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biffyTitle: Follow You Into the Dark
Pairing: Sam/Dean, Dean/OFC, Sam/OFC
Rating: R
Word count: 2326
Warning: Boy kissing and general weirdness. Mentions character death in a big way.
Disclaimer: Ownership? Meh. I'm just having a play.
Note: Not beta'd because I'm an impatient little thing so all mistakes are my own and I offer cookies in apology.
Summary: Set 6 months after Dean's year is up. Sam's been having these dreams....
Pairing: Sam/Dean, Dean/OFC, Sam/OFC
Rating: R
Word count: 2326
Warning: Boy kissing and general weirdness. Mentions character death in a big way.
Disclaimer: Ownership? Meh. I'm just having a play.
Note: Not beta'd because I'm an impatient little thing so all mistakes are my own and I offer cookies in apology.
Summary: Set 6 months after Dean's year is up. Sam's been having these dreams....
Sam’s supposed to be dead. Lying sprawled on his back on a lumpy bed in some dingy motel room, he’s knows he’s meant to be dead. But the thumping in his chest and the twisting of his stomach as he listens to the noises coming from the other side of the room prove that he is not.
Cautiously opening one eye, Sam turns his head slowly, trying to ignore the pounding headache threatening to split his skull open. There, across the dimly lit motel room, he sees Dean. But he’s not alone. Sam opens his other eye and makes out the shape of a woman, her head thrown back as she laughs at some joke Sam’s not heard. Her dark wavy hair tosses from side to side as she grapples on the bed with his brother. Dean doesn’t seem to even realise that Sam’s there. He pulls the woman down towards him, biting hungrily at her deep red lips. As she moves within reach of the dim circle of light coming from the bedside lamp, Sam catches his breath as he recognises who the woman is.
The crossroads demon.
Suddenly Sam can’t tear his eyes away from the spectacle, as the demon pushes Dean back down onto the bed and climbs on top of him. Sam knows he shouldn’t be watching this. Hell, he shouldn’t even be here. But for some reason he can’t bear to look away. The demon arches her back as she starts to fuck Dean, who is pinned to the bed like he can’t even move. But his eyes show no fear, only lust and longing.
Sam lets out a low groan, as the sight of his brother being screwed sends all sorts of crazy signals to his brain and groin. The demon’s head snaps around and Sam’s caught in her gaze, her dark lidded eyes boring into him with an almost physical touch. She touches Dean lightly on the chest, still not breaking her stride as she brings her body up and down, slowly up and down. Now Dean can move his head at least, and he turns to stare at Sam through the darkness.
Slowly, he moves his arm away from his body and crooks one finger, beckoning Sam towards his bed. Sam doesn’t even hesitate, doesn’t even listen to the screaming pain in his back, the blood soaking through his shirt and rolling in droplets down his ribs. In an instant he’s up off the damp bed and at his brother’s side. The demon doesn’t seem to even notice he’s there. As she throws her head back once again, her dark locks stick to the sweat that is beading on her back. Sam looks to Dean for reassurance. Dean nods, just ever so slightly, and Sam reaches out to brush the demon’s hair aside, wanting so badly to press his lips to that hot flesh and taste the salt on her skin.
But as soon as he touches her hair, she’s gone. Vanished. All that’s left is Dean and Sam in a dark, dank motel room in God knows where. Dean’s still lying there on his back, looking expectantly up at his brother. Again, Sam doesn’t even stop to think before he climbs up on the bed with Dean and reaches out to bring his brother’s lips to his own.
~*~*~
Some days Sam’s crying before he’s even opened his eyes. The first breath he takes is a gulping, shuddering gasp for air, calling out in anguish his brother’s name. The pain of his loss crushes him with unbearable weight, pinning him to the sweat soaked sheets and piercing his heart with longing. On those days Sam doesn’t bother getting out of bed.
It’s nearly six months since Dean left. That’s how Sam chooses to look at it. He just left. That way he can cling on to the hope that maybe one day he’ll be coming back. But Sam knows that’s never going to happen. Sam hides beneath his covers, his cell phone switched off, his laptop lying untouched on the floor. He just doesn’t want to face anything or anyone without his brother. Dean was always the strong one, the one who would save him whenever he fell. Only this time Sam is falling with no one to stop him. Dean is gone and there is nothing Sam can do, except lie there in the dark, the dried tears on his cheeks soon to be replaced by fresh ones.
All Sam can do is dream.
~*~*~
Sam opens the door cautiously and peers into the darkened room beyond. Sure enough, on one of the beds is a dark, hunched over shape. Sam pushes the door further open, allowing his companion into the room. He watches as the beautiful girl in the tight black dress, with the long, flowing hair walks over towards the figure lying on the bed. He follows closely behind and catches his breath as she rolls the body over and lightly touches the dead man’s face.
“Oh Dean...” she whispers, then turns away and pushes Sam roughly onto the other bed.
Sam pulls her down into his arms and rolls over on top of her, pinning her down so she can’t escape. He brought her here to show her what she’d done, what she’d taken from him. And now that he’d done that he was going to make her pay.
But this demon seems to like it rough. As Sam rips her dress open and bites hungrily at her dark and swollen nipples, his fingers digging deep into her flesh, she closes her eyes and moans.
“Oh Dean...”
Sam snaps his attention away from her breasts and grips her hard by the shoulders.
“Listen, bitch. Dean’s gone. You did that. He’s gone and I can’t bring him back. So unless you want me to send your ass right back to the stinking hell you came from right away, you better shut your mouth. Don’t you ever say my brother’s name again.”
The demon purses her lips, and is just about to retort when a sound from the other side of the room snatches Sam’s attention away. Peering through the twilight, he can see the shape on the bed rolling over, can hear it coughing and muttering under its breath.
“Son of a...” Dean is sitting up on the bed, rubbing at the side of his head and then staring uncomprehendingly at the blood that comes away on his hand.
“Sammy?” he says, not quite believing what he can see.
Sam suddenly realises he is alone on the bed, that damn bitch of a demon has disappeared again. He looks across to where Dean is sitting, and watches as his brother pats the bed beside him, inviting him over.
The gap between the beds can’t be more than a metre or so, but Sam feels like he’s walking through molasses. Each step takes forever, and every time he plants his foot on the floor, he feels like it’s going to give way underneath him.
Finally he’s standing right in front of Dean, and he reaches out to touch his brother’s hair, his cheeks, his lips. Anything, just to be able to feel him again. Dean tugs gently at Sam’s arm, guiding him down onto the bed by his side. He leans over until their faces are just inches apart and runs his tongue over his bottom lip. Sam gasps as his brother closes the distance between them, leaning forward for a kiss.
~*~*~
Sometimes Sam wakes up and he can’t remember a thing. Not his dreams, not where he’s going, not where he’s been. Not even who is he. He’s completely numb, unable to move, hardly even daring to breathe. He knows that as soon as he does, all the memories he’s been trying to block out will return. And even if he can’t remember anything else, he knows that he does not want those memories back.
When he finally feels able to get out of bed, he pulls on the same shirt he’s been wearing now for days. It’s not his shirt. The previous owner of it doesn’t matter. That’s what Sam’s been telling himself every time his brain starts to connect the dots and he almost remembers where the shirt came from. All that matters is that he feels comfortable wearing it. The shirt makes him feel safe.
He pads down to the front desk on bare feet and pays for another night in his single room. Sam always takes a single room, and there’s no real reason for this, it’s just what he does. Until his brain starts telling him it might be too painful to take a twin room all by himself and Sam has to stop that train of thought before it goes too far.
When his head seems to be working overtime Sam drinks. He gets a six pack and some takeout and lies on his bed watching shitty made for TV movies or badly dubbed porn. He buys a bottle of cheap tequila and watches daytime soaps, losing himself in the impossible to follow storylines. Anything, just to block out the feeling that something, someone, is missing.
On those days, Sam just drinks until he passes out and knows no more.
~*~*~
Sam knows this is probably a ridiculous idea, but it’s all he could come up with. It’s cold out here at the crossroads, the wind howling in the trees, dust getting blown around and stinging Sam’s already swollen eyes. Glancing furtively over his shoulder, he shoves the tin box into the hole and scrapes some dirt over it, ignoring the tiny voice in the back of his mind telling him to get the hell away from there.
Sam straightens up and brushes the dirt from his hands and his jeans. He’s almost too scared to turn around and face the girl he’s just summoned, but the cold steel of the pistol tucked into the waistband of his jeans reminds him why he came here and what he has to do. Just as he’s summoned up the courage to confront the demon, a familiar voice speaks to him.
“Shit, us Winchester boys really are all the same, aren’t we?” Sam spins around and stares slack jawed at the man standing in front of him.
“Dean?!”
“Live and in the flesh. Well, kinda. Hey, this suit makes me look pretty damn good, don’t you think Sammy?”
“Dean? How could you...? I mean, how is this possible?” Sam gawks unbelievingly at the sight of his brother wearing a sharply cut black suit and black shirt, standing there in the middle of the crossroads like it was the most natural thing in the world. This isn’t right. This isn’t who was supposed to show up. But Sam has no doubt that this really is his brother, and not some cruel trick being played by that evil bitch of a demon again. This is definitely his Dean.
“Oh, it’s possible Sammy. Pretty much anything’s possible when you call up a crossroads demon. We’re supposed to represent your innermost desire I think, and I guess I just brought you out of the closet little bro.”
Sam couldn’t believe this was happening, but somehow his plan seemed like it was going to work. He’d summoned the demon here to bring Dean back, and here Dean is. He starts walking towards his brother, but stops about a metre in front of him, a terrible sinking feeling starting in the pit of his stomach.
“But Dean, if you’re here.... you’re dead, right? You came up here from... from hell or something?”
“Or something. And I came here because you obviously want something from me.” Dean moves a step closer to Sam and gently smoothes the hair away from his brother’s furrowed brow. “Now, what could you possibly want from me, Sam?”
The cold steel of Sam’s pistol is pressing into his back, spurring him on to tell Dean his plan.
“I want you. I summoned the demon... you... because I wanted to bring you back. I just want you back. I don’t care what the consequences are, Dean. I need you. I can’t go on living without you like this.”
“Oh it all sounds so familiar Sammy. I said pretty much the same thing when I made my deal all that time ago. But you know there’s no way I can possibly come back now. I’m gone, Sam. Gone forever.” Dean can see the tears in his brother’s eyes and knows it is time to make a decision. All he wanted was to be with Sam again too, which meant only one thing.
“We can be together Sam, but you have to give up your life. I’m stuck and you’ll have to be stuck with me. That’s the only thing I can do.”
“So I die too? I go to hell?”
“Something like that. I’m sorry Sammy, but that’s all I can offer you.”
Sam doesn’t even need to think twice. “I’ll do it.”
“OK. So we’ve got a deal,” Dean murmurs as he twists his fingers into Sam’s hair and brings their lips together in a desperate, greedy kiss. Sam responds immediately, his long arms encircling Dean’s waist, holding on to his brother and vowing never to let go again.
The world around them seems to be spinning, and Sam can hardly catch his breath before Dean’s mouth is on his again, his tongue probing and searching. Sam’s eyes are squeezed tightly shut but still he can see bright lights, flashes of lightning and snatches of fire. Dean doesn’t let him go, just clings onto him as they keep on falling, and never hit the ground. Sam knows this moment will go on forever, but he simply doesn’t care. He’s not scared of falling any more now that Dean is there with him. There is nothing left to fear, and nothing left to feel.
Cautiously opening one eye, Sam turns his head slowly, trying to ignore the pounding headache threatening to split his skull open. There, across the dimly lit motel room, he sees Dean. But he’s not alone. Sam opens his other eye and makes out the shape of a woman, her head thrown back as she laughs at some joke Sam’s not heard. Her dark wavy hair tosses from side to side as she grapples on the bed with his brother. Dean doesn’t seem to even realise that Sam’s there. He pulls the woman down towards him, biting hungrily at her deep red lips. As she moves within reach of the dim circle of light coming from the bedside lamp, Sam catches his breath as he recognises who the woman is.
The crossroads demon.
Suddenly Sam can’t tear his eyes away from the spectacle, as the demon pushes Dean back down onto the bed and climbs on top of him. Sam knows he shouldn’t be watching this. Hell, he shouldn’t even be here. But for some reason he can’t bear to look away. The demon arches her back as she starts to fuck Dean, who is pinned to the bed like he can’t even move. But his eyes show no fear, only lust and longing.
Sam lets out a low groan, as the sight of his brother being screwed sends all sorts of crazy signals to his brain and groin. The demon’s head snaps around and Sam’s caught in her gaze, her dark lidded eyes boring into him with an almost physical touch. She touches Dean lightly on the chest, still not breaking her stride as she brings her body up and down, slowly up and down. Now Dean can move his head at least, and he turns to stare at Sam through the darkness.
Slowly, he moves his arm away from his body and crooks one finger, beckoning Sam towards his bed. Sam doesn’t even hesitate, doesn’t even listen to the screaming pain in his back, the blood soaking through his shirt and rolling in droplets down his ribs. In an instant he’s up off the damp bed and at his brother’s side. The demon doesn’t seem to even notice he’s there. As she throws her head back once again, her dark locks stick to the sweat that is beading on her back. Sam looks to Dean for reassurance. Dean nods, just ever so slightly, and Sam reaches out to brush the demon’s hair aside, wanting so badly to press his lips to that hot flesh and taste the salt on her skin.
But as soon as he touches her hair, she’s gone. Vanished. All that’s left is Dean and Sam in a dark, dank motel room in God knows where. Dean’s still lying there on his back, looking expectantly up at his brother. Again, Sam doesn’t even stop to think before he climbs up on the bed with Dean and reaches out to bring his brother’s lips to his own.
~*~*~
Some days Sam’s crying before he’s even opened his eyes. The first breath he takes is a gulping, shuddering gasp for air, calling out in anguish his brother’s name. The pain of his loss crushes him with unbearable weight, pinning him to the sweat soaked sheets and piercing his heart with longing. On those days Sam doesn’t bother getting out of bed.
It’s nearly six months since Dean left. That’s how Sam chooses to look at it. He just left. That way he can cling on to the hope that maybe one day he’ll be coming back. But Sam knows that’s never going to happen. Sam hides beneath his covers, his cell phone switched off, his laptop lying untouched on the floor. He just doesn’t want to face anything or anyone without his brother. Dean was always the strong one, the one who would save him whenever he fell. Only this time Sam is falling with no one to stop him. Dean is gone and there is nothing Sam can do, except lie there in the dark, the dried tears on his cheeks soon to be replaced by fresh ones.
All Sam can do is dream.
~*~*~
Sam opens the door cautiously and peers into the darkened room beyond. Sure enough, on one of the beds is a dark, hunched over shape. Sam pushes the door further open, allowing his companion into the room. He watches as the beautiful girl in the tight black dress, with the long, flowing hair walks over towards the figure lying on the bed. He follows closely behind and catches his breath as she rolls the body over and lightly touches the dead man’s face.
“Oh Dean...” she whispers, then turns away and pushes Sam roughly onto the other bed.
Sam pulls her down into his arms and rolls over on top of her, pinning her down so she can’t escape. He brought her here to show her what she’d done, what she’d taken from him. And now that he’d done that he was going to make her pay.
But this demon seems to like it rough. As Sam rips her dress open and bites hungrily at her dark and swollen nipples, his fingers digging deep into her flesh, she closes her eyes and moans.
“Oh Dean...”
Sam snaps his attention away from her breasts and grips her hard by the shoulders.
“Listen, bitch. Dean’s gone. You did that. He’s gone and I can’t bring him back. So unless you want me to send your ass right back to the stinking hell you came from right away, you better shut your mouth. Don’t you ever say my brother’s name again.”
The demon purses her lips, and is just about to retort when a sound from the other side of the room snatches Sam’s attention away. Peering through the twilight, he can see the shape on the bed rolling over, can hear it coughing and muttering under its breath.
“Son of a...” Dean is sitting up on the bed, rubbing at the side of his head and then staring uncomprehendingly at the blood that comes away on his hand.
“Sammy?” he says, not quite believing what he can see.
Sam suddenly realises he is alone on the bed, that damn bitch of a demon has disappeared again. He looks across to where Dean is sitting, and watches as his brother pats the bed beside him, inviting him over.
The gap between the beds can’t be more than a metre or so, but Sam feels like he’s walking through molasses. Each step takes forever, and every time he plants his foot on the floor, he feels like it’s going to give way underneath him.
Finally he’s standing right in front of Dean, and he reaches out to touch his brother’s hair, his cheeks, his lips. Anything, just to be able to feel him again. Dean tugs gently at Sam’s arm, guiding him down onto the bed by his side. He leans over until their faces are just inches apart and runs his tongue over his bottom lip. Sam gasps as his brother closes the distance between them, leaning forward for a kiss.
~*~*~
Sometimes Sam wakes up and he can’t remember a thing. Not his dreams, not where he’s going, not where he’s been. Not even who is he. He’s completely numb, unable to move, hardly even daring to breathe. He knows that as soon as he does, all the memories he’s been trying to block out will return. And even if he can’t remember anything else, he knows that he does not want those memories back.
When he finally feels able to get out of bed, he pulls on the same shirt he’s been wearing now for days. It’s not his shirt. The previous owner of it doesn’t matter. That’s what Sam’s been telling himself every time his brain starts to connect the dots and he almost remembers where the shirt came from. All that matters is that he feels comfortable wearing it. The shirt makes him feel safe.
He pads down to the front desk on bare feet and pays for another night in his single room. Sam always takes a single room, and there’s no real reason for this, it’s just what he does. Until his brain starts telling him it might be too painful to take a twin room all by himself and Sam has to stop that train of thought before it goes too far.
When his head seems to be working overtime Sam drinks. He gets a six pack and some takeout and lies on his bed watching shitty made for TV movies or badly dubbed porn. He buys a bottle of cheap tequila and watches daytime soaps, losing himself in the impossible to follow storylines. Anything, just to block out the feeling that something, someone, is missing.
On those days, Sam just drinks until he passes out and knows no more.
~*~*~
Sam knows this is probably a ridiculous idea, but it’s all he could come up with. It’s cold out here at the crossroads, the wind howling in the trees, dust getting blown around and stinging Sam’s already swollen eyes. Glancing furtively over his shoulder, he shoves the tin box into the hole and scrapes some dirt over it, ignoring the tiny voice in the back of his mind telling him to get the hell away from there.
Sam straightens up and brushes the dirt from his hands and his jeans. He’s almost too scared to turn around and face the girl he’s just summoned, but the cold steel of the pistol tucked into the waistband of his jeans reminds him why he came here and what he has to do. Just as he’s summoned up the courage to confront the demon, a familiar voice speaks to him.
“Shit, us Winchester boys really are all the same, aren’t we?” Sam spins around and stares slack jawed at the man standing in front of him.
“Dean?!”
“Live and in the flesh. Well, kinda. Hey, this suit makes me look pretty damn good, don’t you think Sammy?”
“Dean? How could you...? I mean, how is this possible?” Sam gawks unbelievingly at the sight of his brother wearing a sharply cut black suit and black shirt, standing there in the middle of the crossroads like it was the most natural thing in the world. This isn’t right. This isn’t who was supposed to show up. But Sam has no doubt that this really is his brother, and not some cruel trick being played by that evil bitch of a demon again. This is definitely his Dean.
“Oh, it’s possible Sammy. Pretty much anything’s possible when you call up a crossroads demon. We’re supposed to represent your innermost desire I think, and I guess I just brought you out of the closet little bro.”
Sam couldn’t believe this was happening, but somehow his plan seemed like it was going to work. He’d summoned the demon here to bring Dean back, and here Dean is. He starts walking towards his brother, but stops about a metre in front of him, a terrible sinking feeling starting in the pit of his stomach.
“But Dean, if you’re here.... you’re dead, right? You came up here from... from hell or something?”
“Or something. And I came here because you obviously want something from me.” Dean moves a step closer to Sam and gently smoothes the hair away from his brother’s furrowed brow. “Now, what could you possibly want from me, Sam?”
The cold steel of Sam’s pistol is pressing into his back, spurring him on to tell Dean his plan.
“I want you. I summoned the demon... you... because I wanted to bring you back. I just want you back. I don’t care what the consequences are, Dean. I need you. I can’t go on living without you like this.”
“Oh it all sounds so familiar Sammy. I said pretty much the same thing when I made my deal all that time ago. But you know there’s no way I can possibly come back now. I’m gone, Sam. Gone forever.” Dean can see the tears in his brother’s eyes and knows it is time to make a decision. All he wanted was to be with Sam again too, which meant only one thing.
“We can be together Sam, but you have to give up your life. I’m stuck and you’ll have to be stuck with me. That’s the only thing I can do.”
“So I die too? I go to hell?”
“Something like that. I’m sorry Sammy, but that’s all I can offer you.”
Sam doesn’t even need to think twice. “I’ll do it.”
“OK. So we’ve got a deal,” Dean murmurs as he twists his fingers into Sam’s hair and brings their lips together in a desperate, greedy kiss. Sam responds immediately, his long arms encircling Dean’s waist, holding on to his brother and vowing never to let go again.
The world around them seems to be spinning, and Sam can hardly catch his breath before Dean’s mouth is on his again, his tongue probing and searching. Sam’s eyes are squeezed tightly shut but still he can see bright lights, flashes of lightning and snatches of fire. Dean doesn’t let him go, just clings onto him as they keep on falling, and never hit the ground. Sam knows this moment will go on forever, but he simply doesn’t care. He’s not scared of falling any more now that Dean is there with him. There is nothing left to fear, and nothing left to feel.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-18 01:41 pm (UTC)freud and charcot would have been really proud of those dream sequences, my dear. archetypes are so your thing :)
about the deal ... and about dean becoming a CRD ... that's genius, i know you know that already. one question. is it hell if they're together ?
no subject
Date: 2008-01-18 01:56 pm (UTC)oh and that idea of Dean being the CRD? I am *so* proud of that one, I can't believe I've not read it before somewhere. That was the idea I thought of whilst on the toilet last night and had to quickly scribble down before I forgot it ;)
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Date: 2008-01-18 02:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-18 02:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-18 02:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-18 02:17 pm (UTC)Whatever shall I write now?!
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Date: 2008-01-18 02:19 pm (UTC)"now that i sent my two favorite characters to eternity in hell, i can go back to writing stupid stuff."
no subject
Date: 2008-01-18 04:49 pm (UTC)But the hardest blow is the end, where Dean turns up as the crossroads demon. That was a brilliant idea and I really like the concept. The kiss during their fall into hell was beautiful of course.
Awesome work!
no subject
Date: 2008-01-18 06:49 pm (UTC):)
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Date: 2008-01-18 05:27 pm (UTC)Absolut great fic. I really like it!
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Date: 2008-01-18 06:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-18 10:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-20 05:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-20 07:33 am (UTC)Good stuff, keep em coming!
no subject
Date: 2008-01-20 05:33 pm (UTC)I think I know what you mean about the ending. I wasn't 100% happy with how that last dream sequence turned out but hey, I've not been writing long and would never consider myself an expert! There's always room for improvement :D