted to provoke an argument between him and Dean.
"Pay no attention to her, Dean. When I first met her it was like we just seemed to click, like we somehow had a connection or something in common, but..." Sam started to explain.
"You have nothing in common with that skanky ho," Dean interrupted, his voice shaking.
~#~
Meg stood in the window looking out in to the black of night. She knew that Sam had followed her to the apartment. With such a large frame she imagined it must be difficult for him to try to blend in to the scenery. The revelation of the nature of his brother had been shocking, she wondered which one was currently out there.
Wanting to get him all worked up and unbalanced she made sure to make a good show of undressing in full view of the open curtains; she had already made sure the room was well lighted so he would get a good look at her. She found herself wondering if he would stare, or turn away in shy embarrassment, and where those large hands of his might roam.
She shivered as she imagined that it was Sam's tender and gentle hands running across her body, stroking her, removing her clothing.
Meg was suddenly hit with the sickening realization that she was yearning for some form of human contact, even it was merely lustful, and she felt a mix of shock and disgust like someone had thrown a bucketful of freezing vomit over her.
Her eyes turned black in black as she stormed to the window and pulled the curtains closed with a single, angry motion.
"Troubles?"
Meg whirled round at the unexpected voice, holding her blouse up in front of her, and glared at the young man standing in the doorway.
"Tom, you're early. Why are you here?" she asked, more strident than she'd intended. If she was angry before, she was incandescent now at being caught emoting.
"Oh, don't cover up on my account," he laughed. With a significant look, Meg let the blouse drop from her hands.
The man made a long, lingering show of looking her up and down, "Hmm, nice meat suit, sis. Wanna bump uglies?"
Meg rolled her eyes, but gave him an appraising look in return, "Maybe later. Now answer the question."
"Father's anxious to get his vessel back."
Meg sighed as, just like that, a perfectly good mood was ruined, "I'm not the one that lost it in the first place."
"Hmm, well you do keep letting his son slip through your fingers though, don't you? I mean cannibals, really?"
"I've got it under control," she answered, feeling defensive.
"You were supposed to have him under your control by now, or are you losing your touch?"
"Is it my fault that the guy's a fuckin' gentleman? Besides, it turns out he's a lot more like his father than anyone suspected."
"Oh? Oh!" he said, catching her meaning at the last moment, "Well, that's... unexpected, how many others are there in there?"
"Just the one I've seen so far - a very protective, older brother."
"Older brother? I thought you meant the other one. Oh fuck, this just gets worse, are upstairs involved?" Tom asked, as the blood drained from his face.
"You think I'd still be here talking to you if they were?"
"Well, they do move in mysterious ways," Tom laughed and Meg snorted in response, "Did you tell father?"
"Oh, what do you think?" she answered, her voice thick with sarcasm.
"Hmm, well it's his game plan. So what are you going to do?"
"What I always do - drive in a wedge and break up the happy family. Or kill them," she smiled, as she lay back on the bed.
~#~
Sam waited for about half an hour before he spied Meg leaving the building under cover of darkness and walk a short distance to a warehouse before slipping inside. He watched her from the shadows until he was left in no doubts as to her involvement in something supernatural and satanic.
Sam texted his location to Dean's phone and almost before he'd pushed send, his brother was at his side.
"What d'ya find?"
"Definitely something wrong, I snuck inside and there's all kind of ritualistic paraphernalia."
"Huh?"
"It looks like some kind of black altar," Sam huffed.
"Whyn't you just say so then? So what, she some kind of witch?"
"I can hear you talking, you know," said Meg, her voice all sweetness and light, as creatures of evil and darkness grabbed hold of Sam.
"Oh crap," said Dean.
~#~
As Sam gradually came back to consciousness he could hear Meg talking to someone. At first he assumed it was a phone call, but as his vision returned he realized she was talking into a large bowl of what looked like blood.
The sense of the words escaped him and he couldn't hear the reply, but he had a feeling she was talking about him.
To his shame, a low groan escaped as the bump in his head started to throb, bringing Meg's attention back to him.
"Welcome back to the living," she greeted, "Enjoy it while you can," she smiled.
She ran inquisitive hands over his body, making Sam squirm with embarrassment.
"Don't panic, sweetheart," Meg laughed, "Just checking I've not done you any lasting damage. And anyway, it's not every day I get to grope a celebrity."
Sam threw himself forward, head butting Meg in the face, her nose crumpling and exploding in a shower of blood under the sudden impact. Sam's mouth filled with the taste of copper as he glared at her feeling nothing but utter hate and contempt. Meg's eyes widened in horror as her body shook in a series of violent fits, and thick black smoke started to leak out of her mouth.
The rope bonds loosened and fell away from where Dean had been working on them with the knife that he kept tucked in his boot and that Meg had overlooked.
With one long arm, Sam swept the contents of the altar to the floor. The shadows in the room shivered as they were released from their enslavement, then made a concerted attack on their former mistress.
Meg didn't even managed to take in enough breath to scream, before her body was hurled through the window to fall to a crumpled heap on the ground several stories below.
~#~
The brothers burst into their motel room in a state of agitation, unsure of what had happened to allow them to escape.
Once Dean flipped the light switch it took a moment to realize that there was someone who had been waiting for them in the darkness of the room.
"Dad," cried Dean in utter delight as he threw himself into a short, but tight hug. Sam stood by feeling shy and then just plain awkward when his father didn't respond to him.
"Son, I should have known you'd see the same signs as I did," said John, the pride clear in his voice.
"Signs?" asked Dean perplexed.
"Yes, all the reported murders of people who were born in Lawrence."
"Ah, of course," lied Dean, just overjoyed to bask in such rare praise from his father, even it was undeserved.
"So where have you been?" asked Sam, not quite able to keep the petulant tone out of his voice.
"Hunting the demon," answered John, "I'm sorry, I needed you to keep your distance while I tried to work out its end game. I think it's getting desperate - it knows I'm near to finding a way to kill it."
He placed his hands on Sam's shoulders, "But no matter how much I hide, it always seems to find me and I think it may have sent someone after you."
Sam shrugged and twisted out of his father's hold. In the excitement of seeing his dad he'd felt jealous when Dean had got a hug and he hadn't, but now he'd had time to calm down he found that he didn't much care to be touched by someone he had so many unanswered questions about.
"There was a woman, Meg. I thought she was a witch at first, but it was weird - like she suddenly started to exorcise herself," said Sam, going on to describe how he had met Meg and what had taken place at the warehouse.
"I wouldn't mind seeing this altar," said John frowning at the unexpected news of a female demon, "There might be some way to figure out who she was talking to. And you say you met her while hitchhiking?"
"That's right," muttered Sam, feeling awkward about the specifics of the argument with Dean he'd already skipped over.
"What was wrong with the car that you went to college in? That you took without asking, I might add."
"Dean and I kinda had a bit of a falling out, and I walked off."
John went pale and his eyes glistened as he took a deep sigh, "Oh Sammy..."
"Don't call me that!" screamed Sam, a sudden humming like static filling his head.
"I'm sorry, Sam, I'm sorry," John apologized, pulling his son into tight embrace, stroking the young man's back until the shivering ceased. After a couple of minutes John watched with sadness as his son pulled away from him again. "So, have you seen much of Dean since you left for Stanford?" he asked, treading with care.
Sam frowned at his father, then looked round and rolled his eyes when he realized that Dean had gone, He never did like it when Dad and I argued, he thought.
"Not for years," admitted Sam, feeling a little sheepish, "But we've been traveling together ever since you pulled your disappearing act."
It was John's turn to look shamefaced.
"Tell me, Dad, was he in on it with you? Cause there were a couple of times I wondered if he really wanted to find you at all."
John looked up the shock clear on his face, "Who, Dean? You mean he's... he's not here... right now?"
Sam gave a single huffed breath in response, "Are you serious?"
"Sam, you are in danger. You're not... well, but there are things happening that I don't understand, and in the meantime you're safer on the move. For the moment please, just trust me."
"Tell me about the yellow eyed demon, Dad," interrupted Sam, pulling his best bitch face and crossing his arms.
John gave a guilty start, "How did you know about that?"
"Apparently I was taken in by Child Services when I was about four and he came and took me away - while possessing you," said Sam dryly.
"Sam, who is Dean?" asked John, his voice strained.
Sam glared and huffed again in response, irritated at having his question ignored, "He's your son, and I tell you, he's far too forgiving of you as far as I'm concerned."
"I only have one son, you. Your brother died after carrying you from the fire when you just a baby."
"What are you talking about?" shouted Sam, as he felt the room start to spin.
"I went back for Mary... your mother, even though I knew she was already... I sent Dean to carry you to safety," said John, and Sam realized with shock that his father was crying.
"In my heart I knew I wasn't going to be coming back out. But your brother came back in for me, the fire was too hot and intense and we couldn't get to each other in time. He saved us both, Sam."
"No, no, this doesn't make sense. I have a brother he was just here..." stuttered Sam in confusion.
"We've been alone in this room since you came in, son. Listen, do you ever find that time seems to go by faster than it should?"
"Well time flies when you're having fun," mocked Sam, starting to sound like his brother.
"It's a... family curse," explained John, gritting his teeth at the attitude, "Sometimes we're... other people."
"And who are you then, Dad?" asked Sam with a sudden sinking feeling.
"You call him the yellow eyed demon," John answered, feeling the shame burning through him.
"You're lying, why are you saying this crap?"
"No, think about it. Deep down you know I'm telling the truth, you've always known it," shouted John, grabbing Sam by the shoulders and shaking him.
Sam's started to hyperventilate and his eyes rolled up in their sockets.
"That's enough Dad, just lay offa him," shouted Dean, stepping in to protect his brother.
As John looked at Dean through narrowed eyes, he wondered how he had managed to fool himself for so long into not seeing what now seemed so obvious. The way his son moved and spoke was subtly different, from the way he carried himself with a more belligerent set to the jaw, to his voice being maybe just a touch deeper.
"Dean?" John asked, looking askance at his son.
It was Dean's turn to roll his eyes, "Yes?" making no attempt this time to hide the sarcasm from his voice this time.
"You heard what I said just then... to... Sam? You've been here all this time?
It was as if a veil had been lifted from his eyes, Dean saw the world and his own situation with a clarity he'd never had before. A half-remembered memory unlocked itself and Dean tried to process this sudden recall, "You-you sent me away, before Sam went to Stanford," he accused.
"That wasn't me," John's expression turned grim, "So what are you then? Do you mean him harm?"
"No!" he cried in indignation, "I'm his big brother, it's my job to look after and protect him."
The unvoiced accusation against John hung heavy in the air between them.
"There's no one else in there?"
Dean shook his head, "Nah, not unless you count Sammy, but barring accidents he hasn't been out for nearly twenty years."
John looked at him with curiosity, he'd been working on the assumption that Dean was a malignant presence, like Sam's version of his own yellow eyed demon.
"So you gonna keep your temper, Dad?" asked Dean.
John nodded and watched astounded as his son's face relaxed and softened and he stood a little straighter. Sam's back, they really do just swap back and forth, he realized the situation for Sam and Dean was a thousand miles away from his own constant fight over his body with the demon.
"I'm sorry Sam. I'm so sorry, I would do anything to spare you this if I could, but the demon killed your mother and I thought Dean was something similar. I think I have a way to kill it this time, not just drive it back to Hell, but really kill it. But to do that I've got to keep it out."
He rolled up his sleeves to show the needle marks running up and down the inside of his arms.
"You're a junkie?" asked Dean in surprise.
John laughed, "This shit's pure. Finest holy water only - it seems to help keep the demon out but he's a strong one and it's a constant struggle. In the past there were always consequences for such behavior. Normally he'd get back at me through you."
"So that explains why child services were involved, but what does it want?"
"You. I'm not usually aware of what it does when it possesses me - unless it's trying to torment me, but I do know it's got some big game plan going on that involves you somehow. "
"Is it going to possess me?" asked Sam horrified.
"I don't know. I do know that it was pleased when Dean... died in the fire," he winced in apology, "and I know it used Missouri to cast Dean out, but I thought maybe they were rivals or something."
"Wait, Missouri is in cahoots with this thing too?" asked Dean, already weirded out by the revelation that he was apparently just his brother's imaginary friend.
"Oh yeah, avoid her at all costs - she's powerful and the demon has some kind of hold over her."
"This is crazy we're stronger together, we should stay together," argued Sam.
"No, we should split up, make ourselves less of a target," argued Dean, then sensing the disapproval emanating from his brother he threw up his hands in frustration, "Oh, I don't know, Dad, what do you think?"
John snorted, "I always thought this 'seeing-both-sides-of-an-argument thing' was the wannabe-lawyer kicking in, now I know you just can't agree with yourself."
Dean grimaced, he was going to take this under advisement, after all he certainly felt real enough and he was the older brother – surely that had to count for something?
~#~
Tom stood over the mangled body of his sister and nudged at her with the toe of one boot.
After a moment Meg groaned in response.
"Get up sleepy head," he laughed, giving her a sharp kick in the ribs.
Meg mumbled something unrepeatable through broken teeth, as she put herself back together.
"Oh, you poor dear, did your boyfriend dump you?" Tom giggled.
Meg tried not to dignify that with a comment, and pretended to concentrate on re-locating her shoulder.
"You're just jealous that he's nearly as tall as you used to be,"
Tom snorted, "Humans are such fucking midgets, I swear half the time it feels like I'm kneeling,"
"Yeah, I'd heard those rumors."
Tom smirked at the joke he'd walked straight into as he ran a possessive hand over his sister's face, healing the last remaining cuts and bruises. He leaned forward, flicking out his tongue to lick a smudge of blood from her lips before planting a tender kiss on her mouth.
"Say the word and I will kill him for you, no matter what the punishment," he growled.
Meg nipped him hard on the lip, drawing blood, "You're sweet, but knowing what's planned for him, it's a far worse punishment just to let him live."
~#~