FIC - How Sam Got...Here
Title: How Sam Got…Here
Author: verucasalt123
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
W/C: ~2,000
Warnings: incest, disturbing imagery, possible non-con (not graphic), explicit sex (100% consensual)
A/N: Written for this year’s evilsam_spn summer writing challenge. Prompt is “The Future” by Leonard Cohen
The thing with Sam, how he ended up where he was, really, it wasn’t his fault.
Well…okay, so maybe that’s not entirely precise. To rephrase and give the statement a bit more veracity:
The thing with Sam, how he ended up who he was, really, it wasn’t his fault.
All right, let’s make it fair and say that it probably wasn’t entirely his fault.
At the very least, it must be acknowledged that he did not, as an infant, choose to be fed the blood of the demon Azazel. Sam did not ever want to be the boy with the demon blood; more accurately one of the boys and girls with demon blood, chosen carefully by Azazel to lead his army when the time was right, which wouldn’t be until more than twenty years later. Also, for most of his life, Sam did not have any aspirations to become, one day, the Boy King of Hell, or to do anything more exciting with his life than go to school, get married, have kids, work a normal job, and hope not to lose his family in the process.
The point, here, is that Sam didn’t fucking ask for this shit, okay?
As soon as he realized what they were, Sam told Dean about the visions. At first it was scary, but overall helpful in finding people they could save and also people who had been selected to be part of Azazel’s special group. They were all in possession of some kind of power; some that had a positive impact on their lives in some way, even though they were unexplainable and scary, and some that were downright terrifying.
There wasn’t anything Sam didn’t share with Dean. They’d been intimate before Sam left for school, and had resumed those activities not too long after they got back on the road together. So when the visions started to change, even though he knew Dean was uncomfortable about him possessing any kind of supernatural powers at all, Sam told him anyway. Who else was he going to tell? He couldn’t just ignore it, closing his eyes and seeing such bizarre sights: a dead woman hanging upside down, her dress falling to obscure her features; people surrounded by an almost blinding white light dancing around huge fires in the middle of major roads or interstates; sometimes a city decimated as if by a nuclear weapon like the pictures he’d seen in history books of World War II, but completely covered in snow, almost impossible to make out individual structures in the blizzard of the vision.
At first, Dean was distant, seemed cold and indifferent when Sam told him these things. It made him so fucking afraid that if all this kept getting worse, he wouldn’t be able to save his little brother, a thought he’d really just rather not have at all. But once he saw how badly the ugly pictures in Sam’s head were affecting him physically and emotionally, he let down his guard, gave in to his default mode of comforting Sam; holding him, kissing his tears away and then pulling him into a tender embrace, giving all he had to their lovemaking. Most of the many troubles Sam had run into over the years, Dean had always been able to at least try to fix them. But this…Dean couldn’t fix it, so he settled for trying to calm his brother with kisses that made them both weak in the knees, whispered I love yous while he held Sam down by his shoulders and fucked him face to face without ever breaking eye contact, letting Sam take his time opening Dean with his tongue and fingers before sliding his cock into Dean’s ready and willing hole against the tiles in the motel room shower.
It couldn’t last forever, though. Sam could feel the power taking hold of him, guiding him to use that power in ways he’d never thought possible just a year or two ago. In a roadside motel just outside Henderson, Nebraska, Sam completely blindsided his brother by suggesting that they separate.
“Dean, it’s getting stronger, something’s pulling on me and I don’t know how long I can resist it. If we split up, at least I’ll know that when I completely lose it and start destroying shit left and right, you won’t be one of those things.”
Sam wasn’t really all that surprised that Dean’s initial knee-jerk reaction in response to this idea was something along the lines of ‘fuck you, I’m not leaving you alone, we’ll figure this out together, we’re gonna fight this thing and we’re gonna win’.
Time to pull out all the stops now, Sam thought before he spoke. “You know my visions are mostly things that haven’t already happened yet. So basically, I’m seeing the future. I have seen the future and all I see is wreckage. Murder. Things are already set in motion, I can feel it. We’re already on the slide, Dean, not just me and you, but everyone. It only goes down from here. Heaven’s grinding its gears, almost at a full stop already, so we can’t expect any intervention from the good guys. I’m already turning into a monster.”
“All right, now that right there is epically melodramatic. You haven’t done anything even remotely wrong or bad in any way. Unless you count shit like taking all the hot water before I have a chance to get in the shower.”
That got a little chuckle out of both brothers. Sorely needed, yes, but not enough to change the subject of the conversation. “Dean. I’m talking end of the world caliber destruction. There won’t be a damn thing left that you’ll be able to recognize. And no matter what either of us would like to think, I can tell you with absolute certainty that I’m going to be a part of it. But not a single one of my visions has had you in it. I think if you stay away from me, you might be safe. But I’m not going to be able to hold it off much longer. When he…(how fucking horrific was it to say the name after all these years) when Azazel calls for me, I’m going to follow him; I don’t think I could stop if I wanted to, but I don’t want to. I know where I belong, Dean, and what I’m supposed to be. Your other choice is to put a bullet between my eyes, though I expect he’s got the juice to yank me back if he wants to badly enough.”
Even after being given all of this information, Dean still refused to leave. “Whatever happens, Sammy, I’m gonna be next to you. If I end up losing my life over it, it will have been worth it because I’ll know I stuck by you to the very end. I know what I promised Dad, but I’m not gonna kill you, not ever.”
There was no changing Dean’s mind, Sam knew it, and he also knew he didn’t have the courage to pull the trigger himself, to end it before Azazel turned him into a perfect soldier to lead the demons. Maybe he’d turn Sam into a demon. Now that he was thinking of it, that probably wouldn’t be necessary. Accepting his place as the Boy King would surely make him a demon all on its own. And he did, even before he admitted it to his brother, he had accepted it - what power did he have over destiny? None, and he didn’t want it anyway. Sam could have power over many, many things, but not before he fulfilled his role. He’d take what he could get. And he’d bring his brother with him, no matter what.
Not like they had any way of knowing when the time would come, but neither of them were prepared for how quickly it would all happen. Something different was there, inside Sam but close enough for Dean to feel. It didn’t scare Sam anymore, but it was still terrifying to Dean. That night, though, as they undressed and used their most comfortable means of communication, physical proximity, everything seemed to go so slowly. Just the kissing seemed to go on for hours, morphing into licking and scraping teeth against each other’s throats, necks and nipples until they couldn’t wait a minute longer. The silence was broken by Sam’s breathless and quiet request.
“Would you…I mean, do you mind if-” No sense in even finishing the sentence. Dean was well aware that Sam had trouble asking for what he wanted in bed, especially when he had a preference for bottoming. They switched fairly often, but it was rare for Sam to ask Dean to top. As if they had all the time in the world, Dean grabbed the lube they kept in one of their bags and worked Sam open excruciatingly slowly while Sam writhed and moaned above him on the bed. Pulling back enough so that he could slide his dick into his brother’s entrance, they both held their breath and stared into each other’s eyes. Once Dean started moving, though, the pace automatically picked up, neither of their bodies able to take much more. They didn’t even bother with getting cleaned up before they fell into a deep sleep.
Before the sun was even up, Sam was packing his duffel. When Dean opened his eyes and accused Sam of trying to ditch him, Sam wished he could say he didn’t want Dean to go with him, or that if he did, everything between them would still be all right, but there was no point in telling those lies. All he had were coordinates that looked to be in southern Wyoming. “You don’t go anywhere without me, kid, visions of death and destruction or not.”
And that - well, that was typical Dean, and Sam nodded once, accepting. Sam, though…he’d changed so much already that he could hardly focus on anything but this destiny of his. He knew, of course, that his brother still thought he could somehow get his old Sammy back, but there was no chance of that happening. Sam already had grand plans for Dean once he got to his rightful place. Surely, it would take Dean time to adjust to life as the consort to the Boy King, but he’d have no other choice.
For now, Sam could let Dean believe whatever he wanted. Could he have fought harder against Azazel’s call? Could he have put more effort into escaping this fate and led a life that wasn’t the complete opposite of what they’d always wanted?
Of course he could have.
Who knows, maybe he could have even been successful in that endeavor. Instead, Sam took what was his and left the yellow-eyed demon nothing but a pile of ash. It wasn’t for his mother, Sam didn’t remember his mother. It was for his brother, who’d had his childhood and his chance at happiness stolen away. He may not care anymore about the fate of other humans, but even the mantle of Boy King couldn’t take away his love for Dean.
He never fucking asked for this. Never, and he never would have. But it was there, and Sam was maybe a little tired of life just happening to him instead of him making things happen.
In the end, Dean went willingly. Sam could have forced him, of course, but there was no need. Sam had known since he was a child that his older brother would bend to his will when given the right incentive. Which, in this case, was sharing the safety of Sam’s kingdom and knowing they’d spend eternity together, even though it meant giving up his own humanity in exchange.
The thing with Sam, how he ended up using his powers to lead the demon armies symbolically as they swarmed the earth, taking his brother as a barely resistant but completely resigned consort…well, that was his fault.
No getting around that one.
Author: verucasalt123
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
W/C: ~2,000
Warnings: incest, disturbing imagery, possible non-con (not graphic), explicit sex (100% consensual)
A/N: Written for this year’s evilsam_spn summer writing challenge. Prompt is “The Future” by Leonard Cohen
The thing with Sam, how he ended up where he was, really, it wasn’t his fault.
Well…okay, so maybe that’s not entirely precise. To rephrase and give the statement a bit more veracity:
The thing with Sam, how he ended up who he was, really, it wasn’t his fault.
All right, let’s make it fair and say that it probably wasn’t entirely his fault.
At the very least, it must be acknowledged that he did not, as an infant, choose to be fed the blood of the demon Azazel. Sam did not ever want to be the boy with the demon blood; more accurately one of the boys and girls with demon blood, chosen carefully by Azazel to lead his army when the time was right, which wouldn’t be until more than twenty years later. Also, for most of his life, Sam did not have any aspirations to become, one day, the Boy King of Hell, or to do anything more exciting with his life than go to school, get married, have kids, work a normal job, and hope not to lose his family in the process.
The point, here, is that Sam didn’t fucking ask for this shit, okay?
As soon as he realized what they were, Sam told Dean about the visions. At first it was scary, but overall helpful in finding people they could save and also people who had been selected to be part of Azazel’s special group. They were all in possession of some kind of power; some that had a positive impact on their lives in some way, even though they were unexplainable and scary, and some that were downright terrifying.
There wasn’t anything Sam didn’t share with Dean. They’d been intimate before Sam left for school, and had resumed those activities not too long after they got back on the road together. So when the visions started to change, even though he knew Dean was uncomfortable about him possessing any kind of supernatural powers at all, Sam told him anyway. Who else was he going to tell? He couldn’t just ignore it, closing his eyes and seeing such bizarre sights: a dead woman hanging upside down, her dress falling to obscure her features; people surrounded by an almost blinding white light dancing around huge fires in the middle of major roads or interstates; sometimes a city decimated as if by a nuclear weapon like the pictures he’d seen in history books of World War II, but completely covered in snow, almost impossible to make out individual structures in the blizzard of the vision.
At first, Dean was distant, seemed cold and indifferent when Sam told him these things. It made him so fucking afraid that if all this kept getting worse, he wouldn’t be able to save his little brother, a thought he’d really just rather not have at all. But once he saw how badly the ugly pictures in Sam’s head were affecting him physically and emotionally, he let down his guard, gave in to his default mode of comforting Sam; holding him, kissing his tears away and then pulling him into a tender embrace, giving all he had to their lovemaking. Most of the many troubles Sam had run into over the years, Dean had always been able to at least try to fix them. But this…Dean couldn’t fix it, so he settled for trying to calm his brother with kisses that made them both weak in the knees, whispered I love yous while he held Sam down by his shoulders and fucked him face to face without ever breaking eye contact, letting Sam take his time opening Dean with his tongue and fingers before sliding his cock into Dean’s ready and willing hole against the tiles in the motel room shower.
It couldn’t last forever, though. Sam could feel the power taking hold of him, guiding him to use that power in ways he’d never thought possible just a year or two ago. In a roadside motel just outside Henderson, Nebraska, Sam completely blindsided his brother by suggesting that they separate.
“Dean, it’s getting stronger, something’s pulling on me and I don’t know how long I can resist it. If we split up, at least I’ll know that when I completely lose it and start destroying shit left and right, you won’t be one of those things.”
Sam wasn’t really all that surprised that Dean’s initial knee-jerk reaction in response to this idea was something along the lines of ‘fuck you, I’m not leaving you alone, we’ll figure this out together, we’re gonna fight this thing and we’re gonna win’.
Time to pull out all the stops now, Sam thought before he spoke. “You know my visions are mostly things that haven’t already happened yet. So basically, I’m seeing the future. I have seen the future and all I see is wreckage. Murder. Things are already set in motion, I can feel it. We’re already on the slide, Dean, not just me and you, but everyone. It only goes down from here. Heaven’s grinding its gears, almost at a full stop already, so we can’t expect any intervention from the good guys. I’m already turning into a monster.”
“All right, now that right there is epically melodramatic. You haven’t done anything even remotely wrong or bad in any way. Unless you count shit like taking all the hot water before I have a chance to get in the shower.”
That got a little chuckle out of both brothers. Sorely needed, yes, but not enough to change the subject of the conversation. “Dean. I’m talking end of the world caliber destruction. There won’t be a damn thing left that you’ll be able to recognize. And no matter what either of us would like to think, I can tell you with absolute certainty that I’m going to be a part of it. But not a single one of my visions has had you in it. I think if you stay away from me, you might be safe. But I’m not going to be able to hold it off much longer. When he…(how fucking horrific was it to say the name after all these years) when Azazel calls for me, I’m going to follow him; I don’t think I could stop if I wanted to, but I don’t want to. I know where I belong, Dean, and what I’m supposed to be. Your other choice is to put a bullet between my eyes, though I expect he’s got the juice to yank me back if he wants to badly enough.”
Even after being given all of this information, Dean still refused to leave. “Whatever happens, Sammy, I’m gonna be next to you. If I end up losing my life over it, it will have been worth it because I’ll know I stuck by you to the very end. I know what I promised Dad, but I’m not gonna kill you, not ever.”
There was no changing Dean’s mind, Sam knew it, and he also knew he didn’t have the courage to pull the trigger himself, to end it before Azazel turned him into a perfect soldier to lead the demons. Maybe he’d turn Sam into a demon. Now that he was thinking of it, that probably wouldn’t be necessary. Accepting his place as the Boy King would surely make him a demon all on its own. And he did, even before he admitted it to his brother, he had accepted it - what power did he have over destiny? None, and he didn’t want it anyway. Sam could have power over many, many things, but not before he fulfilled his role. He’d take what he could get. And he’d bring his brother with him, no matter what.
Not like they had any way of knowing when the time would come, but neither of them were prepared for how quickly it would all happen. Something different was there, inside Sam but close enough for Dean to feel. It didn’t scare Sam anymore, but it was still terrifying to Dean. That night, though, as they undressed and used their most comfortable means of communication, physical proximity, everything seemed to go so slowly. Just the kissing seemed to go on for hours, morphing into licking and scraping teeth against each other’s throats, necks and nipples until they couldn’t wait a minute longer. The silence was broken by Sam’s breathless and quiet request.
“Would you…I mean, do you mind if-” No sense in even finishing the sentence. Dean was well aware that Sam had trouble asking for what he wanted in bed, especially when he had a preference for bottoming. They switched fairly often, but it was rare for Sam to ask Dean to top. As if they had all the time in the world, Dean grabbed the lube they kept in one of their bags and worked Sam open excruciatingly slowly while Sam writhed and moaned above him on the bed. Pulling back enough so that he could slide his dick into his brother’s entrance, they both held their breath and stared into each other’s eyes. Once Dean started moving, though, the pace automatically picked up, neither of their bodies able to take much more. They didn’t even bother with getting cleaned up before they fell into a deep sleep.
Before the sun was even up, Sam was packing his duffel. When Dean opened his eyes and accused Sam of trying to ditch him, Sam wished he could say he didn’t want Dean to go with him, or that if he did, everything between them would still be all right, but there was no point in telling those lies. All he had were coordinates that looked to be in southern Wyoming. “You don’t go anywhere without me, kid, visions of death and destruction or not.”
And that - well, that was typical Dean, and Sam nodded once, accepting. Sam, though…he’d changed so much already that he could hardly focus on anything but this destiny of his. He knew, of course, that his brother still thought he could somehow get his old Sammy back, but there was no chance of that happening. Sam already had grand plans for Dean once he got to his rightful place. Surely, it would take Dean time to adjust to life as the consort to the Boy King, but he’d have no other choice.
For now, Sam could let Dean believe whatever he wanted. Could he have fought harder against Azazel’s call? Could he have put more effort into escaping this fate and led a life that wasn’t the complete opposite of what they’d always wanted?
Of course he could have.
Who knows, maybe he could have even been successful in that endeavor. Instead, Sam took what was his and left the yellow-eyed demon nothing but a pile of ash. It wasn’t for his mother, Sam didn’t remember his mother. It was for his brother, who’d had his childhood and his chance at happiness stolen away. He may not care anymore about the fate of other humans, but even the mantle of Boy King couldn’t take away his love for Dean.
He never fucking asked for this. Never, and he never would have. But it was there, and Sam was maybe a little tired of life just happening to him instead of him making things happen.
In the end, Dean went willingly. Sam could have forced him, of course, but there was no need. Sam had known since he was a child that his older brother would bend to his will when given the right incentive. Which, in this case, was sharing the safety of Sam’s kingdom and knowing they’d spend eternity together, even though it meant giving up his own humanity in exchange.
The thing with Sam, how he ended up using his powers to lead the demon armies symbolically as they swarmed the earth, taking his brother as a barely resistant but completely resigned consort…well, that was his fault.
No getting around that one.