Fic: Making Choices (part six) - Wincest - NC-17

[gestaltrose]

Honor isn't about making the right choices. It's about dealing with the consequences. ~Author Unknown
September 1998
Dean is 19
Harry is 18
Sam is 16

Severus got them there but he told them to hide as a woman walked out to meet him. Blending into the shadows, they waited until Severus and the woman had gone inside before they slipped around the back of the house. They entered and found a blond boy, simply waiting. Dean had never seen anyone so pale. Harry had tensed up beside him but Dean didn’t spare him more than a glance. They couldn’t afford to be distracted.

“Where is my brother?” Harry asked, pointing his wand at the blond. The boy shook so hard Dean thought he might just collapse right there, but he gestured down the hall. Something was wrong. Well, more wrong, considering.

“Cancel a spell,” Dean told Harry.

“What?”

“Just cancel a fucking spell,” Dean snapped and Harry said, “Finite Incantatem.”

The blond collapsed on the floor in front of them. Dean moved closer and Harry got in front of him, wand out.

“You need to get out,” the boy said. “Trap.”

“We know. Where is our brother? Where is your father?”

Dean looked at Harry and figured out that this was the young Malfoy. He must look an awful lot like his dad if Harry recognized him.

“Prison. They said they could get him out if I came home, but they just cast Imperious on me the minute I Apparated in. You-Know-Who is here, waiting for you.”

Dean was about to snap the boy in two when the bond flared up between Sam and them. He knew exactly where Sam was. Turning, he started down a hall. The blond ran after them. “You’ll have a better chance if it seems like you’re my prisoners. Are you really Potter?” he asked Harry.

Making an instant decision he hoped he wouldn’t regret, he decided to trust the scared young man. “Dean, Harry,” he introduced them.

“Draco,” the blond said. “You wouldn’t happen to have a spare wand on you? It’s just, it’ll look more convincing and m..m..mine was broken.”

Harry looked at Dean and they both felt the urgent need to get to Sam and Dean was willing to do anything at that point to make it happen. Harry slipped Sam’s wand out of an inside pocket on his jacket. Handing it to Draco, they put their hands behind their backs like they were tied and let him lead them deep into the manor.

Knowing that they had deviated from the plan, Dean just hoped that luck was with them this one time. Harry flinched beside him and Dean nudged him with his elbow.

“He’s angry,” Harry muttered. “I think someone was spotted.”

Dean nodded and tried to help Harry out, pulling pain down the line until his head felt like it was going to explode. Dean had no idea how Harry dealt with this on a regular basis.

“Halt,” someone called from up ahead of them.

“New prisoners for the Dark Lord,” Draco said fairly monotone.

“Oh, it’s you. Go on, then.” He motioned Draco on. As soon as Draco was behind him, he hit the guard with a stunner and Harry bound and gagged him. The wooden paneled hall gave way to stone as they walked downwards.

Draco didn’t need to tell them when they got to Sam’s cell, both Harry and Dean knew it. They got the cell open and Sam stared at them like they were ghosts. Dean and Harry stared at Sam in horror. He was bruised and bleeding so bad that Dean was surprised he could stand.

“D..D..Dean?” Sam stuttered. Dean was livid. Whoever had done this to Sam would pay.

“Sammy,” Dean said, watching in horror as Sam raised a clearly broken arm that was attached to the wall behind him. All of Sam’s arms and legs were chained. Harry quickly released him and Dean held his hand out for Sam’s wand. Draco debated for a moment, thinking about turning on them, Dean could tell. However, he stiffened his spine and handed the wand over to Dean.

Pushing the wand into Sam’s hand, just to make him feel safer, Dean murmured over all of his wounds. Later Sam told them about how he’d fought back until they’d given up and just chained him to the wall. He thought he might have killed a few people, but he wasn’t sure.

Draco leading the way, they headed back up towards an exit, any exit. Dean was feeling stronger than he had been. Sam beside him and Harry on his other side made him feel whole. They stepped into a foyer and Harry reached out and clawed at Dean’s side. Turning, he’d barely had time to catch him before he hit the ground.

“He knows, Dean. Oh fuck, he knows,” Harry said, holding his hand up to his head.

Draco started to hyperventilate at Harry’s words. Dean reached out and put his hand on Draco’s arm. “We’re going to get out of here, all of us. Come on.” He pulled Harry to his feet and Draco gave him a shaky nod before moving again.

They had made it outside and almost past the wards so they could portkey when a cold voice spoke out of the darkness to their right. “Potter,” it hissed.

Dean pulled up short as Harry nearly dragged him to the ground. Harry was in so much pain and Dean couldn’t help. Instead he let Sam take care of Harry and Dean stood between them and the man that was responsible for all of this. Draco was frozen in fear and Dean dragged him behind him, too.

“What are you going to do? You have no magic. You have nothing.”

Dean could sense more than hear Sam and Harry stand up behind him. Then there was a cold hard weight in the back of his pants and he knew what he needed to do. “I’ve got more than you ever had,” Dean mocked Voldemort, waiting for the perfect opportunity. He didn’t know how Dad had managed to get the colt to him but he wasn’t going to lose the opportunity.

“More of what? Nothing, you’ve got nothing, you are nothing.” Red eyes bore into his and Dean knew that if he had just a bit more magic the man would be tearing his way through Dean’s mind. As it was, Dean was too near a squib for it to matter- the attempts just kept failing.

“Non timebo mala.”

Voldemort threw back his head in laughter. It was a hissing, unpleasant sound that Dean could go his entire life without hearing again. “Was that supposed to be a spell?”

Dean had the gun out and pointed at Voldemort. “No,” he said, and pulled the trigger.

Dad had made sure that they salted and burned the body, along with the snake that had been his familiar. They had dropped dead at the same time. Dean didn’t know that because he had been completely focused on keeping Harry alive and Sam sane.

It seemed that Harry had been tied tighter to Voldemort than they had thought and, when he died, he dragged Harry with him but Dean wouldn’t let him go. Dean had lost or sacrificed almost everything for his family. He was damned if he would just let them go without a fight.

Fight he had, pushing all of his love down the link to Harry, and Sam, too. He couldn’t do this without them. He needed them. He loved them.

Sam sat sobbing by Harry’s hand in the infirmary at Hogwarts. They had healed all of the physical wounds, but Dean knew there were others still there. Sam had a small break down and told him what had happened.

“At first I was expecting you guys to show up right away. But after Voldemort came and saw me, I was hoping you wouldn’t. He crawled around inside my brain, called me perverted, offered me as a piece of ass to his Death Eaters.” Sam’s voice was quiet and calm.

Dean felt his muscles bunch under his skin. He wanted to kill the son of a bitch again. Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm himself. Dean didn’t want to be calm; this was his little brother and someone had hurt him bad. But Dean knew that if he blew up then Sam would just shut up. He needed to listen and not react.

“Th. .th. . they raped me. They hurt me. There was this woman . . . did you know there’s a spell to make you hard?” Sam asked. Dean made quiet negative noises, trying to encourage Sam to keep on talking.

“They cursed me while they fucked me, said . . . said it made it tighter.” Sam closed his eyes and Dean wished more than anything that Harry was awake. Reaching out, he grasped on to Sam’s hand. “After a while I was so relieved when they didn’t curse me, it made me hard.” He laughed a laugh that was more than halfway to a sob.

“I hate them. I hate them. They hurt me and made me like it and I hate them.” Tears started rolling down Sam’s face. Dean didn’t know what to say, knowing that anything that came out of his mouth right now would sound idiotic. He just held on to his brothers.

Sam had pushed everything away so he could focus on Harry. Dean had watched him do it. He despaired. How was he supposed to make this better?

Dean was holding onto Harry’s other hand as someone put a hand on his shoulder. It was so comforting that he assumed it was Dad, but then magic began to flow into him from the contact. Dean lifted his eyes to meet the sparkling blue ones of Dumbledore.

“He’s lost,” Sam said.

“Then we must light his way home,” Dumbledore said and sent more magic into Dean. “Well?”

Well what? Dean wanted to ask, but before he could open his mouth, he knew what he needed to do. Looking up at Sam, who suddenly had hope in his eyes for the first time since Harry fell, Dean nodded. He pushed the magic down his bonds with Sam and Harry, imagining the brightest light following it. Closing his eyes against the bright light that imposed a negative on his eyesight for a moment, he held his breath as the last of the shared magic left him.

Harry moaned and it was all Dean could do not to whoop with joy. The nurse at the school, medi-witch, Dean thought she was called, came over to see what was going on. She cast a spell on Harry and then smiled. Dean felt his knees weaken with the smile.

“He’s going to be fine. I don’t know if I can say the same thing for your dad.”

Dean looked over at the bed across the ward; their Dad had taken more than one curse. He was awake and looking just fine. Dean looked back at the nurse with confusion plain on his face.

“He’s a horrible patient. I may have to kill him to get him to stay still long enough to heal,” she said with a smile that made Dean relax.

“He always has been,” Dean agreed with her quietly.

“I heard that, traitor,” Dad said.

“Well, Mr. Winchester, I will make sure you are healed fully before you leave.”

Dean didn’t want to argue with the woman and apparently neither did Dad, who just grunted. Looking back at Harry, Dean saw his eyes were open.

“There was this light,” Harry said with a smile.

“Imagine that,” Dean said, smiling back.

When Dean woke up most mornings, he was sure that the whole thing was just a horrible dream; that Sam hadn’t been taken, that Harry and Sam both hadn’t nearly died and that the horrible things that had happened to Sam was just a nightmare.

But then Sam would whimper next to him and Dean would curl around his brother and remind him that he was safe. Harry would press up against the front of him and do the same thing. It hadn’t taken Dad that long to be okay with them sleeping together, seeing as the first night they got Sammy back, he screamed for hours, his voice going before anyone could calm him.

Dean still didn’t know everything that had happened to his brother, but what he did know made him want to go back to kill the bastards that did this to him all over again.

Nana said Sammy wasn’t crazy, just hurt, and that they had the best chance to heal him. She offered to let them stay with her but Dad had insisted they find their own place. Dad actually got a job at a shop, and Dean and Harry stayed home and took care of Sam.

Sometimes Sam would be there with them, talking and joking, and other times it was like he wasn’t even in his body. At first Sam withdrew from everyone, but Harry somehow managed to get through to him. They spoke about visions and premonitions and real and illusions, about pain and how relieved they were that the people who had done this were dead and about how horrible they felt about being relieved. Dean didn’t understand it, but Sammy was way more complicated than he’d been before, which was saying a whole lot.

Bobby said Sam should go see a shrink but who the hell could they trust? Dean asked Nana if she knew someone or something that could help. Time, she told him. Give him time.

Slowly, Sam and Harry grew closer as both of them healed. Dean watched it happen, he felt it happen, and he was happy for his brothers that maybe they had found a way to whole again.

Sam went back to school in early November. Harry and Dean both watching as he left, worry in their eyes. Dad had insisted that Sam try to get back to a routine. Dean suspected it was because Dad was getting antsy. Dean had killed the bastard that had been after Harry, but there was still the thing that took their mom. It was out there and now that he had the Colt, the gun that could kill anything, he was determined to take care of things. Dean could see it in his eyes when he cleaned and reloaded the guns, when he laid the salt out, when he stood looking at Sam.

Dean withdrew as much as he could from the links that they shared. Guilt for letting them take Sam, for nearly killing Harry, ate at him.

“I have had it,” Harry said one morning after they had watched Sam leave.

Dean looked at him, wondering what was wrong now, wondering if he had the energy to deal with it.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Harry snapped at him.

Dean felt his eyebrows rise in surprise. Him? Something was wrong with him? He was trying his best to survive, to make sure that Harry and Sam were taken care of, and there was something wrong with him?

“I know you think you fucked up. You’re our guardian and you think you failed Sam, that you failed me, but we found him because of you and right now you’re failing both of us.”

He thought that he should be angry, be defensive, but Harry was right. He had failed Sam and Harry. He didn’t know how he was ever going to make that better.

Harry spoke quietly. “You did not fail us. Damn it, you saved both us, but you have got to stop pulling back. It hurts, Dean.”

He hadn’t even thought that they had noticed. “But you two . . .” Dean started to say.

Harry quickly interrupted. “Us three, Dean. It’s the three of us, and before that it was the two of you. You are the most constant thing in Sam’s life and you’re running away. Come here,” Harry said and Dean suddenly felt like the deer in the headlights.

Moving out of the window and over to the couch, Harry led Dean and sat him down. It was almost like an out-of-body experience. He was moving around with no control over his body. He wondered if Harry was pulling something on him, but when he really thought about it, it wasn’t like Harry was making him do anything.

“What?” Dean said.

Harry moved closer, putting his hand up to Dean’s face. “Why?” he asked. “Why don’t you touch me? Why don’t you touch Sam? We need you. You’re pulling back and pushing us away.”

Dean wished he didn’t feel so weak, so helpless. How could he try to tell them that he was the wrong person for guardian? They had picked the wrong person.

“No, Dean,” Sam said from the entryway into the kitchen. “You’re the right one. You just have to believe in me, believe in us.”

“What?”

“You pulled me,” Sam whispered as he walked into the room. “It’s the first time since you woke Harry that I felt anything from you with the bond. I was afraid you broke it and didn’t want to tell me.” He finished talking, knees on the floor, his head in Dean’s lap.

Dean stroked Sam’s hair. “I’m sorry,” he said, although he wasn’t sure what he was sorry for. Harry pulled him close for a kiss, and Dean made a huffing sound that had Sam lifting his head to watch. Pulling back, Harry turned his head to look at Sam.

“Look at him,” he told Dean, touching his jaw.

Turning his head, he looked at Sam.

“No. Look at him,” Harry said.

Dean did. He looked, really looked, at Sam for the first time since they had saved him. He’d been all wrapped up in how much he’d let Sam down that he couldn’t face him. His guilt wouldn’t let him. Now, his eyes met Sam’s and he wasn’t sure what he saw, but it wasn’t blame.

Sam moved, shoving Dean’s legs apart and moving between them. “You saved me,” he said, reaching out and touching Dean’s cheek. He wrapped his long fingers around the back of Dean’s neck, his thumb still on his cheek. Dean wondered again how in the hell his baby brother had gotten so big. “If you really don’t want to do this . . .” Sam said as he leaned in.

Grabbing Sam’s shirt, Dean pulled him against his chest. “I never said I didn’t want to,” he said and kissed Sam. It was better than he remembered it being. His tongue swirled and dipped around Sam’s, teeth bit and they were both grabbing each other’s face. Sam ended up straddling Dean, licking his way into Dean’s mouth.

Sam broke the kiss and reached over to where Harry had moved, pulling him towards them. “Sam,” Harry said, obviously trying to stay out of what was happening. Dean slid his hand up Harry’s arm to his shoulder, pulling on him, too.

Looking at Dean and Sam, Harry had a hopeful expression on his face. Dean gave him a slow nod. He could do this. He wanted to. He needed to. Harry leaned in and kissed Sam and then Dean, leaving both of them panting.

“Bedroom?” Harry suggested. Sam quickly crawled off of Dean and was holding out a hand to help him up. It gave Dean a moment to think about whether this was the right thing to do. The smile on Sam’s face began to fall and Dean made up his mind. Reaching out, he took Sam’s hand. Sam pulled him up and they stood, breathing each other’s air for a moment.

Harry took both of their hands and led them down the hall to their bedroom. Dean was pushed up against the wall by a semi-desperate Sam.

“Oh god, Dean,” he muttered as he kissed down Dean’s throat and pulled at his t-shirt. Dean let himself be manhandled by Sam, just holding on to his shoulders. Harry stepped up behind Sam and pressed him into Dean while sliding his hands up Sam’s stomach. “Please,” Sam begged.

“Shhh, Sammy,” Dean said, and pulled him close for a kiss. “It’s okay,” he tried to reassure his little brother. He gave Harry a look over Sam’s shoulder that apparently got his thought across, because Harry had his wand out and banished their clothes. Sam gasped at the unexpected nakedness and Dean ran his hands up Sam’s arms, leaving goose bumps behind.

Dean couldn’t believe, not really, that this was happening. He had dreamed about it so often that he wasn’t sure if it was real or just another dream. Sam reached between them and wrapped his nimble fingers around Dean’s cock and he decided he didn’t care.

Moving the three of them towards the bed, Dean stopped as Harry’s knees bumped. Climbing on the bed, Harry looked at the two of them.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said and then he took his glasses off and set them on the bedside table.

Sam buried his head in Dean’s neck. Dean ran his hand up and down Sam’s back, letting his fingers trail down and touch his ass. Sam groaned and started whispering pleas against Dean’s neck. Dean gave into temptation, cupping Sam’s ass and pulling him hard against him. Their cocks rubbed and they both moaned as Dean’s fingers touched Sam’s hole.

Dean heard a whispered spell and looked over at Harry, who just grinned at him. His fingers brushed Sam’s hole again and came away wet. Sam moaned as Dean pressed his finger slowly into him. Pulling his finger out, he pushed Sam onto the bed. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right.

Looking up at him, Sam spread his legs for Dean to crawl between them. Harry leaned down and kissed Sam as Dean sucked Sam’s cock into his mouth. Dean could feel a slight pressure of magic pushing down on him. He looked up at Harry and Sam and decided it was the bond, reestablishing itself again.

Dean sucked on Sam, wrapping his hand around his cock and then licking it like a lollypop. He pressed one finger and then two into his youngest brother, listening to Sam’s hitching breath. Sam was so tight around his fingers that the thought of what he wanted to do to him, had Dean nearly coming, his cock jumping against his belly.

Pressing upwards, Dean easily found Sam’s prostate. Sucking Sam down to the base of his cock, Dean ran his fingers alongside the skin covering the sensitive spot. Sam pressed upwards into his mouth and Dean tried not to grin around Sam’s cock. Slowly, he stroked his brother closer to orgasm, pushing three fingers into Sam. Sam was moaning incoherently, getting closer and closer to losing control. Dean heard Harry whisper something into Sam’s ear and that was it, he clutched at the blanket and thrust up into Dean’s mouth, his cock pulsing as he came. Dean swallowed.

Sam pulled at him and Dean came off of his dick with a slurp. Pulling him up, first Sam kissed him and then Harry did, both of them moaning at the taste of Sam in his mouth.

“You really want to do this?” Dean couldn’t help but ask, fearful of the memories it might bring up.

“Oh, hell yes,” Sam said, pulling him in for another kiss. Dean sat up and, lifting Sam’s legs, placed his cock at Sam’s hole, slowly pushing, watching as Sam relaxed and let him in. Stopping and letting Sam adjust around him, Dean was kissed by Harry who murmured in his ear.

“You wanna know what I told Sam?”

Dean nodded and Harry got up and pressed against the back of him, his cock rubbing against Dean’s ass. “I told him I was going to fuck you while you fucked him.”

Dean groaned and looked down at Sam, who was staring up at him, love in his eyes. “You want?” he asked Sam.

Sam nodded and it was Dean’s turn to moan. He pulled out so that Sam was stretched around the head of his cock. “Fuck,” he muttered and pushed back in. Harry slid around behind him and snuggled up against his back.

“You want?” he repeated Dean’s question as his hard dick rubbed against Dean’s ass.

He gasped as Harry moved back and ran his fingers down Dean’s crack to his hole and lower to cup his balls. Harry whispered a spell again and this time Dean was the one who was wet. Slipping in one finger and then quickly two, Harry took his time as Dean rocked back on his fingers and then into his brother.

Dean paused as Harry moved and positioned his cock at Dean’s hole, slowly pushing in. Sam’s eyes widened as Dean got even harder inside him. Moving slowly, Dean let Harry set the rhythm, pushing and pulling, giving and taking, and Dean’s head was spinning.

He could feel the magic building around him, inside of him. It wasn’t his, he hardly had enough to count, but the bond and their closeness, mentally and physically, was amplifying everything.

Every breath, every touch, it was overwhelming. He was swimming in sensations. Harry kissed his neck and Dean almost came from that. Sam brushed his fingers across Dean’s chest. It felt like sandpaper and silk at the same time. Dean whimpered.

“Come on,” Harry said, pushing into him and pushing him into Sam.

Dean slid his hand across Sam’s hard cock. Sam tightened down on him and Dean lost what control he had. Fucking into Sam and back onto Harry, Dean set a ragged, sloppy pace until he couldn’t control himself anymore, shuddering as he came, hot and wet into Sam as Sam came, messy and hot between them.

Harry paused, his cock still rock hard in Dean’s ass. Gripping Dean’s hips, he fucked hard into him. The magic that was there all around suddenly filled Dean as Harry came. Gasping at the feeling of love and oneness with everything, but especially with his brothers, Dean fell against Sam.

Harry pulled out and rolled beside Sam as Dean slid off the other side. Maybe things weren’t perfect or, by the longest stretch of imagination, normal, but they were good. And maybe good was enough, Dean thought, as he snuggled against Sam, entwining his fingers with Harry’s. Sam was getting better, Dean was getting better and Harry was just Harry.

Someone muttered a spell and they were all cleaned up, Sam snug between Dean and Harry.

Dean knew it was only a matter of time before Dad started hunting again. Knowing that Dad wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving Sam, he would probably be coming with them. That would go over like a lead balloon unless . . . Dean considered that Sam might feel safer if they were all around.

‘Time,’ Harry mouthed at him and Dean held in a sigh. Time. They would just have to wait and see. Dean nodded slightly at Harry and snuggled in close to Sam, laying his head on Sam’s shoulder. Sam’s arm came around him and pulled him close. Dean could feel his fingers digging into his arms.

“Shh,” Dean hushed Sam, calming him down. He nuzzled Sam’s neck, breathing in the smell that he’d been afraid he’d never smell again. Sam was here, Harry was here and Dean was here. That would be enough. It would have to be.
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