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Dreams and Nightmares - Chapter Six
Chapter Six
Sam’s POV
They’re back at the motel, sitting at the small table with pie and ice cream, courtesy of Sam. When he made the decision to come back and join his family, it was because of the hunt, and finally making peace with the feelings he has for Dean. The dreams he was having about Dean are molded into his mind and wishes for them to come true when the moment is right. Sam is okay with this. Although now he is angry and his own stupidity. At the time it made sense; just leaving his brother without a word. Plus there was his father’s comment at the diner, about them being quite a pair whether they want to admit or not. Sam knows deep down that he is like his father, but the differences are important: Sam has the love, caring, and protectiveness within him that his father lost after his wife died in the fire.
Once they finished eating their desserts, the boys went to their own room. Sam stepped out to grab a soda from the vending machine. When he knocked on the door to their room, he was expecting Dean to answer the door, not their father. His heart pinged at the thought Dean wasn’t around, however when Sam stepped into the room, Dean was there. Taking in the sight of his brother, Sam gasps, finally realizing the pain his brother was in. Around his left eye, a purple-blue bruise bloomed, and he was hunched over as if a truck hit him in the solar plexus. It hurt like shit to see his brother like that, and Sam questions if that was really what happened. Dean has been in bar fights before, but he’d never been hurt like this. It’s more like the sparring matches with their Dad, and that thought makes Sam’s heart clench within his chest. The thought that Dean got a beating from Dad over him leaving pains him more than he can say. Dean never deserved that, no matter what the cost was to Sam. Though Dad did say he was drunk, but still that’s not a reason to beat your son, especially when he follows his every word like an obedient soldier.
It’s as if John can feel Sam’s anger towards him. Making his excuses, he leaves the two boys alone. That suits Sam just fine.
With their father gone, Sam can find out the truth about what happened while he was gone.
“Dean. How do you feel?” Sam asks peering down at Dean who is avoiding his gaze. He knows there is a chick-flick moment on the horizon, and it’s going to happen whether Dean wants it too. Sam wishes Dean would express himself instead of hiding himself from the world. Maybe now that Sam know how he feels, he can help Dean understand his own feelings, too.
“I’m fine Sammy. How about you? Like to tell me what happened?” Dean asks, concern evident in this voice. That’s Dean, not letting anything be about himself.
“Umm…Dean, I needed to get away. It’s hard to explain. And I don’t think I’m ready to share it with you – not yet, anyway. I’m sorry. I just need to figure this out on my own.” Sam tells his brother.
Dean nods. “I understand that, Sam. But shit Sammy, I panicked and wondered where the hell you went.” He turns his head towards the window and takes in a deep breath. “I thought I was the reason you left. Do you know how that feels?” Dean shares with Sam. He moves quickly to get up, away from his feelings, knocking the chair over in the process. The crash of the chair against the floor is the only sound heard. Dean begins to pace from one side of the room to the other.
“Dean! I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you, or even leave you. I just needed to get away and figure this out.” Sam slowly stands uplifting the chair back before stepping into his brother’s path to meet him eye to eye. “Why did you think it was because of you?” The small gasp that escapes Dean’s throat clearly indicates that Sam hurt his brother, and Dean isn’t quite ready for the concern and reassurance that Sam wants to give. But Sam knows Dean needs this.
“Dean. Stop and listen to me.” He tells his brother with a slight whine to his voice and his puppy dog eyes. Surely his brother can’t resist that?
Dean stops fidgeting but keeps looking down, clenching his fists until his knuckles turn white. Then he looks up and Sam can see the fear that shines through his eyes and body. The intensity makes Sam gasp in response. Sam has never seen this look before and he wonders if he and John pushed Dean too far this time if Dean thinks he deserves this.
“Sammy, if it wasn’t because of me - then tell me, please?” And Dean is begging. It breaks Sam’s heart, but he isn’t ready to share.
“Dean… All I can say is – I had this vivid dream, and it showed me what my heart wants. It freaked me out and, well, I needed some time to myself.” Sam can see the disappointment creep up on his brother’s face before it morphs into understanding. It’s not the answer Dean is looking for, but it’s a response that Dean can work with and find out later.
“Okay, Sammy. I get it. Must have been some dream to freak you out that bad. I don’t blame you for your actions, just a heads up would have been nice though.” Dean says with that grin back on his face. Sam is glad that Dean is okay for now.
“Thanks, Dean. Now tell me about the bruises?” Sam knows he’s pushing Dean here, but he needs to know.
The effect is instantaneous. Dean looks down at his feet his body shaking and his breathing becoming erratic. He takes a few steps back and looks out the window gathering his thoughts of how he should and wants to response to the question.
“It’s not his fault. He was drunk.” That tells Sam all he needs to know, but he waits for his brother. Dean sucks in a deep breath and turns his back to Sam and his body shakes even more violently as he gets himself together. “God damn it, Sammy, it was Dad. He was drunk and blamed me for you taking off. I deserved it since I probably am to blame.” Dean spits it out like they’re the dirtiest words ever to cross over his tongue. Sam watches as he licks his lips nervously. It’s a gesture that never happens until Dean is sick or injured and even then it doesn’t always happen.
Sam gasps in shock as the protectiveness he has discovered on his little adventure comes through. He crosses the room towards Dean, who has his back towards him, and wraps his long arms around his brother, trapping Dean’s arms against his sides. Dean goes tense in his arms and the hitch in his breath catches Sam’s attention.
“Dean. I’m sorry. You don’t deserve it. You never deserve to get beaten for my actions. It was my fault and my fault alone.” Sam gently soothes his brother. He’s used it before, because it calms Dean down when he is upset.
As Dean continues to tremble, he tightens his hold on Dean. A single drip of liquid lands on Sam’s hands, and he whispers reassurances into his brother’s ear.
When the tension leaves Dean’s body and he relaxes within Sam’s arms, Sam feels more tear drops landing on his hands. With a start he realizes that Dean is crying. He can feel the violent shakes against his chest, and his heartaches for his brother. In that moment, Sam’s feelings overwhelm him. He wants to change the way his father sees and acts towards Dean. Though he is not sure how John would take that, or even how Dean would react to his father finally respecting his own needs and wants. Sam wants to beat it into his father that Dean is worthy of all the things John wants for Sam.
Dean’s sobs get stronger and he tries to get away from Sam’s grasp, but Sam holds him firmly against his chest. Sam holds him until he feels a shift in Dean’s weight and realizes that his brother no longer has control over his body and collapses against Sam. The force of it brings Sam down to the floor, and he carries Dean with him until he cradles Dean in his lap and against his chest.
“Why? Why does he hate me so much? I would never make you leave, Sammy.” Dean tells Sam through his sobs and heartbreak.
“I don’t know, Dean. I know you would never do anything to make me leave.” Sam pauses to gather his thoughts. There might never be a better time to get through to his brother. “Dean, you’re a strong, a confident, and a caring person that deserves so much more in life than what you get in return. You… you mean the world to me, Dean, and I will protect you like you protect me. But you need to let me in.” Sam tells him with the love and strength that he feels pulsing through his large frame.
Dean cries on his chest and Sam rocks him back and forth on the floor of the motel. It’s the first time Sam can remember ever seeing Dean this upset and vulnerable. It breaks something inside of him, something that can only be fixed by helping Dean discover his true potential, and be the man he was always meant to be.
Once Dean falls asleep in Sam’s arms, he lowers himself completely onto the floor. Rolling Dean onto his side, Sam pillows Dean’s head against his chest. It’s been a long time since they shared a bed, the last time Sam can remember is when Dean held him after a nightmare he had when he was younger. Finally Sam is able to return the favor, for once in his life. He has the opportunity to try to tell his big brother that he is a person worthy of love. Dean deserves to have a life outside of the family business, but trying to explain that to Dean will be quite the challenge. Sam only hopes that tonight something got through to his brother.
~*~*~
Sam lays there with his brother on top of him sound asleep. The exhaustion leaves Dean’s body as he enters a deep sleep. Sam can’t imagine the emotional pain Dean is going through. He wonders if his brother will ever get over it, if he’ll be able to move on, no matter what their life will bring to them.
Sam wraps the comforter around them, a pillow lands on Dean’s legs in the process. Grasping the pillow, Sam settles it behind his head to be more comfortable on the cold hard floor of the motel. Finally he can close his eyes.
Sam feels out of place as he is seated at the small table without his laptop and newspaper articles littering his sight for their next hunt. This is his Dad’s room and this must be his dream, but he feels the muscles stretching over his bones and the neat facial hair on his face. Shit! He is John. Well, not really, but Sam is seeing his father’s dream through his father’s eyes.
Dean left about a half hour ago to pick up some much needed medical supplies, and food for dinner. It shouldn’t take his son much time to return back to the motel.
About an hour after Dean should have been back, there is a noise of the door creeps open. Dean juggles with the bags of supplies in one hand, while the other holds, what John assumes to be their dinner. Dean kicks the door closed, before placing the bags on the floor near the small table to avoid the articles of newspaper cluttering it.
Dean looks up at John and stands there like a deer caught in headlights. Eyes wide and frozen in place.
“Dean, what took you so long?” John growls.
“Umm…I had a hard time finding some of the supplies. Sorry, Dad.” Dean tells him before looking down at his shoes, ready, waits for the disappointment to come.
“You should have called. I’ve been waiting for your goddamn ass to get back. I found us a case.” Annoyance and disgust are lacing John’s voice. Why can’t Dean make a damn phone call?
“I’m – I’m sorry, Dad. Next time I’ll call. I never meant to be late.” Dean pleads with his father, resentment in his eyes.
“Next time is right, Dean! My God! Are you that dumb?” John mocks him, crowding into his space, making Dean, shrink back into the door as his father’s frame looms over him.
“N – No! I lost track of time. I’ll remember for next time.” Dean whispers still avoiding Sam’s – John’s – gaze.
“I’ll make sure you remember. Dean, look at me, you useless piece of shit.” He slams his hand into the door by the side of Dean’s head making Dean flinch even though he tries to hide it. A nasty grin curves John’s lips. “Why do I keep you with me? Huh? You’re worthless.” He pauses, basking in the guilt and shame radiating from Dean. “Oh yeah, you’re my soldier.” John rasps sarcastically at his son.
“What are you, Dean?”
Dean hesitantly lifts his head and meets John’s gaze. The fear seeps out of Dean and he responds in a manner that is pure sweetness.
“I’m your soldier and I must follow your orders, Sir.” He sighs and takes a deep breath in, letting it out before continuing. “My role is to do what you ask me to do and never question them. Be a good soldier. If not – not – I shall be punished.” Dean pushes it out and shakily unbuttons his jeans and slides them down towards his ankles. He must be commando at all times.
“That’s right Dean. And you didn’t follow a rule. You will be punished.” John says matter of flatly and sneers seeing the fear heighten in his son.
John pulls his fist back and punches Dean in the face. Dean recoils and John sweeps his legs out from under him. Dean takes a fall and lands hard on the wooden floor as the wind is knocked out of him. Dean tries to get up, but John launches himself on top of Dean, straddling his waist.
Dean looks up at him with tears filling his eyes, not yet leaving to roll down his reddened cheek. His lip is split open and John slaps his son’s face to open the cut more. The tears start rolling as he whimpers, “Stop, I’m sorry.”
It fuels John more and his palm strikes Dean’s solar plexus multiple times, listening to the whimpers escaping his son’s broken lips. Dean writhes in pain and tries to cover the injuries with his right arm that gotten lose from John’s grasp.
John sees his arm move and knows where it’s heading. He grabs Dean’s wrist and squeezes as hard as he can. Dean screams out in pain and bucks his hips trying to get his father off of him.
“Dad! Stop! I’m sorry! It’ll never happen again!” Dean shouts and tries to move his hand again.
But John just tightens his hold and lifts it up, only to slam it into the floor beneath them. Dean shouts out and struggles to get loose as John smirks down at his son.
“What’s the matter, Dean? Can’t fight me like when we are training, huh? Now it’s my turn to show you what I can really do.” John’s expression darkens as he watches the fear pulse through Dean.
John cranks his arm down towards Dean’s shoulder while twisting it roughly and the sound of “pop” and “fuck” punctuating the screams of pain from Dean. Using one hand, John keeps Dean’s arm in position, and with his other he begins to punch his gut until his son can no longer breathe. He gets off his son’s body and pulls the arm he knows is broken to flip Dean over onto his stomach. The arm stays twisted brokenly on his back even as Dean continues to shout and scream in agony. Dean tries to kick out, but John easily evades it before kicking back at his son’s broken body. His foot lands heavily on Dean’s stomach until he slams his large booted foot against his head and knocks his son unconscious.
John stands up and picks his son’s limp form off the ground and slams it onto one of the beds. Dean’s face is bloody and his lip is split wide open. It will need stitches though John will wait until morning to fix that. A pleased smile reaches John’s face, as he stares at the broken man before him. Dean has been antsy and distracted ever since his brother took off for no reason. John isn’t willing to lose another son, he needs his soldier to stay.
John strides over to the mini fridge and pulls out a beer. Twisting the cap off and taking a sip of the bitter ale. He swipes his blood-stained hands off on a towel, grabs his meal from the bag, and gets back to his research.
Sam bolts up-right, residual fear pulses beneath his skin. The images of Dean are still behind his eyes and he whimpers before turning towards Dean who is laying on the floor and sleeping, wrapped within the comforter. Sam needs to check to see his injuries. Shuffling close, Sam stares at his brother. Dean’s face is filled with freckles and there is a touch of pink on his cheeks. Except for his black eye, his face is in perfect condition: he was never beaten to a pulp. He places his fingers against Dean’s neck to check for a pulse and its calm beat soothes Sam. Oh thank God! Sam never beat the shit out of Dean. In his dreams that felt so real, it felt as if Sam hurt his brother for not following orders, punishing him for not following them at any cost.
Sam runs to the bathroom and vomits into the toilet.
~*~*~
John’s POV
Down the hall from the boys, John lays on the bed, hands tucked behind his head. The television is on and turned down low on some action movie. The ceiling fan rattles on high and his beer sits on the end table with a small lamp and clock upon it.
John drowns the rest of his beer and gets comfortable on the bed, short enough, that his feet hang off. Sam has the same problem, takes after John with his height; while Dean…his oldest is much more like Mary, the love of his life.
His thoughts take a darker turn as he thinks of Mary. They had a plan, a future, and it was taken away by the yellow-eyed demon that had plans for Sam. When he’s not consumed with his thoughts of revenge, he wonders about those plans. He has no idea what they are, but them seem to include Dean. It’s with a heavy heart that he realizes the boys will need to discover it on their own.
Deep down John is disgusted by the thought of his boys being more than brothers (based on their interactions and closeness), but with their life, it’s not that far from the truth. Thinking about it (and wishing he wasn’t) he comes to the conclusion that Sam would be the one to have more than brotherly feelings for Dean, since his oldest took care of Sam and gave him what he needed when John couldn’t. Though if Dean let someone into his heart, that person would be Sam. Sam already belongs there; it’s only a matter of time until Dean opens up and sees what is right in front of him. Someone who loves him unconditionally.
John focuses on the rattling of the ceiling fan and the soft hum of the television lulls him to sleep.
John feels out of place in the motel room, sitting at the table waiting for the person he picked up at the bar. Once he sees the motel door opening, he’s on his feet in a flash, slamming the body against the wall. Beneath him are the strong, hard lines of a man. A man, what the hell, no way. Who the hell is this? Raking his hand across his face and the feel of smooth skin makes his heart race. The added height and long, shaggy brown hair falling into his face, John knows. He’s his son, he is Sam.
Sam slams his lips upon the man and hears the moans escaping into his mouth. He can feel the man’s erection against his hip locked in confines of his denim. Sam pushes his hips forward and a hiss of excitement escapes his lips, the need of feeling a man against him since he will never have Dean. This is what he needs and wants.
Sam wastes no time in taking the man’s flannel shirt, unbuttoning until he is able to push it off the guy’s lean shoulders. He lifts the hem of the undershirt, ripping it up and over the man’s head. The man’s breathing quickens with excitement and anticipation for more. It sends an electric shock through Sam’s body as he places his large palm on the man’s beating heart, lowering his hand to trace the curves of his abdominal muscles. There is a hitch of the guys breathe when John releases the buckle of his belt.
“S – S – Sam.” The voice whispers with lust and nerves.
John (Sam) stops, hands holding the opened buckle, and hesitantly looks up, “D – Dean. Is that you?” Sam asks, knowing all too well, it is.
“Ye – Yeah Sam. What – What are you? What are w – we doing?” Dean asks nervously and slightly scared.
Sam fully takes in his brother’s appearance. His body has gone rigid, his face is pinched and turned away, even as his eyes flicker a cross between fear and want. Sam’s eyes narrow as Dean, turns to look at him, but unable to meet his gaze, anxiously waiting for an answer.
“D – Dean. I need you. I need to be with you, man – to fill this ache in my chest. I won’t hurt you and I will take care of you. I – I just need.” Sam answers his brother, honestly, displaying his vulnerability. Sam hopes that Dean understands why he needs to be with Dean.
John (Sam) continues to pull open the belt through the loops, letting it fall to the floor. He uses his thumb to release the button and slowly pulls the zipper down. Sam realizes his brother is flaccid within his jeans. He wants to change that quite quickly because this could be his only chance. Sam wants to pleasure his brother as much as he wants to pleasure himself though his heart aches at what he will be taking from Dean. He is fulfilling a need and using his brother to achieve this goal, even if it’s what he wants for them.
Dean gasps and stiffens his body as he realizes what will happen. His head slams back against the wall, showing his submission to his brother’s wants and needs. Despite his willingness, he is clearly unsure of what this hidden secret means.
John (Sam’s) hand slip beneath the waistband of Dean’s boxers and jeans. He slides them down his bowed legs letting them pool at his feet. Dean shivers and his breathing gets raspy as he confirms that something is really going to happen. Sam leans forward and capture’s Dean’s lips in a chaste kiss as he brings his hands around to cup his brother’s round globes of flesh. Dean steps out of his clothing and hesitantly follows as Sam deepens the kiss and moves them closer to the bed.
Sam turns them around until he pushes Dean down onto the bed with a glint in his eyes that is pure lust.
Sam crawls up onto the bed and his gaze is locked with Dean’s. Dean’s eyes reflect his lust, although there is also fear shining through unshed tears. Ignoring that, Sam wastes no time in claiming his brother’s lips in a hungry kiss.
Sam can hear the slight whimpers, and he grinds down to show Dean how much he is wanted and needed at the moment. The confusion on Dean’s face is clearly understandable when Sam can feel his brother’s cock begin to swell and harden at the motion and intimate touch.
Sam deepens the kiss and pulls his flannel shirt wide open, buttons flying around the room. Sam kisses along his jawline as he makes his way towards the back of Dean’s ear. The unexpected moan of pleasure puts him on hold, gently trailing his hand down his brother’s firm chest towards his impressive cock.
Dean has his eyes shut tight and heat upon his skin. The tense lines his face and chest reflect the unwilling pleasure of being with a man, not necessarily his brother. Sam slowly, gently, rests his hand at the bottom of Dean’s belly, at the start of the trail of blonde pubic hair. The hitch in Dean’s breath catches Sam’s attention as he looks up to see his pupils blown with lust though his eyes don’t see anything.
Sam laps at a hard nub and slowly wraps his large palm around Dean’s heavy, thick cock. He marvels at the way, it is standing to attention in his brother’s presence. Sam strokes his brother’s cock up and down with a twist at the head, leaking pre-come to ease the way down.
Sucking and biting at Dean’s nipples combined with the feel of Sam’s hand, pulls whines and whimpers from Dean’s throat. Encouraged, Sam moves further down Dean’s lean body. Sam takes the moment to admire his brother’s thick, hard cock, and the thick vein dominating the underside of his cock.
John (Sam) kisses the head and licks at the gathering pre-come. Dean moans out loud and whispers, “Oh God.”
Sam wraps his lips around the awaiting cock and smiles at the weight in his mouth. He sucks and licks and moves his head forward until he can feel it in the back of his throat. The stiffness and tension radiating off of Dean’s body and the arching off the bed as he comes down his waiting throat, screaming “Sammy.”
Sam cleans him up and lays down beside his brother. Dean turned over with his back facing him, an embarrassed flush covering his body. Sam has just helped Dean discover something hidden; a love for Sam that goes deep within his soul.
John bolts upright, gasping for air. He races towards the bathroom to release the bile that is rising up his throat. Clinging to the porcelain god, he throws up until he is dry heaving over the bowl. The very thought of fucking his own son makes him sick to his stomach.
John has never thought about being with a man ever in his life. When Mary passed away he looked for random ladies in the bars he found for relaxation from the nights hunt. He needed a way to ease the adrenaline that would pulse thickly in his veins at every hunt he went on, with or without his sons. John could find solace in the warm body of a woman and fuck her in the truck, the alley way behind the bar, and at times the motel room.
John sits there beside the toilet and leaning back against the old-fashioned tub resting on four white paws. He breaths in and out, trying to get his composure back and think clearly about what happened in his dream.
A hidden desire for men? A need to satisfy himself with the likeness of his Mary with his son? Shit! Could it be true? He pushes himself up on his feet and wobbles towards the sink. He stands there just letting the water run and the steam rise within the air fogging up the mirror in front of him. When he can move again he rests his palm against the glass before swiping his hand across the mirror to see his complete face reflecting back at him.
John stares at himself, brown eyes and dark circles looking back at him. John stares at himself in the mirror and looks for an answer regarding the dream that just freaked the shit out of him. God, he needed a woman’s body to get the disgusting clammy feel of being sexually intimate with his son. It had felt so real that the smell of sex was still heavy in the air.
Why had he dreamed that? Did he harbor some unknown attraction to men? He gave a decisive shake of his head. No, he knew himself. He was completely straight and was in love with women. No men for him, but the dream… it hadn’t lied. He knew in his blood that Dean, his Dean was into men, not just anyone: Sam, his Sammy.
God, what the hell did he do to his kids? He is shaking and shivering in his boxer shorts, so caught up in his guilt that he gets spooked when the door of his motel is slammed open and Sam is standing there in the bathroom doorway, breathing sharply from running. Any embarrassment he feels at getting caught in his boxers fades as he looks at his son. Sam looks like he feels and there is a look of acknowledgement on his son’s face.
“Dad? I – I had this…I don’t even know what to call it.” Sam says through shivering of clattered teeth.
“Sam. Sit down. I think I know what’s going on. Shit! I should have said something.” John says looking at Sam and scrubbing a hand across his face.
“What should you have said, Dad?” Sam is hesitant, concern etched on his face.
“Son, before I knew it, I – I touch a piece of the skin I got from the Captain. If I knew… fuck! If I knew I wouldn’t have touched it in the first place.” John says, defeated. This is his fault, due to his carelessness.
“Dad, we have to figure it out. I – I don’t know if I can look at Dean without seeing that nightmare. I need to find out who this person or creature is now!”
“I know – I know. I don’t think I can either. But the next dream we have can help us. Next time we can be aware and know it’s a nightmare.” John states firmly with a nod.
“Okay Dad. Okay. Meet you at the diner for dinner? Dean and I will do some research and some interviews.” Sam doesn’t wait for an answer as he walks out of the room.
“I’ll meet you at the diner.” John calls back.
John takes a quick shower and gets dressed quickly to meet up with his boys. God help him, it’s going to be hard to look his oldest son with the thoughts of his damn nightmare. He only hopes that Dean doesn’t figure it out and is too focused on the hunt to recognize the odd behaviors from himself or Sam.
Chapter Seven
Sam’s POV
They’re back at the motel, sitting at the small table with pie and ice cream, courtesy of Sam. When he made the decision to come back and join his family, it was because of the hunt, and finally making peace with the feelings he has for Dean. The dreams he was having about Dean are molded into his mind and wishes for them to come true when the moment is right. Sam is okay with this. Although now he is angry and his own stupidity. At the time it made sense; just leaving his brother without a word. Plus there was his father’s comment at the diner, about them being quite a pair whether they want to admit or not. Sam knows deep down that he is like his father, but the differences are important: Sam has the love, caring, and protectiveness within him that his father lost after his wife died in the fire.
Once they finished eating their desserts, the boys went to their own room. Sam stepped out to grab a soda from the vending machine. When he knocked on the door to their room, he was expecting Dean to answer the door, not their father. His heart pinged at the thought Dean wasn’t around, however when Sam stepped into the room, Dean was there. Taking in the sight of his brother, Sam gasps, finally realizing the pain his brother was in. Around his left eye, a purple-blue bruise bloomed, and he was hunched over as if a truck hit him in the solar plexus. It hurt like shit to see his brother like that, and Sam questions if that was really what happened. Dean has been in bar fights before, but he’d never been hurt like this. It’s more like the sparring matches with their Dad, and that thought makes Sam’s heart clench within his chest. The thought that Dean got a beating from Dad over him leaving pains him more than he can say. Dean never deserved that, no matter what the cost was to Sam. Though Dad did say he was drunk, but still that’s not a reason to beat your son, especially when he follows his every word like an obedient soldier.
It’s as if John can feel Sam’s anger towards him. Making his excuses, he leaves the two boys alone. That suits Sam just fine.
With their father gone, Sam can find out the truth about what happened while he was gone.
“Dean. How do you feel?” Sam asks peering down at Dean who is avoiding his gaze. He knows there is a chick-flick moment on the horizon, and it’s going to happen whether Dean wants it too. Sam wishes Dean would express himself instead of hiding himself from the world. Maybe now that Sam know how he feels, he can help Dean understand his own feelings, too.
“I’m fine Sammy. How about you? Like to tell me what happened?” Dean asks, concern evident in this voice. That’s Dean, not letting anything be about himself.
“Umm…Dean, I needed to get away. It’s hard to explain. And I don’t think I’m ready to share it with you – not yet, anyway. I’m sorry. I just need to figure this out on my own.” Sam tells his brother.
Dean nods. “I understand that, Sam. But shit Sammy, I panicked and wondered where the hell you went.” He turns his head towards the window and takes in a deep breath. “I thought I was the reason you left. Do you know how that feels?” Dean shares with Sam. He moves quickly to get up, away from his feelings, knocking the chair over in the process. The crash of the chair against the floor is the only sound heard. Dean begins to pace from one side of the room to the other.
“Dean! I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you, or even leave you. I just needed to get away and figure this out.” Sam slowly stands uplifting the chair back before stepping into his brother’s path to meet him eye to eye. “Why did you think it was because of you?” The small gasp that escapes Dean’s throat clearly indicates that Sam hurt his brother, and Dean isn’t quite ready for the concern and reassurance that Sam wants to give. But Sam knows Dean needs this.
“Dean. Stop and listen to me.” He tells his brother with a slight whine to his voice and his puppy dog eyes. Surely his brother can’t resist that?
Dean stops fidgeting but keeps looking down, clenching his fists until his knuckles turn white. Then he looks up and Sam can see the fear that shines through his eyes and body. The intensity makes Sam gasp in response. Sam has never seen this look before and he wonders if he and John pushed Dean too far this time if Dean thinks he deserves this.
“Sammy, if it wasn’t because of me - then tell me, please?” And Dean is begging. It breaks Sam’s heart, but he isn’t ready to share.
“Dean… All I can say is – I had this vivid dream, and it showed me what my heart wants. It freaked me out and, well, I needed some time to myself.” Sam can see the disappointment creep up on his brother’s face before it morphs into understanding. It’s not the answer Dean is looking for, but it’s a response that Dean can work with and find out later.
“Okay, Sammy. I get it. Must have been some dream to freak you out that bad. I don’t blame you for your actions, just a heads up would have been nice though.” Dean says with that grin back on his face. Sam is glad that Dean is okay for now.
“Thanks, Dean. Now tell me about the bruises?” Sam knows he’s pushing Dean here, but he needs to know.
The effect is instantaneous. Dean looks down at his feet his body shaking and his breathing becoming erratic. He takes a few steps back and looks out the window gathering his thoughts of how he should and wants to response to the question.
“It’s not his fault. He was drunk.” That tells Sam all he needs to know, but he waits for his brother. Dean sucks in a deep breath and turns his back to Sam and his body shakes even more violently as he gets himself together. “God damn it, Sammy, it was Dad. He was drunk and blamed me for you taking off. I deserved it since I probably am to blame.” Dean spits it out like they’re the dirtiest words ever to cross over his tongue. Sam watches as he licks his lips nervously. It’s a gesture that never happens until Dean is sick or injured and even then it doesn’t always happen.
Sam gasps in shock as the protectiveness he has discovered on his little adventure comes through. He crosses the room towards Dean, who has his back towards him, and wraps his long arms around his brother, trapping Dean’s arms against his sides. Dean goes tense in his arms and the hitch in his breath catches Sam’s attention.
“Dean. I’m sorry. You don’t deserve it. You never deserve to get beaten for my actions. It was my fault and my fault alone.” Sam gently soothes his brother. He’s used it before, because it calms Dean down when he is upset.
As Dean continues to tremble, he tightens his hold on Dean. A single drip of liquid lands on Sam’s hands, and he whispers reassurances into his brother’s ear.
When the tension leaves Dean’s body and he relaxes within Sam’s arms, Sam feels more tear drops landing on his hands. With a start he realizes that Dean is crying. He can feel the violent shakes against his chest, and his heartaches for his brother. In that moment, Sam’s feelings overwhelm him. He wants to change the way his father sees and acts towards Dean. Though he is not sure how John would take that, or even how Dean would react to his father finally respecting his own needs and wants. Sam wants to beat it into his father that Dean is worthy of all the things John wants for Sam.
Dean’s sobs get stronger and he tries to get away from Sam’s grasp, but Sam holds him firmly against his chest. Sam holds him until he feels a shift in Dean’s weight and realizes that his brother no longer has control over his body and collapses against Sam. The force of it brings Sam down to the floor, and he carries Dean with him until he cradles Dean in his lap and against his chest.
“Why? Why does he hate me so much? I would never make you leave, Sammy.” Dean tells Sam through his sobs and heartbreak.
“I don’t know, Dean. I know you would never do anything to make me leave.” Sam pauses to gather his thoughts. There might never be a better time to get through to his brother. “Dean, you’re a strong, a confident, and a caring person that deserves so much more in life than what you get in return. You… you mean the world to me, Dean, and I will protect you like you protect me. But you need to let me in.” Sam tells him with the love and strength that he feels pulsing through his large frame.
Dean cries on his chest and Sam rocks him back and forth on the floor of the motel. It’s the first time Sam can remember ever seeing Dean this upset and vulnerable. It breaks something inside of him, something that can only be fixed by helping Dean discover his true potential, and be the man he was always meant to be.
Once Dean falls asleep in Sam’s arms, he lowers himself completely onto the floor. Rolling Dean onto his side, Sam pillows Dean’s head against his chest. It’s been a long time since they shared a bed, the last time Sam can remember is when Dean held him after a nightmare he had when he was younger. Finally Sam is able to return the favor, for once in his life. He has the opportunity to try to tell his big brother that he is a person worthy of love. Dean deserves to have a life outside of the family business, but trying to explain that to Dean will be quite the challenge. Sam only hopes that tonight something got through to his brother.
~*~*~
Sam lays there with his brother on top of him sound asleep. The exhaustion leaves Dean’s body as he enters a deep sleep. Sam can’t imagine the emotional pain Dean is going through. He wonders if his brother will ever get over it, if he’ll be able to move on, no matter what their life will bring to them.
Sam wraps the comforter around them, a pillow lands on Dean’s legs in the process. Grasping the pillow, Sam settles it behind his head to be more comfortable on the cold hard floor of the motel. Finally he can close his eyes.
Sam feels out of place as he is seated at the small table without his laptop and newspaper articles littering his sight for their next hunt. This is his Dad’s room and this must be his dream, but he feels the muscles stretching over his bones and the neat facial hair on his face. Shit! He is John. Well, not really, but Sam is seeing his father’s dream through his father’s eyes.
Dean left about a half hour ago to pick up some much needed medical supplies, and food for dinner. It shouldn’t take his son much time to return back to the motel.
About an hour after Dean should have been back, there is a noise of the door creeps open. Dean juggles with the bags of supplies in one hand, while the other holds, what John assumes to be their dinner. Dean kicks the door closed, before placing the bags on the floor near the small table to avoid the articles of newspaper cluttering it.
Dean looks up at John and stands there like a deer caught in headlights. Eyes wide and frozen in place.
“Dean, what took you so long?” John growls.
“Umm…I had a hard time finding some of the supplies. Sorry, Dad.” Dean tells him before looking down at his shoes, ready, waits for the disappointment to come.
“You should have called. I’ve been waiting for your goddamn ass to get back. I found us a case.” Annoyance and disgust are lacing John’s voice. Why can’t Dean make a damn phone call?
“I’m – I’m sorry, Dad. Next time I’ll call. I never meant to be late.” Dean pleads with his father, resentment in his eyes.
“Next time is right, Dean! My God! Are you that dumb?” John mocks him, crowding into his space, making Dean, shrink back into the door as his father’s frame looms over him.
“N – No! I lost track of time. I’ll remember for next time.” Dean whispers still avoiding Sam’s – John’s – gaze.
“I’ll make sure you remember. Dean, look at me, you useless piece of shit.” He slams his hand into the door by the side of Dean’s head making Dean flinch even though he tries to hide it. A nasty grin curves John’s lips. “Why do I keep you with me? Huh? You’re worthless.” He pauses, basking in the guilt and shame radiating from Dean. “Oh yeah, you’re my soldier.” John rasps sarcastically at his son.
“What are you, Dean?”
Dean hesitantly lifts his head and meets John’s gaze. The fear seeps out of Dean and he responds in a manner that is pure sweetness.
“I’m your soldier and I must follow your orders, Sir.” He sighs and takes a deep breath in, letting it out before continuing. “My role is to do what you ask me to do and never question them. Be a good soldier. If not – not – I shall be punished.” Dean pushes it out and shakily unbuttons his jeans and slides them down towards his ankles. He must be commando at all times.
“That’s right Dean. And you didn’t follow a rule. You will be punished.” John says matter of flatly and sneers seeing the fear heighten in his son.
John pulls his fist back and punches Dean in the face. Dean recoils and John sweeps his legs out from under him. Dean takes a fall and lands hard on the wooden floor as the wind is knocked out of him. Dean tries to get up, but John launches himself on top of Dean, straddling his waist.
Dean looks up at him with tears filling his eyes, not yet leaving to roll down his reddened cheek. His lip is split open and John slaps his son’s face to open the cut more. The tears start rolling as he whimpers, “Stop, I’m sorry.”
It fuels John more and his palm strikes Dean’s solar plexus multiple times, listening to the whimpers escaping his son’s broken lips. Dean writhes in pain and tries to cover the injuries with his right arm that gotten lose from John’s grasp.
John sees his arm move and knows where it’s heading. He grabs Dean’s wrist and squeezes as hard as he can. Dean screams out in pain and bucks his hips trying to get his father off of him.
“Dad! Stop! I’m sorry! It’ll never happen again!” Dean shouts and tries to move his hand again.
But John just tightens his hold and lifts it up, only to slam it into the floor beneath them. Dean shouts out and struggles to get loose as John smirks down at his son.
“What’s the matter, Dean? Can’t fight me like when we are training, huh? Now it’s my turn to show you what I can really do.” John’s expression darkens as he watches the fear pulse through Dean.
John cranks his arm down towards Dean’s shoulder while twisting it roughly and the sound of “pop” and “fuck” punctuating the screams of pain from Dean. Using one hand, John keeps Dean’s arm in position, and with his other he begins to punch his gut until his son can no longer breathe. He gets off his son’s body and pulls the arm he knows is broken to flip Dean over onto his stomach. The arm stays twisted brokenly on his back even as Dean continues to shout and scream in agony. Dean tries to kick out, but John easily evades it before kicking back at his son’s broken body. His foot lands heavily on Dean’s stomach until he slams his large booted foot against his head and knocks his son unconscious.
John stands up and picks his son’s limp form off the ground and slams it onto one of the beds. Dean’s face is bloody and his lip is split wide open. It will need stitches though John will wait until morning to fix that. A pleased smile reaches John’s face, as he stares at the broken man before him. Dean has been antsy and distracted ever since his brother took off for no reason. John isn’t willing to lose another son, he needs his soldier to stay.
John strides over to the mini fridge and pulls out a beer. Twisting the cap off and taking a sip of the bitter ale. He swipes his blood-stained hands off on a towel, grabs his meal from the bag, and gets back to his research.
Sam bolts up-right, residual fear pulses beneath his skin. The images of Dean are still behind his eyes and he whimpers before turning towards Dean who is laying on the floor and sleeping, wrapped within the comforter. Sam needs to check to see his injuries. Shuffling close, Sam stares at his brother. Dean’s face is filled with freckles and there is a touch of pink on his cheeks. Except for his black eye, his face is in perfect condition: he was never beaten to a pulp. He places his fingers against Dean’s neck to check for a pulse and its calm beat soothes Sam. Oh thank God! Sam never beat the shit out of Dean. In his dreams that felt so real, it felt as if Sam hurt his brother for not following orders, punishing him for not following them at any cost.
Sam runs to the bathroom and vomits into the toilet.
~*~*~
John’s POV
Down the hall from the boys, John lays on the bed, hands tucked behind his head. The television is on and turned down low on some action movie. The ceiling fan rattles on high and his beer sits on the end table with a small lamp and clock upon it.
John drowns the rest of his beer and gets comfortable on the bed, short enough, that his feet hang off. Sam has the same problem, takes after John with his height; while Dean…his oldest is much more like Mary, the love of his life.
His thoughts take a darker turn as he thinks of Mary. They had a plan, a future, and it was taken away by the yellow-eyed demon that had plans for Sam. When he’s not consumed with his thoughts of revenge, he wonders about those plans. He has no idea what they are, but them seem to include Dean. It’s with a heavy heart that he realizes the boys will need to discover it on their own.
Deep down John is disgusted by the thought of his boys being more than brothers (based on their interactions and closeness), but with their life, it’s not that far from the truth. Thinking about it (and wishing he wasn’t) he comes to the conclusion that Sam would be the one to have more than brotherly feelings for Dean, since his oldest took care of Sam and gave him what he needed when John couldn’t. Though if Dean let someone into his heart, that person would be Sam. Sam already belongs there; it’s only a matter of time until Dean opens up and sees what is right in front of him. Someone who loves him unconditionally.
John focuses on the rattling of the ceiling fan and the soft hum of the television lulls him to sleep.
John feels out of place in the motel room, sitting at the table waiting for the person he picked up at the bar. Once he sees the motel door opening, he’s on his feet in a flash, slamming the body against the wall. Beneath him are the strong, hard lines of a man. A man, what the hell, no way. Who the hell is this? Raking his hand across his face and the feel of smooth skin makes his heart race. The added height and long, shaggy brown hair falling into his face, John knows. He’s his son, he is Sam.
Sam slams his lips upon the man and hears the moans escaping into his mouth. He can feel the man’s erection against his hip locked in confines of his denim. Sam pushes his hips forward and a hiss of excitement escapes his lips, the need of feeling a man against him since he will never have Dean. This is what he needs and wants.
Sam wastes no time in taking the man’s flannel shirt, unbuttoning until he is able to push it off the guy’s lean shoulders. He lifts the hem of the undershirt, ripping it up and over the man’s head. The man’s breathing quickens with excitement and anticipation for more. It sends an electric shock through Sam’s body as he places his large palm on the man’s beating heart, lowering his hand to trace the curves of his abdominal muscles. There is a hitch of the guys breathe when John releases the buckle of his belt.
“S – S – Sam.” The voice whispers with lust and nerves.
John (Sam) stops, hands holding the opened buckle, and hesitantly looks up, “D – Dean. Is that you?” Sam asks, knowing all too well, it is.
“Ye – Yeah Sam. What – What are you? What are w – we doing?” Dean asks nervously and slightly scared.
Sam fully takes in his brother’s appearance. His body has gone rigid, his face is pinched and turned away, even as his eyes flicker a cross between fear and want. Sam’s eyes narrow as Dean, turns to look at him, but unable to meet his gaze, anxiously waiting for an answer.
“D – Dean. I need you. I need to be with you, man – to fill this ache in my chest. I won’t hurt you and I will take care of you. I – I just need.” Sam answers his brother, honestly, displaying his vulnerability. Sam hopes that Dean understands why he needs to be with Dean.
John (Sam) continues to pull open the belt through the loops, letting it fall to the floor. He uses his thumb to release the button and slowly pulls the zipper down. Sam realizes his brother is flaccid within his jeans. He wants to change that quite quickly because this could be his only chance. Sam wants to pleasure his brother as much as he wants to pleasure himself though his heart aches at what he will be taking from Dean. He is fulfilling a need and using his brother to achieve this goal, even if it’s what he wants for them.
Dean gasps and stiffens his body as he realizes what will happen. His head slams back against the wall, showing his submission to his brother’s wants and needs. Despite his willingness, he is clearly unsure of what this hidden secret means.
John (Sam’s) hand slip beneath the waistband of Dean’s boxers and jeans. He slides them down his bowed legs letting them pool at his feet. Dean shivers and his breathing gets raspy as he confirms that something is really going to happen. Sam leans forward and capture’s Dean’s lips in a chaste kiss as he brings his hands around to cup his brother’s round globes of flesh. Dean steps out of his clothing and hesitantly follows as Sam deepens the kiss and moves them closer to the bed.
Sam turns them around until he pushes Dean down onto the bed with a glint in his eyes that is pure lust.
Sam crawls up onto the bed and his gaze is locked with Dean’s. Dean’s eyes reflect his lust, although there is also fear shining through unshed tears. Ignoring that, Sam wastes no time in claiming his brother’s lips in a hungry kiss.
Sam can hear the slight whimpers, and he grinds down to show Dean how much he is wanted and needed at the moment. The confusion on Dean’s face is clearly understandable when Sam can feel his brother’s cock begin to swell and harden at the motion and intimate touch.
Sam deepens the kiss and pulls his flannel shirt wide open, buttons flying around the room. Sam kisses along his jawline as he makes his way towards the back of Dean’s ear. The unexpected moan of pleasure puts him on hold, gently trailing his hand down his brother’s firm chest towards his impressive cock.
Dean has his eyes shut tight and heat upon his skin. The tense lines his face and chest reflect the unwilling pleasure of being with a man, not necessarily his brother. Sam slowly, gently, rests his hand at the bottom of Dean’s belly, at the start of the trail of blonde pubic hair. The hitch in Dean’s breath catches Sam’s attention as he looks up to see his pupils blown with lust though his eyes don’t see anything.
Sam laps at a hard nub and slowly wraps his large palm around Dean’s heavy, thick cock. He marvels at the way, it is standing to attention in his brother’s presence. Sam strokes his brother’s cock up and down with a twist at the head, leaking pre-come to ease the way down.
Sucking and biting at Dean’s nipples combined with the feel of Sam’s hand, pulls whines and whimpers from Dean’s throat. Encouraged, Sam moves further down Dean’s lean body. Sam takes the moment to admire his brother’s thick, hard cock, and the thick vein dominating the underside of his cock.
John (Sam) kisses the head and licks at the gathering pre-come. Dean moans out loud and whispers, “Oh God.”
Sam wraps his lips around the awaiting cock and smiles at the weight in his mouth. He sucks and licks and moves his head forward until he can feel it in the back of his throat. The stiffness and tension radiating off of Dean’s body and the arching off the bed as he comes down his waiting throat, screaming “Sammy.”
Sam cleans him up and lays down beside his brother. Dean turned over with his back facing him, an embarrassed flush covering his body. Sam has just helped Dean discover something hidden; a love for Sam that goes deep within his soul.
John bolts upright, gasping for air. He races towards the bathroom to release the bile that is rising up his throat. Clinging to the porcelain god, he throws up until he is dry heaving over the bowl. The very thought of fucking his own son makes him sick to his stomach.
John has never thought about being with a man ever in his life. When Mary passed away he looked for random ladies in the bars he found for relaxation from the nights hunt. He needed a way to ease the adrenaline that would pulse thickly in his veins at every hunt he went on, with or without his sons. John could find solace in the warm body of a woman and fuck her in the truck, the alley way behind the bar, and at times the motel room.
John sits there beside the toilet and leaning back against the old-fashioned tub resting on four white paws. He breaths in and out, trying to get his composure back and think clearly about what happened in his dream.
A hidden desire for men? A need to satisfy himself with the likeness of his Mary with his son? Shit! Could it be true? He pushes himself up on his feet and wobbles towards the sink. He stands there just letting the water run and the steam rise within the air fogging up the mirror in front of him. When he can move again he rests his palm against the glass before swiping his hand across the mirror to see his complete face reflecting back at him.
John stares at himself, brown eyes and dark circles looking back at him. John stares at himself in the mirror and looks for an answer regarding the dream that just freaked the shit out of him. God, he needed a woman’s body to get the disgusting clammy feel of being sexually intimate with his son. It had felt so real that the smell of sex was still heavy in the air.
Why had he dreamed that? Did he harbor some unknown attraction to men? He gave a decisive shake of his head. No, he knew himself. He was completely straight and was in love with women. No men for him, but the dream… it hadn’t lied. He knew in his blood that Dean, his Dean was into men, not just anyone: Sam, his Sammy.
God, what the hell did he do to his kids? He is shaking and shivering in his boxer shorts, so caught up in his guilt that he gets spooked when the door of his motel is slammed open and Sam is standing there in the bathroom doorway, breathing sharply from running. Any embarrassment he feels at getting caught in his boxers fades as he looks at his son. Sam looks like he feels and there is a look of acknowledgement on his son’s face.
“Dad? I – I had this…I don’t even know what to call it.” Sam says through shivering of clattered teeth.
“Sam. Sit down. I think I know what’s going on. Shit! I should have said something.” John says looking at Sam and scrubbing a hand across his face.
“What should you have said, Dad?” Sam is hesitant, concern etched on his face.
“Son, before I knew it, I – I touch a piece of the skin I got from the Captain. If I knew… fuck! If I knew I wouldn’t have touched it in the first place.” John says, defeated. This is his fault, due to his carelessness.
“Dad, we have to figure it out. I – I don’t know if I can look at Dean without seeing that nightmare. I need to find out who this person or creature is now!”
“I know – I know. I don’t think I can either. But the next dream we have can help us. Next time we can be aware and know it’s a nightmare.” John states firmly with a nod.
“Okay Dad. Okay. Meet you at the diner for dinner? Dean and I will do some research and some interviews.” Sam doesn’t wait for an answer as he walks out of the room.
“I’ll meet you at the diner.” John calls back.
John takes a quick shower and gets dressed quickly to meet up with his boys. God help him, it’s going to be hard to look his oldest son with the thoughts of his damn nightmare. He only hopes that Dean doesn’t figure it out and is too focused on the hunt to recognize the odd behaviors from himself or Sam.
Chapter Seven