[FIC] Half-Truths (SPN)
Title: Half-Truths
Authors: yahnkehy and shall0wbay
Disclaimer: Lies, all lies!
Warnings: Pre-series, AU, genderbending, incest, smut, demons, pregnancy and a partridge in a pear tree.
Rating: NC-17 for explicit sex
Pairing/Characters: girl!Sam/Dean, OMC, John, Bobby, YED, Jessica Moore
Summary: Dean has never wanted kids. Ever. Fears them to the point that he runs from pregnant women. So when Sam comes home and announces that she's soon to be a mother, Dean's life gets flipped upside down. The world marches on, and secrets fester, boil over, and two crazy kids are caught in the storm.
Music: Why don't you and I By Santana and Chad Kroeger
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Chapter 8
It had been seven days, eleven hours, and fifty-two minutes since Bobby had gotten the call that Sam was missing, and they had just found a lead on an abandoned motel just on the other side of Rock City. It was likely that the demon had taken Sam and JD and moved, but the omens were pretty constant. Like it was waiting for them to show up.
He didn’t like it, but Sam and JD were at stake. John was still not back from Elkins’ place, and had maintained radio silence the entire time. Elkins had been MIA as well, not even answering his phone. Very little sounded good about the situation, but there wasn’t anything they could do about it until they got Sam and JD back to safety.
When the Impala pulled to a stop a block down from the motel, Bobby got out and started pulling weapons from his bag and strapping them to his person. There was little that bullets, even consecrated bullets, would do to a demon, but it would slow it down long enough to possibly get Sam and Jeffery Dean out. “Your head on straight, boy?”
Dean got out of the car when it was almost still moving. He moved quickly to the back where what he still had from hunting was kept and looked around a moment before pausing a second to look to Bobby. He shrugged. "Yeah, whatever; let’s just get in there," he said, reaching in to pull out a bottle of holy water and a gun. What a gun was going to do he didn't know but at this point he didn't care.
He had been away from JD and Sam for over a week now and he was sick as a dog because of it. Finding them was about the only thing that kept him going. He loaded the gun and bit his bottom lip hard before putting the gun in his waistband and reaching for another one just in case.
His dad was nowhere to be seen or heard from-and that was just fucking great-but it didn't matter to Dean; he needed to get to them. He waited a minute or so for Bobby to finish and headed towards the motel.
With a sigh, Bobby checked his guns quickly and then started off after Dean. This whole thing stank of a set up, but there was no other choice. They moved in silence, Dean’s MO for the last few days, until they reached the motel, but then were stuck with a problem.
All of the motel doors were closed and in moderately good repair; there was no way to tell which room Sam and JD were being kept in just by looking. “You got that EMF detector on you?” Bobby asked quietly, surveying the motel from across the parking lot.
Dean looked around and nodded, pulling it from his pocket as he reached the first door off to the left and turned it on. He didn't get anything at first and shook his head, moving to the next door. He knew how this felt; he agreed with Bobby: it was a setup. It didn't matter; he needed to find Sam and JD right now.
They passed several rooms, pausing to scan over them before moving on, and it wasn’t until the eighth door that they finally got a reading. There were low voices in the room, too low to understand through the door, but enough to tell that one was female and another was male.
Bobby put his back to the door opposite Dean and raised his gun, ready and waiting for Dean’s cue to go in and find Sam.
Dean was getting annoyed very quickly but then the meter went off and he put it back in his pocket and put his back to the wall next to the door and looked to Bobby. He didn’t wait long, he gave the cue and nodded before turning and kicking the door open moving in quickly but giving room for Bobby to give him back up. He wasn't stupid he knew what he was getting into here.
Azazel had been off to the side and turned as the door slammed open. He smiled; he had been expecting just one idiot but now he got two to play with and that was just peachy for him. He laughed and stood straight getting between the hunters and Sam. "Gentlemen," he said softly before releasing a wave power sending them flying. "So disappointing."
“Dean!” Sam cried out, getting weakly to her feet. JD lay on the bed, fussing, and Sam grabbed him up, pressing him to her chest.
Bobby barely got his head turned in Sam’s direction before the world went crazy and flipped out on him. When it straightened out again, he was flat on his back on dirty carpet with one leg sticking out the door. He groaned and pushed himself up to sit. “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursion, infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica,” he began under his breath.
Dean hit the wall and closed his eyes a soft groan in the back of his throat. His eyes narrowed on the demon and he pushed himself up using the gun to help. "Sam, stay where you are," he said not wanting her or the baby in the range of fire. He studied them for about half a second and turned back to the demon, hearing Bobby behind him he pulled out the holy water and threw it in the demon's face.
The demon twitched but merely laughed. "Aw, now boys, that kind of tickles," he said with a laugh as his eyes traveled from them to Sam and back again.
“You leave them alone!” Sam barked out, crawling up on the bed and putting her back to the headboard. “You’ll never get what you want if you hurt them!” she blurted out.
“Ergo draco maledicte, et omnis legio diabolica adjuramus te. Cessa decipere humanas creaturas…” Bobby trailed off, realizing that it wasn’t working. He blanched and scooted back. “Sam, scoot this way, along the wall.”
The demon looked back at Sam and shook his head. "Oh yes, I will, sweetheart. I'll make sure of it," he leered. These people did understand that they were dealing with a demon right or was Azazel just giving them far too much credit?
Dean turned around and stood straight, looking at the demon. He knew Bobby was trying to get Sam to move and he figured he could try and deep the asshole's attention for the time being. "Want what?" he snapped. "What the fuck could we possibly have that you want?"
Sam slowly inched along the wall, clutching JD to her chest. Bobby kept one eye on Sam and the other on the demon, gun wavering slightly. If the exorcism hadn’t worked, there was no way that shooting the demon would make any difference whatsoever.
Dean had his gun ready but had no idea what he would actually do with it. One had normal bullets and the other had salt rounds and it wasn't like either would do much. Other than maybe piss it off or make it laugh. Whatever though, if he could just keep it talking maybe they could buy time, buy time for what he had no fucking clue but he was just grasping at straws here.
"Another brat to take your place just as that little brat took Sam's," Azazel said honestly. "I mean, come on, Dean; you did it with one mistake, a second one shouldn't be so hard for a Winchester." Yes, the demon was fully aware that Dean had no idea that he was the father of that kid clinging to Sam and he just sort of wanted to see realization move across his face. The second kid would come whether they wanted it or not, this was just really foreplay.
Whatever progress Sam had made came to a complete halt as soon as the demon spouted her secret. She shared a horrified look with Bobby, and then stepped off of the bed, lurching towards Bobby. She couldn’t look at Dean, couldn’t let him see the guilt on her face, read the truth.
Bobby reached out and grabbed Sam’s arm and pulled her behind him. “Spit out another lie,” Bobby blurted out, trying to keep Dean from realizing the truth, because Sam was already shaking and pale behind him.
Dean just stopped, everything in the room stopped for him, actually. His face seemed to lose any and all color as he stared horrified at the demon. Sam wouldn't have… she fucking lied to him? For almost two years?
He then heard Bobby and snapped out of it. That was way too forced to not mean something. The demon just laughed but kept his eyes on Dean. "Come on, Dean; think about it. You fuck her bareback in June and the kid was born in March; do you need a calculator?"
“Oh God,” Sam whispered, one hand clenched on the back of Bobby’s jacket in an effort to keep her feet. Her head swam with panic and dread. Dean was going to be pissed and hurt and… and… and he’d leave.
Bobby backed Sam toward the door, jaw tight and heart thumping wildly. “Come on, Dean. Let’s get the hell outta here,” he urged, backing out of the room.
The demon cocked his head to the side, not bothering to stop them. He would see them again. Once the kids were grown, then he would certainly find them again and with a lot less trouble. He had been assuming it would be the Winchesters and in one way or another it still would be. "Make sure to take care of these kids for me, Dean," he said with a smirk.
Dean was at a loss; he didn't even know what to think or say or do. He backed up toward the door and kept his eyes on the demon as he backed through the door to follow.
Outside, Sam forced herself to calm down. She was pale, tired, and starving; right at that moment wasn’t the ideal time to talk about this. “Which way is the car?” she asked Bobby quietly. He didn’t reply. He just took her arm and led her at a fast clip to the car parked just around the block.
Dean followed behind them, picking up the pace once they were out of the room. He was overly confused right now, but he hadn't hit pissed off or murderous just yet and it was coming. He moved to the car and got into the front, turning it on as everyone settled before taking off.
Sam sat silent in the backseat, fiddling with the buckles of JD’s carseat as the car gained speed. She refused to lift her eyes, afraid she might catch Dean’s eye in the rearview mirror.
“You doing alright back there, little girl?” Bobby asked quietly. “You’re not hurt, are you?”
“Just hungry and tired,” Sam responded, resting her head on the back of the baby seat. “JD’s hungry and needs a new diaper, too.”
Dean kept his eyes on the road, barely blinking as Bobby and Sam started talking. "We'll drive awhile and get to a motel for the night," he said. He would feel better once they were further away from the demon. Not that it would matter much when it came to a demon, but it didn't matter; right now he just wanted to drive.
Sam lapsed into silence at that. Dean drove when he was pissed off, and the only downside of that was that he was trapped in the car with her and couldn’t really get away from her at the moment. She closed her eyes and tried to get some sleep. She knew there was an argument coming and if she didn’t catch at least a few minutes she’d end up bawling and begging rather than being at least partially rational.
Bobby watched her settle in to sleep in the rearview, a worried frown tugging at his mouth. “We should get at least two rooms,” he said quietly, not wanting to disturb the two sleeping in the backseat. “I can keep Sam and JD with me if you’re… if you’d rather.”
This wasn't completely about Sam, just what she had done. He didn't want to think about this, about that, that he had felt weird and awkward on and off because JD wasn't his and Dean was playing daddy like he was. That the one person in the world he trusted above everyone else had lied to him about something this huge, let him think she'd been fucking around on him and what, he was just supposed to process that in five minutes?
JD wasn't the one he was mad at right now. "I just spent the last week looking for them but…" he shook his head; he should want to spend time with both of them but right now he wanted to hit something, hard, and he didn't even know what to say. "Do whatever she wants. I don't seem to have too much say in anything," he mumbled. He was hurt and that didn't just go away.
Bobby heaved a deep sigh and shook his head. The entire thing was a mess now; Dean was pissed off, hurt, and Sam looked for all the world that she’d been kicked in the teeth. “Don’t do that, Dean. Let her explain herself before you condemn her as a liar.”
Dean didn't want to hear Bobby sticking up for her, he and Sam could deal with it without everyone else getting in the middle of it and that's how he wanted it. How it was going to be, they were all family fine but this was between him and Sam. "Well sorry, Bobby, but JD is almost a year old. Don't tell me that she didn’t look me in the face every day and keep this from me wasn't a fucking lie," he retorted softly, not to wake JD or Sam.
“I didn’t say it wasn’t a lie, I just said not to condemn her before you find out why she did it. Do you honestly think she’d keep something this huge from you if there wasn’t a damn good reason?” Bobby asked, only barely keeping his voice down to a quiet murmur.
Dean settled back but it didn't work, he was still tense and annoyed. He shook his head and licked his lips. "Fine, I'll hear her out; happy?" he asked rolling his eyes. He really didn't need to hear this. Right, okay, maybe he did but he wasn't going to admit it.
Bobby snorted and looked out the window. “Happy would be neither of you in this situation to begin with, but since that’s not an option I’ll settle for content.”
Dean snorted and didn't say anything as he drove. He drove for a good hour straight before giving in and heading into the parking lot of the nearest motel. There was a small shop across the street and he figured they could get food and stuff for the baby there.
He got out, got two rooms, and then took a moment to get himself settled. Getting back to the car Dean stretched and cracked his neck, dropping one key into Bobby's hand and leaning again the door. "B3 and B4," he said.
Bobby looked down at the key and then back at Sam and JD snoozing in the backseat. “You and Sam need to talk, so I’m gonna take JD and get him fed, changed, and settled. I want this fixed, or at least discussed, by the time we leave tomorrow. You wanna run, fine, run, but don’t you do it until you’ve had it out with her.” He opened his door and got out, went around to the driver’s side and got JD out, cradling the baby in one arm before taking off across the street to see about diapers, food, and a couple of bottles of water.
Everyone just assumed he was going to take off and at the moment he could see why. Dean didn't want to deal with this. He missed how he was when he was younger, before JD and before getting married to Sam. When he just didn't let shit get inside his head. He looked down and nodded but didn't say anything to Bobby and watched as he took JD and headed to the store across the street.
The passenger’s side back door opened and Sam slid out, closing the door behind her. She shoved her hands into her jean pockets and watched Bobby walk away. The moment the car had stopped, she’d woken up. She’d heard every single word Bobby had said.
He sighed and turned to Sam before clearing his throat and heading off to their room with a frown on his lips. Dean pushed the door open and turned the light on, rubbing his eyes and walking in.
Sam shuffled in behind Dean and closed the door. She didn’t know where the salt was and didn’t have anything with her to ward the room like she should, so she stepped past him and headed into the bathroom. She’d been in the same clothes for seven days, and she felt disgusting. She closed and locked the door behind her and turned on the shower, stepping in, fully dressed, without waiting for it to warm up.
She stared numbly at the shower wall for a long moment and then started peeling off the wet clothes so she could wash them and herself. Sam took a seat in the bottom of the tub and started scrubbing the thin motel bar of soap over her skin and then started rubbing it on her clothes. It wouldn’t clean them fully, but it would be enough to knock the odor of seven days worth of sweat, fear, and sulfur right out. She couldn’t think about Dean, about the fact that he knew now, or she’d break down in tears. There was no way he was going to forgive her for this, and she wasn’t sure she deserved forgiveness.
She scrubbed out her panties, bra and shirt, leaving the jeans in the bottom of the tub without a care. When she was done, Sam hung the clothes on the curtain rod and wrapped herself up in a towel. She couldn’t go out there naked without making Dean think that she was trying to distract him, so she went to the door and opened it just a crack. “Can I borrow a pair of boxers and a shirt, please?” she asked quietly, not even sure he was even still in the room.
Dean was lying back on the bed; the TV didn't work so he was pretty much close to losing what was left of his freaking mind. The shower went on and it went off, and he didn't really care or seem to notice. He shifted and just looked up at the ceiling. His mind wasn't really stuck on any one thought; he was just letting it wander: from Sam, to JD, to his dad and then the demon. His dad was another issue; they needed to find him but right now he couldn't even form a freaking thought to know what to say or do about it. He looked over and pushed himself up from the bed, reached over for his bag. Pulling out the clothes, Dean went to the bathroom door and held them out for her to take. "Here."
“Thank you,” Sam whispered and then closed the door, locking it again. She dried off properly and then pulled on Dean’s clothes. She wasn’t quite ready to deal with this yet, so she took a minute to hang the towel she’d used, finger combed her hair back and off of her face, and grabbed the tiny tube of toothpaste from the counter. She squeezed some out onto her finger and scrubbed it over her teeth and tongue. It wasn’t very effective, but it got rid of the sour taste in her mouth that had built up over seven days.
Finally, she couldn’t stall anymore. Sam drew herself up, took a deep breath, and opened the bathroom door. She stepped out and waffled between sitting on the bed or on the chair, and decided to be safe and sat on the chair. She was exhausted, but knew she wouldn’t get another reprieve from this argument. She curled up in the chair and rested her head against the back, dreading the argument that she was sure was about to take place.
Dean was too dead right now to argue; he would easily turn this into a screaming match. Dean was good for that when he was pissed off and right now he was a mixture of that, betrayed and just feeling stupid as fuck. How many times was he just going to put a smile on his face and pretend like this shit wasn't the most fucked up thing since Oedipus Rex? He closed his eyes and didn't move, not even after Sam was settled in the chair. If he opened his mouth he was going to flip out and walk out the door and he was trying really hard not to do that.
He bit his bottom lip and didn't look at her, didn't even open his eyes. "What the fuck, Sam?" Dean finally snapped. She needed to fucking start explaining before he just said the hell with it and left. Bobby said she had a reason; well she needed to open her Goddamn mouth and tell him what it was before he put his fist through one of the walls in the room.
Sam flinched at his tone but lifted her head to stare at her drawn up knees. “You didn’t want kids. Ever since you figured out what fun you could have with your dick, you’ve said that you never wanted kids. I got pregnant by accident. I wanted to tell you, but I knew you’d run so it was easier to let you believe I was out fucking around while I was at college than to tell you that you are JD’s father.”
Dean pushed himself up and his eyes narrowed on her. "You're right; I would’ve left you so fast your head would’ve spun." He wasn't being an asshole either, he was just being honest. "What's your excuse for the past year, Sam?" he asked. "When I started playing daddy to a kid that wasn't supposed to be mine? Looking at JD and not being able to stand it sometimes because it was just a reminder that you were whoring around on me while I acted like we really meant something to each other. Pathetic as it was," he snapped.
“I was scared, okay? Why do you think I brought up having another kid, Dean? I wanted to tell you, but as soon as I started talking about having another baby with you, you took off to Bobby’s! I was completely justified in keeping it to myself, because I’d rather you think I was a whore than for you to run off.” Sam dropped her feet to the floor and stood up, pacing back and forth at the foot of the bed, arms wrapped tight around her waist. “At least I didn’t drop off the face of the planet and make you miss any part of it. You were there through all of my pregnancy, through the birth, and through the first year of JD’s life. I didn’t deprive you of any of your rights, I just kept that he was yours from you because you would have run off. Do you think this was easy? Playing mommy and daddy and you didn’t even know about it?”
"Sam, I wasn't freaked about having a kid, but what the fuck did you want me to say? I mean, whenever I heard about two siblings have a kid, the kid ends up with three eyes and missing half its brain," Dean shot back. Like he knew anything about this shit? He threw his hands up and laughed bitterly. "Well, forgive me if I don't feel for you right now, Sam; because in one breath you tell me you were scared I would run off and miss everything and in the next breath you're explaining how I was, in fact, there." He shook his head. Sam was right; they were a family. Sam just never let him know how much of one they were. "JD has been my son since he was born and it’s fucked up that, for the last year, I had to think that I was wishing for something that couldn't be changed and couldn't be fixed."
Sam’s breath caught and she twitched, but ignored the last bit of Dean’s commentary, because it negated every single thing she knew about her brother. It was ingrained in him to run when pregnant women were around, and it was only because Sam was his sister and family that he hadn’t booked it the moment he found out she was going to have a baby. “You were only there because you thought he was someone else’s kid! You stuck around to help me with him, not because you wanted to have a test run at being a parent. The entire time I was pregnant, you touched my stomach all of three whopping times, because it was a reminder that I was having a kid and because you loved me you had to shoulder the responsibility of being a parent after having told everyone, loudly and continuously, for years, that you hated kids and would never have one of your own.”
"Go fuck yourself, you stupid cunt!" Dean yelled. "You’re fucking right: I never wanted a kid. Raising you was enough of a test run of being a parent and knowing how fucking bratty a certain little bitch can be, but if you think that I don't love that kid, that I won't put up with you and your bullshit, in or out of your bed, just to make sure that I stay apart of his life, you’re fucking insane." She was right, though; he had first stayed with her because he loved her and JD was not even a factor of it for the first seven or eight months. "So fine; I was an asshole back then. I will freely admit that, but don't hold against me now what I was back then, because if you do, you have your head so far up your ass this whole talking session is really useless."
Angry and hurt and relieved, Sam stalked over to Dean and fisted her hands in his shirt, shaking him roughly. “Don’t you fucking change your mind,” she warned, angry tears streaking down her cheeks. “Don’t you even fucking think of leaving now, not now.” She released his shirt and stalked away, standing at the window, tense and uneasy and pissed off and terrified. “You can’t say shit like that and then expect me to be okay if you leave.”
Dean just, hateful and angry, stared at her. The thought, if looks could kill, seemed fitting for this actually. He opened his mouth to say something and thought to pull away, but right now he just wanted to… he didn't know. He wanted to fuck her, he wanted to hold her and he wanted to walk right out the fucking door all at once. "The way you talk, you’re pretty sure I was going to take off anyway," he commented back. It seemed she always thought it was coming after all. So what; now things had changed?
Sam dropped her hands to her sides and leaned her forehead on the window, eyes closed. “If you’re going to leave, then go. But don’t make me hope I was wrong and then leave anyway. Do me a favor, though?” She started to turn her head to look at him, and then arrested the movement and turned her face back to the window glass. “Leave when I’m asleep. I can’t watch you go.”
When you loved someone, you fought for them. You didn't just let them go or leave them behind. Being with Sam hadn't been in his thoughts, not fully anyway. He said he wouldn't leave JD and he wouldn't. Yeah, the man who didn't want kids, and now he couldn't rip himself away from one. He licked his lips and shook his head. "I swear to God, I could put you through a fucking wall right now," he mumbled, sitting down hard on the bed.
“You can do that, too. Unconscious is unconscious,” Sam shrugged carelessly, staring out the window but not seeing anything. “But, I can’t watch you leave. I’d beg and plead and you’d give in and stay because you can’t help but take care of me. I won’t make you stay if you don’t want to, so let me sleep or knock me out.”
"Sam, when I say I want to put you through a wall it's because I want to hurt you, not take care of you," Dean growled. She had hurt him and he wanted to hurt her, and it was such a childish attitude, but he didn't care. Fine; she had her reasons, or she thought she did, and in some ways she was right but not all of them. "You would just roll over and let me go, huh?" he asked and shook his head, rubbing his eyes. He was seriously starting to believe that he would stay with her no matter what she did or what happened and it was starting to make him mad.
“Rather than keep you here and watch you be miserable and start to hate me? Yeah, I’d let you knock me into next week and walk away. You’re my husband and my brother and I love you so much it scares the living hell out of me; if letting you walk out would make you happier, I won’t stand in the way of that. I’ve already lied and made you think you had to stay long enough. I don’t have the right to ask anything else of you.” Sam stared dully at the shadow of the car in the parking lot, wondering distantly if she would ever see it again. She mentally smacked herself for wanting to walk over to Dean and do anything to convince him to stay.
"You're right: you don't," Dean replied, leaning against the wall. "You lied to me about this," he said crossing his arm over his chest and watching her carefully. "Anything else that you left out?" he asked, wouldn’t be surprised if there was. "I mean, you can’t just pick through our lives and make a choice over what you'll be honest about because you don't like the first reaction you get, Sam."
“You want honesty. That makes sense.” Sam turned and put her back to the window, eyes blank and empty where her gaze settled on the wall over his shoulder. “The people I told you I’d been with, in the history of ever: lies. I wouldn’t let anyone but you ever touch me. First kiss, first blowjob, first time I had a dick inside me; all you, and only ever you. Jess tried to get me to be with her, and I turned her down even though she had her hand in my panties and was doing really nice things with her fingers.
“I bitch about you being over protective because I don’t want you to know how hot it makes me. I snap at you when you get rough because I don’t want you to know that I love every second of it. I wrote your name on JD’s birth certificate, and then prayed that you’d look at it and ask me so I could tell you the truth. I made Bobby swear that he would never tell you the truth, even when he was against keeping it a secret. I cried before our wedding because I felt like I was the luckiest woman on the planet, because you were marrying me. I told every guy or girl that ever hit on me that I had a guy already and that no one else could compare to him.” Sam folded her arms over her chest. “Is that enough truth for now, or do you want more?”
Dean never took his eyes off her as she spoke. He listened and hung onto every one of her words and couldn't seem to take it all in. The way she made it sound, he was everything to her, the same way she was everything to him. It was insane for him to feel that after thinking she had been with the other people. That he had meant so little to her that she could just leave their life together behind for college and one night stands.
"Well, you’re certainly helping my ego, so if you have more…" Dean trailed off, shaking his head. He licked his lips and ran a hand over his face. He shook his head again and sighed, biting his bottom lip. "No matter what you do, Sam, I'll never turn my back on you. And it isn't because I have to stay with you, you understand that, right?"
Something flickered in her eyes as she moved her gaze to meet his, but she dragged her gaze away again, brows pinched and mouth tight. “Don’t do that. Don’t be wonderful. You should walk away and never look back; I’ve lied to you, kept things from you, and made other people keep secrets from you. What the hell kind of person lies to people they love?”
"A bratty little bitch," Dean replied. He really couldn't pet her head and tell her it was okay because it wasn't. No matter, though, he was willing to… not walk out on her, at least. This wasn't just Sam though, this was his family and, annoyed with her or not, Sam was his family: his wife, the mother of his son and, oddly enough, his sister. No matter what she did, there wasn't anything that would make him write her off.
Sam huffed and dropped her gaze to the floor at her feet. “Jerk,” she muttered and then turned around again to stare out the window. “Be angry with me, or something. Yell, scream, fucking throw a punch; something.”
He wanted to get it through her head she couldn't just do shit like that to him. Dean was in this relationship too, and there was a point when they were younger she listened to him and she didn't keep things from him. Whatever happened to that? Dean had issues, a lot of them actually, that came from years of… everything they had been through, and she seemed so willing.
Do something, right? Anything even? Well he would, gladly. She could reveal everything to him, let’s see how much she could handle of him revealing everything to her. Dean grabbed her hard by her collar, pulling her back and shoving her down hard on the bed.
Sam bounced on the bed, eyes wide and snapping to Dean’s, wariness and curiosity warring. She opened her mouth to ask what he thought he was doing, but snapped her teeth shut at the look on his face. She’d asked for him to do something, and had honestly thought he’d backhand her or put her over his knees and beat her ass like he used to when she was a kid. This, she didn’t know what this was, and since she’d asked him to do something, she couldn’t exactly back out now.
That thought honestly crossed his mind and he really wouldn't have minded paddling her ass. At the same time, that Dean may’ve beaten her into unconsciousness was likely if he started down that route, so that could be for a later date. The hitting thing was not completely off, though. His sister knew him well and before she could push herself up, he backhanded her hard across the face and pushed her down, getting on top of her easily.
“Fuck,” Sam moaned, leaving her head turned to the side so that she could rub her aching cheek. It was nowhere near the first time he’d hit her-they hunted the entire time they grew up and sparring was mandatory; of course he’d hit her-but it was still a shock. He hadn’t hit her in anger before, well, not like that.
Still, the sharp sting sent a wave of warmth through her. His body settled atop hers and Sam had to fight down the urge to press her hips up against his. She closed her eyes and tried to regulate her breathing for a moment, and then turned her head to glare up at him. She dug her nails into his arms and bucked against him. If he was going to go along this route then she was going to make him work for her compliance.
He reached up to pull her nails out of his arm and smiled, he couldn't help it. Fucking the living shit out of a wet noodle was boring and Dean wanted her to fight back even if that meant he was going to end up hurting her more, because that's what was going to happen. Yeah, he wanted her to fight back and make him mad but then she had to deal with him pissed off. It was a very odd way of thinking but he couldn't change who he was or what he liked. Dean pressed down against her, his hand going for her throat and pushing her hard into the bed below them, cutting off her airway just to let up again just long enough for her to take in a quick breath.
Her back bowed as his hand clamped down on her throat again, and she pulled against the grip he had on her hands, trying to get loose for a moment so that she could try to flip him. It wasn’t working, so she wrapped her legs around his ribs and locked her ankles together, squeezing as tightly as she could, pushing him away as well as constricting his breath.
They knew one another, they knew the moves and they knew what each one would do. So pulling out all the stops was easily the best course of action here and he was not above tying her ass down and making her take him that way. As soon as he was pushed off, he was on her again without missing more than a step. "Fucking bitch," he snapped, pulling his belt out of the loops of his jeans and getting on her again. He bit his bottom lip hard and grabbed for one of her wrists.
“Mother fucker,” Sam growled in return, twisting her hips in an effort to dislodge him. She was pissed and horny and he was pushing all of her buttons. She shifted and pushed one foot on the bed and shoved, trying to push his greater weight off of her, but it had never worked in the past, and it wasn’t working now. Her breath came short and choppy as she thrashed, searching for a weak point so that she could get the upper hand for just a minute, just a half a second.
Dean wasn't giving it up; he wasn't giving up anything to her. He looped the belt around one hand and, with a lot of annoyance on his part, the other, and pulled it tightly, cutting easily into her skin before pulling it up to attach to the head board. "Nah, I can honestly say that wasn't one I've done," he snapped.
Sam tugged sharply on the belt binding her wrists to the headboard, trying to pull herself up enough to perhaps get her teeth into it to free herself. “You’ve fucked me; you’re a mother fucker,” she bit out, bringing her feet up and parting her legs wide to push at him again.
"Yeah well, I didn't fuck my mother so." Dean shrugged, getting up now that he knew she wasn't going anywhere for the time being. He turned and saw what she was doing and grabbed his shirt, wrapping it around her bound wrists to keep her teeth out of it before tightening everything just in case.
She panted and tugged, but the belt wasn’t going anywhere, and the shirt covering the leather made using her teeth fairly useless. Sam glared at him, his boxers loose and shoved low on her hips, his tee shirt riding high under her breasts. “What now, huh? You just tie me down to prove that you could?” she spat, firming her jaw.
"Yeah, that was it," Dean said sarcastically, rolling his eyes and kicked his boots off and then reached for her, ripping the shirt and boxers off of her easily. "Maybe I should fucking gag you so I don't have to hear what comes out of your whiny ass, lying mouth next," he snapped, settling over top of her. "We aren't playing around anymore, Sam. I am so done with being your big brother. No more protecting you from me and what I want. I did everything for you and now it’s time for you to shut the fuck up and just take it." He reached down and shoved her legs apart, his hand digging into her thigh; she would wear his marks and bruises tomorrow.
“You think so, huh? You think I’m gonna turn into a mewling little girl and roll over whenever you decide to take what you want? Fuck you. You know I’m going to fight back, that’s why you love me.” Sam twisted her hips to the side, trying to keep him from finding out that he was seriously turning her on. “I’m going to make you work for every inch.”
Dean laughed and got between her legs, pushing them apart harshly. He grabbed her hips, digging his nails into her deeply and glaring at her like he could easily kill her right now. "I'm hoping for it," he said honestly. "Just so you know, though; every hit I take, you’re getting back tenfold."
Sam hissed and tried to twist away from the grip on her hips, but he held her too tight, nails digging sharply into her skin. “I’m not afraid of you,” she growled, sliding her thighs up his hips to circle his ribs again and clamped them down tight. “And you’re going to have to try a lot harder than that to make me give in.”
"I don't give a fuck if you give in or not, Sammie. I'm still going to fuck you stupid and I don't care how much you fight," Dean replied, putting his hands between her thighs and shoving them apart, holding them down. "You’re going to take my cock and I don't care if you like it or not, and once we do it, I'm going to leave you here and we're going to do it again and again and again."
A shiver racked Sam’s frame before she could stop it, feeling open and exposed and needy. The burn of muscle where he held her thighs apart sent little jolts of arousal trickling up her legs and into her belly, coiling hot and thick. She forced a snort and turned her head away, hiding the greedy glint in her eyes. “You can’t get it up that many times.” She turned her head and smirked up at him. “You’re done after one go around. You’ve only got until noon, Dean. You’ll be lucky you can get it up twice in that amount of time.” It was blatantly untrue, but at the moment all she had to fight back with was her words.
He could feel the heat coming off of her and he could smell her, she liked it and they both knew it. "I'm sure I could find other things to shove up there,” Dean snarled back. "You know, just in case I wear out before I finally get tired of making you scream." They both knew her words were crap and she was just trying to get something out him. Make him madder. "You ever been fisted, Sammie?" Without waiting for her answer he kicked his boxers off and shoved himself into her cunt, hard and quick; no nice and gentle, just pure lust and ownership.
Sam sucked in a sharp breath as he slammed into her, eyes wide and lust-blown. She gritted her teeth and swore to herself that she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of making her scream. “You know I haven’t,” she growled jerkily, hands fisted tightly above her head.
Getting her to scream in pain or pleasure; either would work for Dean. He smirked and leaned forward, eyeing her. "Just have to change that," he said, pulling out of her just to slam right back into place inside her again. "Better get working on getting yourself off on my dick, Sam, because you'll be lucky if I bother to give your clit any attention this time around."
“F-fucker,” Sam growled, tensing against the sob of pleasure that tried to escape her throat. “Next you’ll b-be trying to… to shove your dick i-in my….” She had to stop there or risk making a noise that would give away exactly what having him like this was doing to her.
"Believe me, Sam; I'll stick it in every fucking hole that you have," Dean swore, riding into her deep and hard, grabbing her hips to keep her still.
Her thighs trembled and then slid up and around his waist, gripping his hips to encourage him. Sam’s eyes rolled back and her mouth opened to make a sound, but then she snapped her jaw closed and tightened her grip on his hips, slowing his thrusts in an act of defiance.
"I'm going to tie you spread eagle to the bed next time," Dean growled once her grip tightened. He pushed her legs apart again, holding her legs and thighs apart and down on the bed now, to keep her from being able to clench too much. He set a deep, fast and brutal pace, fucking into her so hard he would have otherwise been nervous about ripping something. Right now, though, he couldn't have cared less.
Sam turned her head and bit down on the pillow to keep the frantic cries from escaping her throat. He was driving her wild, despite the accompaniment of pain that laced into each thrust. Her breath hiccupped and left her in a sob that was muffled in the pillow. Orgasm swelled, stretching her out long and tight, and then she snapped and convulsed, tightening down tightly around him in fluttering waves.
Making her scream was certainly on Dean’s mind but the way her body jerked and moved under him was enough to send him over the edge for the time being. He exploded inside her, filling her, wet and sloppy and he gasped at the sudden release, his body shaking against the waves of pleasure.
Hazel green eyes snapped open as soon as she felt his release pulsing inside her and Sam let go of the pillow in her teeth to stare up at Dean in astonishment. Her breath came in sharp, uneven pants, and she tried to come down. He came inside her. Without a condom. Oh shit. She opened her mouth to tell him, but bit it back. Of course he knew he hadn’t used a condom; he didn’t put one on.
Suddenly, the demon’s words about a second child, one that would complete the pair, snapped into place in Sam’s mind and her eyes grew wider. Her breath sped up and she swallowed convulsively. Surely just once wouldn’t matter, but then they’d only done it without a condom once and JD had been the result. Surely lightning couldn’t strike twice; they wouldn’t end up with a second kid the first time they’d had unprotected sex since JD. Right?
Dean hadn’t even thought about using a rubber or even stopping for a second to consider using one. That hadn't been important and the demon's words about "kids" would later echo in his mind, but right now he didn't give it any thought. The anger seemed to leave his body at once as he came down from the insane high that rush had just given him and he pulled out of her with a wet sound as he rubbed his face.
“Dean,” Sam panted, forcing her mind away from the thought of getting pregnant. The pain of him slipping out of her helped. She was raw and aching, but it left behind a pleasant throb of pain which translated into ‘well-fucked’ in her head. “Jesus Christ.”
He laughed and looked back up at her. He couldn’t help but notice and enjoy, with a certain amount of smugness, the look on her face. He smirked almost evilly, though he had no desire to hurt her anymore, for now. "I'm going to take shower," he said after a second. "You sit tight," he added getting up.
“You’re going to leave me tied up here? Dean, I’m all sloppy. I need to clean up before it dries all over me.” And, yeah, that was a bit petulant, but Sam really hated feeling come dry on her thighs, drying to a crust that was just disgusting. And, well, she sort of wanted to go in the bathroom and look to see what kind of damage he’d done.
"Wasn't I clear on that while we were fucking?" Dean asked, looking at her with a sort of duh expression. He knew she would hate to be left like that but he honestly would sort of enjoy it. He licked his lips and looked her over a minute. "Ask me really nicely, Sam, and I'll think about it."
Sam’s eyes went wide in surprise, but then she sighed and flopped her head back against the pillow. God, she was really going to hate this, but…. “Please, baby? Please let me clean up… for you?” The words burned in her throat, acting the submissive little bitch, but she wanted up and she wanted to see how swollen she was before he decided that intermission was over and he fucked her again.
"Well, that must have left a really bitter taste in your mouth, huh?" Dean snarked, rolling his eyes and moving back to her and undoing the belt around her wrists. He dropped the shirt and belt onto the bed and moved into the shower, turning the water on hot and getting in.
She laid there for a few minutes, waiting until she heard the patter of the water change as Dean stepped in, and then she slowly got out of bed and wobbled her way to the bathroom. She pushed the door open and stepped quietly inside. She grabbed a rag from the towel rack and wet it, and then started gingerly cleaning herself up.
That done, Sam cast a quick look at the shower curtain and put her foot up on the sink counter, leg pushed aside so that she could see the damage. Surprisingly, she was just really red and swollen, and still dripping. She grabbed the rag again and carefully parted her folds, dabbing the rag against hot, swollen flesh.
The water felt great against his skin and he just soaked it up for a few minutes. He could hear Sam moving around in the bathroom but only barely and he just let his body relax against the heat and gave his mind time to do the same. He didn't think he had really hurt her, he didn't think he actually could. His mind was always going to protect Sam, even when he didn't want to. He washed up quickly and turned the water off reaching out for a towel to dry off with.
When the shower shut off and the curtain moved aside, Sam turned her head to look at Dean for a moment, and then she went back to lightly pressing the wash cloth to her abused flesh. Her cheek was red and starting to mottle purple and angry blue from where he’d hit her, and it was highly visible in the stark light of the bathroom. She frowned as she stared at her crotch and stifled a shiver. “That belt was uncomfortable,” she stated, dropping her foot from the sink counter, unconcerned that he’d caught her looking at herself.
Dean just looked her over, not really surprised about the marks; it had been what he was going for at the time. Though now that he was thinking of it, Bobby, the next day, was going to be an asshole to deal with. But, Dean would handle that when he had to. "Kind of the point," he said with a shrug as he got out and finished drying himself off.
Sam huffed a laugh and shook her head before heading out into the room. There was a wet spot to one side, and the tee shirt she’d worn was little more than rags at the moment. She picked up the tattered clothing and sat down gingerly on the end of the bed. The shirt was a total loss, but the boxers were just a little ripped at the legs, so she pulled them on. “Are we good?” she called, flopping back on the bed with the tee shirt draped over her chest.
Dean grabbed a pair of boxers and pulled them on, a gin spread across his face. "Not yet, Sam," he said honestly. "I mean, this is more something to do with being so pissed off at you and you did tell me to do something, so I did," he explained. "You did still lie to me."
“I meant as a punishment for lying,” Sam said, lifting her head to stare at Dean in surprise. “If angry, forceful sex wasn’t punishment, then what is going to be punishment?”
"No way. That was just for fun and you enjoyed way too much for that being anything close to punishing." Dean shrugged and leaned back on the chair off to the side before a smirk reached his lips. "Well…" He raised an eyebrow, "What did I do the last time you lied to me?"
“The last time you caught me in a lie I was twelve, Dean. You’re not spanking me like I’m a little kid.” Sam dropped her head back to the bed and laid an arm over her eyes, worn out after too little sleep and the recent round of very satisfying sex.
"Why not? It worked back then. Well, you know, for at least six years or so," Dean commented, looking back at her. Sam hated being spanked when she was a kid and Dean only ever did it when she had done something stupid enough to push him into it.
Sam sighed heavily and pushed herself up to her feet, tying the torn tee shirt around her breasts in a make-shift shirt before folding her arms over her chest. “You’re not spanking me because I’m not a child. You think I need a physical reminder not to lie then spar with me. You’re much bigger and stronger than the last time we sparred, and I’ve been out of shape for two years.”
"You sure the fuck acted like one," Dean shot back. He really didn't need to get her permission for this. He was pretty sure that whole retarded way of thinking went out the door about a half hour ago when he tied her down and more or less raped her. "Submit to it or not, Sam; this is going to happen. I'm just giving you the chance to make it easier on yourself."
“Easier how? What am I supposed to do? Bend over, grab my ankles, and think of England while you beat my ass? I don’t think so. I’m twenty, not two.” Sam tightened her jaw and tipped it up in defiance.
"No, you can either bend over my lap, not fight me and I'll use my hand, or I'll tie you back down on the fucking bed, use my belt and then fist you like I promised before," Dean replied, completely serious. "Come on, Sammie. I know you feel bad about lying to me, just like when you were a kid. Let me take care of you now like I did when we were kids," he said, coming up to her and pulling her into him, his arms around her waist.
“You can’t do that, Dean. I’ll tear. Hell, JD’s head was smaller than your fist when he was born and they had to cut me to get him out.” Sam turned her head to the side mulishly, lower lip poked out in a mutinous pout. “I don’t want a spanking, even if I feel guilty.”
"I'd go slow, Sam," Dean promised. "No matter how mad I get at you, I would never really hurt you. I know you better than anyone and I know what you can handle," he said, holding her close and smirking. He may have slapped her before because he was mad but that was about as bad as it would get. He knew she was enjoying the sex. And, when she was little he always made sure to calm down before raising a hand to her. He couldn't say dad was always the same with either one of them, but Dean knew how to take care of Sam like no one else. "You’re sure?" he asked, not even being close to believing her.
Sam fidgeted in his grasp for a moment, debating over which would be worse. At present, she was already sore and aching, so putting anything back in there would really hurt, but then Dean was never light handed when it came to punishing her. With a sigh, she pushed out of his arms and folded her own over her chest. “Fine, sit down. We’ll do this the easy way. My pussy hurts too much to bet that you’re joking about putting your entire fist in me.”
Dean could at least count on Sam listening to reason sometimes. Besides, when she was younger and she did something she felt bad about, getting it over with wasn't easy but once it was done she would lose that sick and guilty look in her eyes. Something could be said for the practice, at least. He nodded his head and sat down on the bed, looking back at her and motioning with a finger for her to come over.
Awkward and resistant, Sam shuffled over and knelt beside Dean’s knees. She pressed her forehead to his thigh for a moment, gathering herself for this, and then carefully rose up and crawled over his lap. “I’m going to regret this. How far from home are we?” she asked, covering her face where she hung pliant over his thighs.
As she settled next to him he reached out and ran a hand through her hair almost petting her. Dean shifted and put his hand to her lower back. "About seven hours," he answered, confused at the question. "Why?"
“Because my ass is going to burn the entire ride home,” Sam replied, the words a bit muffled behind her hands. “I’m going to end up squirming around in my seat, trying to find a comfortable position.”
"Good, then maybe the lesson will stick," Dean replied. Reaching down, he pulled the boxers down and pressed down in the small of her back to keep her in place. She fought hard enough when she was a kid he could picture her now. Raising his hand he brought it down hard, without any warning, on her left side and then again on her right. The slaps were sharp and hard, enough for her to know he wasn't playing around.
Sam tensed and gritted her teeth, fighting back the urge to cry out. The shocks of each smacking blow jolted against her already tender cunt, cranking the pain level up a bit higher than the usual hard blows would. She bit her lip until it bled, and kept biting down through that small pain. Each punishing smack stung and heated her ass, leaving her grimacing.
Dean fell into an easy and familiar rhythm. He knew how to make Sam cry, and honestly he was in no rush to get her there. When she was a kid, he had spanked her until she cried because that meant the lesson had gotten through and it meant that she would be thinking twice before doing whatever it was that she’d done again. He moved back and forth between one cheek and the other, slow and making sure every inch of her skin was touched. The white skin turned to a soft pink quickly and he was just getting started.
Ten swats became fifteen, and then twenty, and Sam started shifting and squirming, hips pressed forward and cheeks held tight in an effort to get away from the heavy hand landing repeatedly on her ass. “How-how many are you… how many are you giving me?” she asked, voice rough and jagged from holding back.
Dean pressed down further keeping her in place as he worked her ass over. Stopping a second, he cleared his throat. "That depends on you, Sam; just like it always did," he replied, knowing that she would get the message. When she gave in, when she was actually sorry because of what she did rather than that she got caught. He moved down to her thighs and laid five hard smacks on the right then five on the left, on the tender flesh where her ass met her legs, knowing she would feel that when sitting down.
“Ow! Fuck!” Sam blurted out, surprised at the smacks on her legs. She started wriggling in earnest then, feet pushing on the floor while her hands gripped Dean’s ankle, pulling and shoving in an effort to get off of his lap. “I’m sorry! Fuck! Fine! I’m sorry!”
He wrapped his arm tightly around her waist; he wasn't letting her get away until he was finished. Sorry wasn't what he wanted to hear and he wasn't stopping until he broke through to her. Dean hit her harder, the slaps coming more quickly now that she was warmed up. "Sorry for what, lying to me, Sam? You know better and you don't fucking lie to me," he snapped at her, each word driven home by a hard smack to her already angry red skin.
“Ow! Yes, I’m… I’m sorry! I’ll never-fuck-I’ll never lie to you again!” Sam yelled out, shifting and twisting in his grip but unable to get away. Tears inevitably welled in her eyes and the cries of pain shifted into sobs for forgiveness. “Please, please! I’ll never… forgive me! Please, please, please!” she sobbed, shoulders shaking as she cried, arms wrapped tightly around Dean’s leg as though to assure herself that he wouldn’t leave her.
Dean was more relieved than anything when she finally broke down. He finished with another ten smacks, hard and fast, and then stopped, rubbing her back again gently to let her cry it out.
Shakily, Sam pushed herself up and off of Dean’s lap, only to turn and straddle him, arms and legs wrapping tightly around him as she shook and sobbed into his neck. “Don’t leave me,” she begged. “I’m so sorry, so sorry. Please don’t go, don’t leave me. Dean, please, please.” She clutched at him, terrified and remorseful, hands moving up and down his back as though to assure herself that he was there.
Dean wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back. "Shh, it’s okay," he assured her. He wasn't mad anymore and he knew that she needed to know that, needed to know that it was over and done with. "Not going anywhere, Sammie. I swear to you, not going anywhere," he promised softly into her ear as she buried her face into his neck.
Slowly, so slowly, the terror ebbed away and Sam settled. She kept her grip tight around Dean’s neck and hips, but her hands moved less frantically and more soothing, mimicking the rub of Dean’s over her own back. “I was so scared, Dean. I didn’t know what else to do.”
Dean nodded against her and sighed deeply. "I know, and I know I didn't make it easy on you back then, either. It's over now, though, and we’re good, okay?" he asked, pulling back to look her in the face. He kissed her eyelids and kissed the tear streaks down her face affectionately.
“Okay, okay,” Sam replied, eyes sliding open to look at him hopefully. A tiny smile tried to work its way over her mouth, encouraged by Dean’s kisses. “I love you, Dean.”
"I love you, too." Dean brushed her hair out of her face before bumping against her. Moving up, he kissed her mouth and smiled. Finally, the reality that she and JD were safe hit him and he could just be content and thankful for that. "Let’s go to bed, okay?"
“Yeah, yeah, I’m tired,” Sam replied and slid back and off of his lap. She grabbed the boxers from the floor and pulled them back on, wincing as the material scraped over her aching ass. She yawned wide and then carefully climbed up into bed, lying down to the far side of the wet spot so that Dean wouldn’t be left sleeping in it.
"Me too," Dean agreed as he got up and into bed. Getting in next to Sam, he sighed and yawned himself, suddenly so tired. The day and the stress finally gone, and nothing was left other than just his tired body and mush of a mind. He turned to face her, putting an arm around her waist and pulling into him.
Sam curled gratefully into him, an arm and a leg slung over him to bridge the minute distance between them. She sighed, relaxed for the first time in almost two years, and let the exhaustion that had been tugging at her the last few days drag her down.
Dean was curled protectively around Sam and asleep within seconds. He sighed deeply, burying himself against her. He hadn't slept in the past eight or so days and he needed to just pass out. She smelled so good and she felt so warm against him, it was being home.
Next
Back
Authors: yahnkehy and shall0wbay
Disclaimer: Lies, all lies!
Warnings: Pre-series, AU, genderbending, incest, smut, demons, pregnancy and a partridge in a pear tree.
Rating: NC-17 for explicit sex
Pairing/Characters: girl!Sam/Dean, OMC, John, Bobby, YED, Jessica Moore
Summary: Dean has never wanted kids. Ever. Fears them to the point that he runs from pregnant women. So when Sam comes home and announces that she's soon to be a mother, Dean's life gets flipped upside down. The world marches on, and secrets fester, boil over, and two crazy kids are caught in the storm.
Music: Why don't you and I By Santana and Chad Kroeger
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Chapter 8
It had been seven days, eleven hours, and fifty-two minutes since Bobby had gotten the call that Sam was missing, and they had just found a lead on an abandoned motel just on the other side of Rock City. It was likely that the demon had taken Sam and JD and moved, but the omens were pretty constant. Like it was waiting for them to show up.
He didn’t like it, but Sam and JD were at stake. John was still not back from Elkins’ place, and had maintained radio silence the entire time. Elkins had been MIA as well, not even answering his phone. Very little sounded good about the situation, but there wasn’t anything they could do about it until they got Sam and JD back to safety.
When the Impala pulled to a stop a block down from the motel, Bobby got out and started pulling weapons from his bag and strapping them to his person. There was little that bullets, even consecrated bullets, would do to a demon, but it would slow it down long enough to possibly get Sam and Jeffery Dean out. “Your head on straight, boy?”
Dean got out of the car when it was almost still moving. He moved quickly to the back where what he still had from hunting was kept and looked around a moment before pausing a second to look to Bobby. He shrugged. "Yeah, whatever; let’s just get in there," he said, reaching in to pull out a bottle of holy water and a gun. What a gun was going to do he didn't know but at this point he didn't care.
He had been away from JD and Sam for over a week now and he was sick as a dog because of it. Finding them was about the only thing that kept him going. He loaded the gun and bit his bottom lip hard before putting the gun in his waistband and reaching for another one just in case.
His dad was nowhere to be seen or heard from-and that was just fucking great-but it didn't matter to Dean; he needed to get to them. He waited a minute or so for Bobby to finish and headed towards the motel.
With a sigh, Bobby checked his guns quickly and then started off after Dean. This whole thing stank of a set up, but there was no other choice. They moved in silence, Dean’s MO for the last few days, until they reached the motel, but then were stuck with a problem.
All of the motel doors were closed and in moderately good repair; there was no way to tell which room Sam and JD were being kept in just by looking. “You got that EMF detector on you?” Bobby asked quietly, surveying the motel from across the parking lot.
Dean looked around and nodded, pulling it from his pocket as he reached the first door off to the left and turned it on. He didn't get anything at first and shook his head, moving to the next door. He knew how this felt; he agreed with Bobby: it was a setup. It didn't matter; he needed to find Sam and JD right now.
They passed several rooms, pausing to scan over them before moving on, and it wasn’t until the eighth door that they finally got a reading. There were low voices in the room, too low to understand through the door, but enough to tell that one was female and another was male.
Bobby put his back to the door opposite Dean and raised his gun, ready and waiting for Dean’s cue to go in and find Sam.
Dean was getting annoyed very quickly but then the meter went off and he put it back in his pocket and put his back to the wall next to the door and looked to Bobby. He didn’t wait long, he gave the cue and nodded before turning and kicking the door open moving in quickly but giving room for Bobby to give him back up. He wasn't stupid he knew what he was getting into here.
Azazel had been off to the side and turned as the door slammed open. He smiled; he had been expecting just one idiot but now he got two to play with and that was just peachy for him. He laughed and stood straight getting between the hunters and Sam. "Gentlemen," he said softly before releasing a wave power sending them flying. "So disappointing."
“Dean!” Sam cried out, getting weakly to her feet. JD lay on the bed, fussing, and Sam grabbed him up, pressing him to her chest.
Bobby barely got his head turned in Sam’s direction before the world went crazy and flipped out on him. When it straightened out again, he was flat on his back on dirty carpet with one leg sticking out the door. He groaned and pushed himself up to sit. “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursion, infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica,” he began under his breath.
Dean hit the wall and closed his eyes a soft groan in the back of his throat. His eyes narrowed on the demon and he pushed himself up using the gun to help. "Sam, stay where you are," he said not wanting her or the baby in the range of fire. He studied them for about half a second and turned back to the demon, hearing Bobby behind him he pulled out the holy water and threw it in the demon's face.
The demon twitched but merely laughed. "Aw, now boys, that kind of tickles," he said with a laugh as his eyes traveled from them to Sam and back again.
“You leave them alone!” Sam barked out, crawling up on the bed and putting her back to the headboard. “You’ll never get what you want if you hurt them!” she blurted out.
“Ergo draco maledicte, et omnis legio diabolica adjuramus te. Cessa decipere humanas creaturas…” Bobby trailed off, realizing that it wasn’t working. He blanched and scooted back. “Sam, scoot this way, along the wall.”
The demon looked back at Sam and shook his head. "Oh yes, I will, sweetheart. I'll make sure of it," he leered. These people did understand that they were dealing with a demon right or was Azazel just giving them far too much credit?
Dean turned around and stood straight, looking at the demon. He knew Bobby was trying to get Sam to move and he figured he could try and deep the asshole's attention for the time being. "Want what?" he snapped. "What the fuck could we possibly have that you want?"
Sam slowly inched along the wall, clutching JD to her chest. Bobby kept one eye on Sam and the other on the demon, gun wavering slightly. If the exorcism hadn’t worked, there was no way that shooting the demon would make any difference whatsoever.
Dean had his gun ready but had no idea what he would actually do with it. One had normal bullets and the other had salt rounds and it wasn't like either would do much. Other than maybe piss it off or make it laugh. Whatever though, if he could just keep it talking maybe they could buy time, buy time for what he had no fucking clue but he was just grasping at straws here.
"Another brat to take your place just as that little brat took Sam's," Azazel said honestly. "I mean, come on, Dean; you did it with one mistake, a second one shouldn't be so hard for a Winchester." Yes, the demon was fully aware that Dean had no idea that he was the father of that kid clinging to Sam and he just sort of wanted to see realization move across his face. The second kid would come whether they wanted it or not, this was just really foreplay.
Whatever progress Sam had made came to a complete halt as soon as the demon spouted her secret. She shared a horrified look with Bobby, and then stepped off of the bed, lurching towards Bobby. She couldn’t look at Dean, couldn’t let him see the guilt on her face, read the truth.
Bobby reached out and grabbed Sam’s arm and pulled her behind him. “Spit out another lie,” Bobby blurted out, trying to keep Dean from realizing the truth, because Sam was already shaking and pale behind him.
Dean just stopped, everything in the room stopped for him, actually. His face seemed to lose any and all color as he stared horrified at the demon. Sam wouldn't have… she fucking lied to him? For almost two years?
He then heard Bobby and snapped out of it. That was way too forced to not mean something. The demon just laughed but kept his eyes on Dean. "Come on, Dean; think about it. You fuck her bareback in June and the kid was born in March; do you need a calculator?"
“Oh God,” Sam whispered, one hand clenched on the back of Bobby’s jacket in an effort to keep her feet. Her head swam with panic and dread. Dean was going to be pissed and hurt and… and… and he’d leave.
Bobby backed Sam toward the door, jaw tight and heart thumping wildly. “Come on, Dean. Let’s get the hell outta here,” he urged, backing out of the room.
The demon cocked his head to the side, not bothering to stop them. He would see them again. Once the kids were grown, then he would certainly find them again and with a lot less trouble. He had been assuming it would be the Winchesters and in one way or another it still would be. "Make sure to take care of these kids for me, Dean," he said with a smirk.
Dean was at a loss; he didn't even know what to think or say or do. He backed up toward the door and kept his eyes on the demon as he backed through the door to follow.
Outside, Sam forced herself to calm down. She was pale, tired, and starving; right at that moment wasn’t the ideal time to talk about this. “Which way is the car?” she asked Bobby quietly. He didn’t reply. He just took her arm and led her at a fast clip to the car parked just around the block.
Dean followed behind them, picking up the pace once they were out of the room. He was overly confused right now, but he hadn't hit pissed off or murderous just yet and it was coming. He moved to the car and got into the front, turning it on as everyone settled before taking off.
Sam sat silent in the backseat, fiddling with the buckles of JD’s carseat as the car gained speed. She refused to lift her eyes, afraid she might catch Dean’s eye in the rearview mirror.
“You doing alright back there, little girl?” Bobby asked quietly. “You’re not hurt, are you?”
“Just hungry and tired,” Sam responded, resting her head on the back of the baby seat. “JD’s hungry and needs a new diaper, too.”
Dean kept his eyes on the road, barely blinking as Bobby and Sam started talking. "We'll drive awhile and get to a motel for the night," he said. He would feel better once they were further away from the demon. Not that it would matter much when it came to a demon, but it didn't matter; right now he just wanted to drive.
Sam lapsed into silence at that. Dean drove when he was pissed off, and the only downside of that was that he was trapped in the car with her and couldn’t really get away from her at the moment. She closed her eyes and tried to get some sleep. She knew there was an argument coming and if she didn’t catch at least a few minutes she’d end up bawling and begging rather than being at least partially rational.
Bobby watched her settle in to sleep in the rearview, a worried frown tugging at his mouth. “We should get at least two rooms,” he said quietly, not wanting to disturb the two sleeping in the backseat. “I can keep Sam and JD with me if you’re… if you’d rather.”
This wasn't completely about Sam, just what she had done. He didn't want to think about this, about that, that he had felt weird and awkward on and off because JD wasn't his and Dean was playing daddy like he was. That the one person in the world he trusted above everyone else had lied to him about something this huge, let him think she'd been fucking around on him and what, he was just supposed to process that in five minutes?
JD wasn't the one he was mad at right now. "I just spent the last week looking for them but…" he shook his head; he should want to spend time with both of them but right now he wanted to hit something, hard, and he didn't even know what to say. "Do whatever she wants. I don't seem to have too much say in anything," he mumbled. He was hurt and that didn't just go away.
Bobby heaved a deep sigh and shook his head. The entire thing was a mess now; Dean was pissed off, hurt, and Sam looked for all the world that she’d been kicked in the teeth. “Don’t do that, Dean. Let her explain herself before you condemn her as a liar.”
Dean didn't want to hear Bobby sticking up for her, he and Sam could deal with it without everyone else getting in the middle of it and that's how he wanted it. How it was going to be, they were all family fine but this was between him and Sam. "Well sorry, Bobby, but JD is almost a year old. Don't tell me that she didn’t look me in the face every day and keep this from me wasn't a fucking lie," he retorted softly, not to wake JD or Sam.
“I didn’t say it wasn’t a lie, I just said not to condemn her before you find out why she did it. Do you honestly think she’d keep something this huge from you if there wasn’t a damn good reason?” Bobby asked, only barely keeping his voice down to a quiet murmur.
Dean settled back but it didn't work, he was still tense and annoyed. He shook his head and licked his lips. "Fine, I'll hear her out; happy?" he asked rolling his eyes. He really didn't need to hear this. Right, okay, maybe he did but he wasn't going to admit it.
Bobby snorted and looked out the window. “Happy would be neither of you in this situation to begin with, but since that’s not an option I’ll settle for content.”
Dean snorted and didn't say anything as he drove. He drove for a good hour straight before giving in and heading into the parking lot of the nearest motel. There was a small shop across the street and he figured they could get food and stuff for the baby there.
He got out, got two rooms, and then took a moment to get himself settled. Getting back to the car Dean stretched and cracked his neck, dropping one key into Bobby's hand and leaning again the door. "B3 and B4," he said.
Bobby looked down at the key and then back at Sam and JD snoozing in the backseat. “You and Sam need to talk, so I’m gonna take JD and get him fed, changed, and settled. I want this fixed, or at least discussed, by the time we leave tomorrow. You wanna run, fine, run, but don’t you do it until you’ve had it out with her.” He opened his door and got out, went around to the driver’s side and got JD out, cradling the baby in one arm before taking off across the street to see about diapers, food, and a couple of bottles of water.
Everyone just assumed he was going to take off and at the moment he could see why. Dean didn't want to deal with this. He missed how he was when he was younger, before JD and before getting married to Sam. When he just didn't let shit get inside his head. He looked down and nodded but didn't say anything to Bobby and watched as he took JD and headed to the store across the street.
The passenger’s side back door opened and Sam slid out, closing the door behind her. She shoved her hands into her jean pockets and watched Bobby walk away. The moment the car had stopped, she’d woken up. She’d heard every single word Bobby had said.
He sighed and turned to Sam before clearing his throat and heading off to their room with a frown on his lips. Dean pushed the door open and turned the light on, rubbing his eyes and walking in.
Sam shuffled in behind Dean and closed the door. She didn’t know where the salt was and didn’t have anything with her to ward the room like she should, so she stepped past him and headed into the bathroom. She’d been in the same clothes for seven days, and she felt disgusting. She closed and locked the door behind her and turned on the shower, stepping in, fully dressed, without waiting for it to warm up.
She stared numbly at the shower wall for a long moment and then started peeling off the wet clothes so she could wash them and herself. Sam took a seat in the bottom of the tub and started scrubbing the thin motel bar of soap over her skin and then started rubbing it on her clothes. It wouldn’t clean them fully, but it would be enough to knock the odor of seven days worth of sweat, fear, and sulfur right out. She couldn’t think about Dean, about the fact that he knew now, or she’d break down in tears. There was no way he was going to forgive her for this, and she wasn’t sure she deserved forgiveness.
She scrubbed out her panties, bra and shirt, leaving the jeans in the bottom of the tub without a care. When she was done, Sam hung the clothes on the curtain rod and wrapped herself up in a towel. She couldn’t go out there naked without making Dean think that she was trying to distract him, so she went to the door and opened it just a crack. “Can I borrow a pair of boxers and a shirt, please?” she asked quietly, not even sure he was even still in the room.
Dean was lying back on the bed; the TV didn't work so he was pretty much close to losing what was left of his freaking mind. The shower went on and it went off, and he didn't really care or seem to notice. He shifted and just looked up at the ceiling. His mind wasn't really stuck on any one thought; he was just letting it wander: from Sam, to JD, to his dad and then the demon. His dad was another issue; they needed to find him but right now he couldn't even form a freaking thought to know what to say or do about it. He looked over and pushed himself up from the bed, reached over for his bag. Pulling out the clothes, Dean went to the bathroom door and held them out for her to take. "Here."
“Thank you,” Sam whispered and then closed the door, locking it again. She dried off properly and then pulled on Dean’s clothes. She wasn’t quite ready to deal with this yet, so she took a minute to hang the towel she’d used, finger combed her hair back and off of her face, and grabbed the tiny tube of toothpaste from the counter. She squeezed some out onto her finger and scrubbed it over her teeth and tongue. It wasn’t very effective, but it got rid of the sour taste in her mouth that had built up over seven days.
Finally, she couldn’t stall anymore. Sam drew herself up, took a deep breath, and opened the bathroom door. She stepped out and waffled between sitting on the bed or on the chair, and decided to be safe and sat on the chair. She was exhausted, but knew she wouldn’t get another reprieve from this argument. She curled up in the chair and rested her head against the back, dreading the argument that she was sure was about to take place.
Dean was too dead right now to argue; he would easily turn this into a screaming match. Dean was good for that when he was pissed off and right now he was a mixture of that, betrayed and just feeling stupid as fuck. How many times was he just going to put a smile on his face and pretend like this shit wasn't the most fucked up thing since Oedipus Rex? He closed his eyes and didn't move, not even after Sam was settled in the chair. If he opened his mouth he was going to flip out and walk out the door and he was trying really hard not to do that.
He bit his bottom lip and didn't look at her, didn't even open his eyes. "What the fuck, Sam?" Dean finally snapped. She needed to fucking start explaining before he just said the hell with it and left. Bobby said she had a reason; well she needed to open her Goddamn mouth and tell him what it was before he put his fist through one of the walls in the room.
Sam flinched at his tone but lifted her head to stare at her drawn up knees. “You didn’t want kids. Ever since you figured out what fun you could have with your dick, you’ve said that you never wanted kids. I got pregnant by accident. I wanted to tell you, but I knew you’d run so it was easier to let you believe I was out fucking around while I was at college than to tell you that you are JD’s father.”
Dean pushed himself up and his eyes narrowed on her. "You're right; I would’ve left you so fast your head would’ve spun." He wasn't being an asshole either, he was just being honest. "What's your excuse for the past year, Sam?" he asked. "When I started playing daddy to a kid that wasn't supposed to be mine? Looking at JD and not being able to stand it sometimes because it was just a reminder that you were whoring around on me while I acted like we really meant something to each other. Pathetic as it was," he snapped.
“I was scared, okay? Why do you think I brought up having another kid, Dean? I wanted to tell you, but as soon as I started talking about having another baby with you, you took off to Bobby’s! I was completely justified in keeping it to myself, because I’d rather you think I was a whore than for you to run off.” Sam dropped her feet to the floor and stood up, pacing back and forth at the foot of the bed, arms wrapped tight around her waist. “At least I didn’t drop off the face of the planet and make you miss any part of it. You were there through all of my pregnancy, through the birth, and through the first year of JD’s life. I didn’t deprive you of any of your rights, I just kept that he was yours from you because you would have run off. Do you think this was easy? Playing mommy and daddy and you didn’t even know about it?”
"Sam, I wasn't freaked about having a kid, but what the fuck did you want me to say? I mean, whenever I heard about two siblings have a kid, the kid ends up with three eyes and missing half its brain," Dean shot back. Like he knew anything about this shit? He threw his hands up and laughed bitterly. "Well, forgive me if I don't feel for you right now, Sam; because in one breath you tell me you were scared I would run off and miss everything and in the next breath you're explaining how I was, in fact, there." He shook his head. Sam was right; they were a family. Sam just never let him know how much of one they were. "JD has been my son since he was born and it’s fucked up that, for the last year, I had to think that I was wishing for something that couldn't be changed and couldn't be fixed."
Sam’s breath caught and she twitched, but ignored the last bit of Dean’s commentary, because it negated every single thing she knew about her brother. It was ingrained in him to run when pregnant women were around, and it was only because Sam was his sister and family that he hadn’t booked it the moment he found out she was going to have a baby. “You were only there because you thought he was someone else’s kid! You stuck around to help me with him, not because you wanted to have a test run at being a parent. The entire time I was pregnant, you touched my stomach all of three whopping times, because it was a reminder that I was having a kid and because you loved me you had to shoulder the responsibility of being a parent after having told everyone, loudly and continuously, for years, that you hated kids and would never have one of your own.”
"Go fuck yourself, you stupid cunt!" Dean yelled. "You’re fucking right: I never wanted a kid. Raising you was enough of a test run of being a parent and knowing how fucking bratty a certain little bitch can be, but if you think that I don't love that kid, that I won't put up with you and your bullshit, in or out of your bed, just to make sure that I stay apart of his life, you’re fucking insane." She was right, though; he had first stayed with her because he loved her and JD was not even a factor of it for the first seven or eight months. "So fine; I was an asshole back then. I will freely admit that, but don't hold against me now what I was back then, because if you do, you have your head so far up your ass this whole talking session is really useless."
Angry and hurt and relieved, Sam stalked over to Dean and fisted her hands in his shirt, shaking him roughly. “Don’t you fucking change your mind,” she warned, angry tears streaking down her cheeks. “Don’t you even fucking think of leaving now, not now.” She released his shirt and stalked away, standing at the window, tense and uneasy and pissed off and terrified. “You can’t say shit like that and then expect me to be okay if you leave.”
Dean just, hateful and angry, stared at her. The thought, if looks could kill, seemed fitting for this actually. He opened his mouth to say something and thought to pull away, but right now he just wanted to… he didn't know. He wanted to fuck her, he wanted to hold her and he wanted to walk right out the fucking door all at once. "The way you talk, you’re pretty sure I was going to take off anyway," he commented back. It seemed she always thought it was coming after all. So what; now things had changed?
Sam dropped her hands to her sides and leaned her forehead on the window, eyes closed. “If you’re going to leave, then go. But don’t make me hope I was wrong and then leave anyway. Do me a favor, though?” She started to turn her head to look at him, and then arrested the movement and turned her face back to the window glass. “Leave when I’m asleep. I can’t watch you go.”
When you loved someone, you fought for them. You didn't just let them go or leave them behind. Being with Sam hadn't been in his thoughts, not fully anyway. He said he wouldn't leave JD and he wouldn't. Yeah, the man who didn't want kids, and now he couldn't rip himself away from one. He licked his lips and shook his head. "I swear to God, I could put you through a fucking wall right now," he mumbled, sitting down hard on the bed.
“You can do that, too. Unconscious is unconscious,” Sam shrugged carelessly, staring out the window but not seeing anything. “But, I can’t watch you leave. I’d beg and plead and you’d give in and stay because you can’t help but take care of me. I won’t make you stay if you don’t want to, so let me sleep or knock me out.”
"Sam, when I say I want to put you through a wall it's because I want to hurt you, not take care of you," Dean growled. She had hurt him and he wanted to hurt her, and it was such a childish attitude, but he didn't care. Fine; she had her reasons, or she thought she did, and in some ways she was right but not all of them. "You would just roll over and let me go, huh?" he asked and shook his head, rubbing his eyes. He was seriously starting to believe that he would stay with her no matter what she did or what happened and it was starting to make him mad.
“Rather than keep you here and watch you be miserable and start to hate me? Yeah, I’d let you knock me into next week and walk away. You’re my husband and my brother and I love you so much it scares the living hell out of me; if letting you walk out would make you happier, I won’t stand in the way of that. I’ve already lied and made you think you had to stay long enough. I don’t have the right to ask anything else of you.” Sam stared dully at the shadow of the car in the parking lot, wondering distantly if she would ever see it again. She mentally smacked herself for wanting to walk over to Dean and do anything to convince him to stay.
"You're right: you don't," Dean replied, leaning against the wall. "You lied to me about this," he said crossing his arm over his chest and watching her carefully. "Anything else that you left out?" he asked, wouldn’t be surprised if there was. "I mean, you can’t just pick through our lives and make a choice over what you'll be honest about because you don't like the first reaction you get, Sam."
“You want honesty. That makes sense.” Sam turned and put her back to the window, eyes blank and empty where her gaze settled on the wall over his shoulder. “The people I told you I’d been with, in the history of ever: lies. I wouldn’t let anyone but you ever touch me. First kiss, first blowjob, first time I had a dick inside me; all you, and only ever you. Jess tried to get me to be with her, and I turned her down even though she had her hand in my panties and was doing really nice things with her fingers.
“I bitch about you being over protective because I don’t want you to know how hot it makes me. I snap at you when you get rough because I don’t want you to know that I love every second of it. I wrote your name on JD’s birth certificate, and then prayed that you’d look at it and ask me so I could tell you the truth. I made Bobby swear that he would never tell you the truth, even when he was against keeping it a secret. I cried before our wedding because I felt like I was the luckiest woman on the planet, because you were marrying me. I told every guy or girl that ever hit on me that I had a guy already and that no one else could compare to him.” Sam folded her arms over her chest. “Is that enough truth for now, or do you want more?”
Dean never took his eyes off her as she spoke. He listened and hung onto every one of her words and couldn't seem to take it all in. The way she made it sound, he was everything to her, the same way she was everything to him. It was insane for him to feel that after thinking she had been with the other people. That he had meant so little to her that she could just leave their life together behind for college and one night stands.
"Well, you’re certainly helping my ego, so if you have more…" Dean trailed off, shaking his head. He licked his lips and ran a hand over his face. He shook his head again and sighed, biting his bottom lip. "No matter what you do, Sam, I'll never turn my back on you. And it isn't because I have to stay with you, you understand that, right?"
Something flickered in her eyes as she moved her gaze to meet his, but she dragged her gaze away again, brows pinched and mouth tight. “Don’t do that. Don’t be wonderful. You should walk away and never look back; I’ve lied to you, kept things from you, and made other people keep secrets from you. What the hell kind of person lies to people they love?”
"A bratty little bitch," Dean replied. He really couldn't pet her head and tell her it was okay because it wasn't. No matter, though, he was willing to… not walk out on her, at least. This wasn't just Sam though, this was his family and, annoyed with her or not, Sam was his family: his wife, the mother of his son and, oddly enough, his sister. No matter what she did, there wasn't anything that would make him write her off.
Sam huffed and dropped her gaze to the floor at her feet. “Jerk,” she muttered and then turned around again to stare out the window. “Be angry with me, or something. Yell, scream, fucking throw a punch; something.”
He wanted to get it through her head she couldn't just do shit like that to him. Dean was in this relationship too, and there was a point when they were younger she listened to him and she didn't keep things from him. Whatever happened to that? Dean had issues, a lot of them actually, that came from years of… everything they had been through, and she seemed so willing.
Do something, right? Anything even? Well he would, gladly. She could reveal everything to him, let’s see how much she could handle of him revealing everything to her. Dean grabbed her hard by her collar, pulling her back and shoving her down hard on the bed.
Sam bounced on the bed, eyes wide and snapping to Dean’s, wariness and curiosity warring. She opened her mouth to ask what he thought he was doing, but snapped her teeth shut at the look on his face. She’d asked for him to do something, and had honestly thought he’d backhand her or put her over his knees and beat her ass like he used to when she was a kid. This, she didn’t know what this was, and since she’d asked him to do something, she couldn’t exactly back out now.
That thought honestly crossed his mind and he really wouldn't have minded paddling her ass. At the same time, that Dean may’ve beaten her into unconsciousness was likely if he started down that route, so that could be for a later date. The hitting thing was not completely off, though. His sister knew him well and before she could push herself up, he backhanded her hard across the face and pushed her down, getting on top of her easily.
“Fuck,” Sam moaned, leaving her head turned to the side so that she could rub her aching cheek. It was nowhere near the first time he’d hit her-they hunted the entire time they grew up and sparring was mandatory; of course he’d hit her-but it was still a shock. He hadn’t hit her in anger before, well, not like that.
Still, the sharp sting sent a wave of warmth through her. His body settled atop hers and Sam had to fight down the urge to press her hips up against his. She closed her eyes and tried to regulate her breathing for a moment, and then turned her head to glare up at him. She dug her nails into his arms and bucked against him. If he was going to go along this route then she was going to make him work for her compliance.
He reached up to pull her nails out of his arm and smiled, he couldn't help it. Fucking the living shit out of a wet noodle was boring and Dean wanted her to fight back even if that meant he was going to end up hurting her more, because that's what was going to happen. Yeah, he wanted her to fight back and make him mad but then she had to deal with him pissed off. It was a very odd way of thinking but he couldn't change who he was or what he liked. Dean pressed down against her, his hand going for her throat and pushing her hard into the bed below them, cutting off her airway just to let up again just long enough for her to take in a quick breath.
Her back bowed as his hand clamped down on her throat again, and she pulled against the grip he had on her hands, trying to get loose for a moment so that she could try to flip him. It wasn’t working, so she wrapped her legs around his ribs and locked her ankles together, squeezing as tightly as she could, pushing him away as well as constricting his breath.
They knew one another, they knew the moves and they knew what each one would do. So pulling out all the stops was easily the best course of action here and he was not above tying her ass down and making her take him that way. As soon as he was pushed off, he was on her again without missing more than a step. "Fucking bitch," he snapped, pulling his belt out of the loops of his jeans and getting on her again. He bit his bottom lip hard and grabbed for one of her wrists.
“Mother fucker,” Sam growled in return, twisting her hips in an effort to dislodge him. She was pissed and horny and he was pushing all of her buttons. She shifted and pushed one foot on the bed and shoved, trying to push his greater weight off of her, but it had never worked in the past, and it wasn’t working now. Her breath came short and choppy as she thrashed, searching for a weak point so that she could get the upper hand for just a minute, just a half a second.
Dean wasn't giving it up; he wasn't giving up anything to her. He looped the belt around one hand and, with a lot of annoyance on his part, the other, and pulled it tightly, cutting easily into her skin before pulling it up to attach to the head board. "Nah, I can honestly say that wasn't one I've done," he snapped.
Sam tugged sharply on the belt binding her wrists to the headboard, trying to pull herself up enough to perhaps get her teeth into it to free herself. “You’ve fucked me; you’re a mother fucker,” she bit out, bringing her feet up and parting her legs wide to push at him again.
"Yeah well, I didn't fuck my mother so." Dean shrugged, getting up now that he knew she wasn't going anywhere for the time being. He turned and saw what she was doing and grabbed his shirt, wrapping it around her bound wrists to keep her teeth out of it before tightening everything just in case.
She panted and tugged, but the belt wasn’t going anywhere, and the shirt covering the leather made using her teeth fairly useless. Sam glared at him, his boxers loose and shoved low on her hips, his tee shirt riding high under her breasts. “What now, huh? You just tie me down to prove that you could?” she spat, firming her jaw.
"Yeah, that was it," Dean said sarcastically, rolling his eyes and kicked his boots off and then reached for her, ripping the shirt and boxers off of her easily. "Maybe I should fucking gag you so I don't have to hear what comes out of your whiny ass, lying mouth next," he snapped, settling over top of her. "We aren't playing around anymore, Sam. I am so done with being your big brother. No more protecting you from me and what I want. I did everything for you and now it’s time for you to shut the fuck up and just take it." He reached down and shoved her legs apart, his hand digging into her thigh; she would wear his marks and bruises tomorrow.
“You think so, huh? You think I’m gonna turn into a mewling little girl and roll over whenever you decide to take what you want? Fuck you. You know I’m going to fight back, that’s why you love me.” Sam twisted her hips to the side, trying to keep him from finding out that he was seriously turning her on. “I’m going to make you work for every inch.”
Dean laughed and got between her legs, pushing them apart harshly. He grabbed her hips, digging his nails into her deeply and glaring at her like he could easily kill her right now. "I'm hoping for it," he said honestly. "Just so you know, though; every hit I take, you’re getting back tenfold."
Sam hissed and tried to twist away from the grip on her hips, but he held her too tight, nails digging sharply into her skin. “I’m not afraid of you,” she growled, sliding her thighs up his hips to circle his ribs again and clamped them down tight. “And you’re going to have to try a lot harder than that to make me give in.”
"I don't give a fuck if you give in or not, Sammie. I'm still going to fuck you stupid and I don't care how much you fight," Dean replied, putting his hands between her thighs and shoving them apart, holding them down. "You’re going to take my cock and I don't care if you like it or not, and once we do it, I'm going to leave you here and we're going to do it again and again and again."
A shiver racked Sam’s frame before she could stop it, feeling open and exposed and needy. The burn of muscle where he held her thighs apart sent little jolts of arousal trickling up her legs and into her belly, coiling hot and thick. She forced a snort and turned her head away, hiding the greedy glint in her eyes. “You can’t get it up that many times.” She turned her head and smirked up at him. “You’re done after one go around. You’ve only got until noon, Dean. You’ll be lucky you can get it up twice in that amount of time.” It was blatantly untrue, but at the moment all she had to fight back with was her words.
He could feel the heat coming off of her and he could smell her, she liked it and they both knew it. "I'm sure I could find other things to shove up there,” Dean snarled back. "You know, just in case I wear out before I finally get tired of making you scream." They both knew her words were crap and she was just trying to get something out him. Make him madder. "You ever been fisted, Sammie?" Without waiting for her answer he kicked his boxers off and shoved himself into her cunt, hard and quick; no nice and gentle, just pure lust and ownership.
Sam sucked in a sharp breath as he slammed into her, eyes wide and lust-blown. She gritted her teeth and swore to herself that she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of making her scream. “You know I haven’t,” she growled jerkily, hands fisted tightly above her head.
Getting her to scream in pain or pleasure; either would work for Dean. He smirked and leaned forward, eyeing her. "Just have to change that," he said, pulling out of her just to slam right back into place inside her again. "Better get working on getting yourself off on my dick, Sam, because you'll be lucky if I bother to give your clit any attention this time around."
“F-fucker,” Sam growled, tensing against the sob of pleasure that tried to escape her throat. “Next you’ll b-be trying to… to shove your dick i-in my….” She had to stop there or risk making a noise that would give away exactly what having him like this was doing to her.
"Believe me, Sam; I'll stick it in every fucking hole that you have," Dean swore, riding into her deep and hard, grabbing her hips to keep her still.
Her thighs trembled and then slid up and around his waist, gripping his hips to encourage him. Sam’s eyes rolled back and her mouth opened to make a sound, but then she snapped her jaw closed and tightened her grip on his hips, slowing his thrusts in an act of defiance.
"I'm going to tie you spread eagle to the bed next time," Dean growled once her grip tightened. He pushed her legs apart again, holding her legs and thighs apart and down on the bed now, to keep her from being able to clench too much. He set a deep, fast and brutal pace, fucking into her so hard he would have otherwise been nervous about ripping something. Right now, though, he couldn't have cared less.
Sam turned her head and bit down on the pillow to keep the frantic cries from escaping her throat. He was driving her wild, despite the accompaniment of pain that laced into each thrust. Her breath hiccupped and left her in a sob that was muffled in the pillow. Orgasm swelled, stretching her out long and tight, and then she snapped and convulsed, tightening down tightly around him in fluttering waves.
Making her scream was certainly on Dean’s mind but the way her body jerked and moved under him was enough to send him over the edge for the time being. He exploded inside her, filling her, wet and sloppy and he gasped at the sudden release, his body shaking against the waves of pleasure.
Hazel green eyes snapped open as soon as she felt his release pulsing inside her and Sam let go of the pillow in her teeth to stare up at Dean in astonishment. Her breath came in sharp, uneven pants, and she tried to come down. He came inside her. Without a condom. Oh shit. She opened her mouth to tell him, but bit it back. Of course he knew he hadn’t used a condom; he didn’t put one on.
Suddenly, the demon’s words about a second child, one that would complete the pair, snapped into place in Sam’s mind and her eyes grew wider. Her breath sped up and she swallowed convulsively. Surely just once wouldn’t matter, but then they’d only done it without a condom once and JD had been the result. Surely lightning couldn’t strike twice; they wouldn’t end up with a second kid the first time they’d had unprotected sex since JD. Right?
Dean hadn’t even thought about using a rubber or even stopping for a second to consider using one. That hadn't been important and the demon's words about "kids" would later echo in his mind, but right now he didn't give it any thought. The anger seemed to leave his body at once as he came down from the insane high that rush had just given him and he pulled out of her with a wet sound as he rubbed his face.
“Dean,” Sam panted, forcing her mind away from the thought of getting pregnant. The pain of him slipping out of her helped. She was raw and aching, but it left behind a pleasant throb of pain which translated into ‘well-fucked’ in her head. “Jesus Christ.”
He laughed and looked back up at her. He couldn’t help but notice and enjoy, with a certain amount of smugness, the look on her face. He smirked almost evilly, though he had no desire to hurt her anymore, for now. "I'm going to take shower," he said after a second. "You sit tight," he added getting up.
“You’re going to leave me tied up here? Dean, I’m all sloppy. I need to clean up before it dries all over me.” And, yeah, that was a bit petulant, but Sam really hated feeling come dry on her thighs, drying to a crust that was just disgusting. And, well, she sort of wanted to go in the bathroom and look to see what kind of damage he’d done.
"Wasn't I clear on that while we were fucking?" Dean asked, looking at her with a sort of duh expression. He knew she would hate to be left like that but he honestly would sort of enjoy it. He licked his lips and looked her over a minute. "Ask me really nicely, Sam, and I'll think about it."
Sam’s eyes went wide in surprise, but then she sighed and flopped her head back against the pillow. God, she was really going to hate this, but…. “Please, baby? Please let me clean up… for you?” The words burned in her throat, acting the submissive little bitch, but she wanted up and she wanted to see how swollen she was before he decided that intermission was over and he fucked her again.
"Well, that must have left a really bitter taste in your mouth, huh?" Dean snarked, rolling his eyes and moving back to her and undoing the belt around her wrists. He dropped the shirt and belt onto the bed and moved into the shower, turning the water on hot and getting in.
She laid there for a few minutes, waiting until she heard the patter of the water change as Dean stepped in, and then she slowly got out of bed and wobbled her way to the bathroom. She pushed the door open and stepped quietly inside. She grabbed a rag from the towel rack and wet it, and then started gingerly cleaning herself up.
That done, Sam cast a quick look at the shower curtain and put her foot up on the sink counter, leg pushed aside so that she could see the damage. Surprisingly, she was just really red and swollen, and still dripping. She grabbed the rag again and carefully parted her folds, dabbing the rag against hot, swollen flesh.
The water felt great against his skin and he just soaked it up for a few minutes. He could hear Sam moving around in the bathroom but only barely and he just let his body relax against the heat and gave his mind time to do the same. He didn't think he had really hurt her, he didn't think he actually could. His mind was always going to protect Sam, even when he didn't want to. He washed up quickly and turned the water off reaching out for a towel to dry off with.
When the shower shut off and the curtain moved aside, Sam turned her head to look at Dean for a moment, and then she went back to lightly pressing the wash cloth to her abused flesh. Her cheek was red and starting to mottle purple and angry blue from where he’d hit her, and it was highly visible in the stark light of the bathroom. She frowned as she stared at her crotch and stifled a shiver. “That belt was uncomfortable,” she stated, dropping her foot from the sink counter, unconcerned that he’d caught her looking at herself.
Dean just looked her over, not really surprised about the marks; it had been what he was going for at the time. Though now that he was thinking of it, Bobby, the next day, was going to be an asshole to deal with. But, Dean would handle that when he had to. "Kind of the point," he said with a shrug as he got out and finished drying himself off.
Sam huffed a laugh and shook her head before heading out into the room. There was a wet spot to one side, and the tee shirt she’d worn was little more than rags at the moment. She picked up the tattered clothing and sat down gingerly on the end of the bed. The shirt was a total loss, but the boxers were just a little ripped at the legs, so she pulled them on. “Are we good?” she called, flopping back on the bed with the tee shirt draped over her chest.
Dean grabbed a pair of boxers and pulled them on, a gin spread across his face. "Not yet, Sam," he said honestly. "I mean, this is more something to do with being so pissed off at you and you did tell me to do something, so I did," he explained. "You did still lie to me."
“I meant as a punishment for lying,” Sam said, lifting her head to stare at Dean in surprise. “If angry, forceful sex wasn’t punishment, then what is going to be punishment?”
"No way. That was just for fun and you enjoyed way too much for that being anything close to punishing." Dean shrugged and leaned back on the chair off to the side before a smirk reached his lips. "Well…" He raised an eyebrow, "What did I do the last time you lied to me?"
“The last time you caught me in a lie I was twelve, Dean. You’re not spanking me like I’m a little kid.” Sam dropped her head back to the bed and laid an arm over her eyes, worn out after too little sleep and the recent round of very satisfying sex.
"Why not? It worked back then. Well, you know, for at least six years or so," Dean commented, looking back at her. Sam hated being spanked when she was a kid and Dean only ever did it when she had done something stupid enough to push him into it.
Sam sighed heavily and pushed herself up to her feet, tying the torn tee shirt around her breasts in a make-shift shirt before folding her arms over her chest. “You’re not spanking me because I’m not a child. You think I need a physical reminder not to lie then spar with me. You’re much bigger and stronger than the last time we sparred, and I’ve been out of shape for two years.”
"You sure the fuck acted like one," Dean shot back. He really didn't need to get her permission for this. He was pretty sure that whole retarded way of thinking went out the door about a half hour ago when he tied her down and more or less raped her. "Submit to it or not, Sam; this is going to happen. I'm just giving you the chance to make it easier on yourself."
“Easier how? What am I supposed to do? Bend over, grab my ankles, and think of England while you beat my ass? I don’t think so. I’m twenty, not two.” Sam tightened her jaw and tipped it up in defiance.
"No, you can either bend over my lap, not fight me and I'll use my hand, or I'll tie you back down on the fucking bed, use my belt and then fist you like I promised before," Dean replied, completely serious. "Come on, Sammie. I know you feel bad about lying to me, just like when you were a kid. Let me take care of you now like I did when we were kids," he said, coming up to her and pulling her into him, his arms around her waist.
“You can’t do that, Dean. I’ll tear. Hell, JD’s head was smaller than your fist when he was born and they had to cut me to get him out.” Sam turned her head to the side mulishly, lower lip poked out in a mutinous pout. “I don’t want a spanking, even if I feel guilty.”
"I'd go slow, Sam," Dean promised. "No matter how mad I get at you, I would never really hurt you. I know you better than anyone and I know what you can handle," he said, holding her close and smirking. He may have slapped her before because he was mad but that was about as bad as it would get. He knew she was enjoying the sex. And, when she was little he always made sure to calm down before raising a hand to her. He couldn't say dad was always the same with either one of them, but Dean knew how to take care of Sam like no one else. "You’re sure?" he asked, not even being close to believing her.
Sam fidgeted in his grasp for a moment, debating over which would be worse. At present, she was already sore and aching, so putting anything back in there would really hurt, but then Dean was never light handed when it came to punishing her. With a sigh, she pushed out of his arms and folded her own over her chest. “Fine, sit down. We’ll do this the easy way. My pussy hurts too much to bet that you’re joking about putting your entire fist in me.”
Dean could at least count on Sam listening to reason sometimes. Besides, when she was younger and she did something she felt bad about, getting it over with wasn't easy but once it was done she would lose that sick and guilty look in her eyes. Something could be said for the practice, at least. He nodded his head and sat down on the bed, looking back at her and motioning with a finger for her to come over.
Awkward and resistant, Sam shuffled over and knelt beside Dean’s knees. She pressed her forehead to his thigh for a moment, gathering herself for this, and then carefully rose up and crawled over his lap. “I’m going to regret this. How far from home are we?” she asked, covering her face where she hung pliant over his thighs.
As she settled next to him he reached out and ran a hand through her hair almost petting her. Dean shifted and put his hand to her lower back. "About seven hours," he answered, confused at the question. "Why?"
“Because my ass is going to burn the entire ride home,” Sam replied, the words a bit muffled behind her hands. “I’m going to end up squirming around in my seat, trying to find a comfortable position.”
"Good, then maybe the lesson will stick," Dean replied. Reaching down, he pulled the boxers down and pressed down in the small of her back to keep her in place. She fought hard enough when she was a kid he could picture her now. Raising his hand he brought it down hard, without any warning, on her left side and then again on her right. The slaps were sharp and hard, enough for her to know he wasn't playing around.
Sam tensed and gritted her teeth, fighting back the urge to cry out. The shocks of each smacking blow jolted against her already tender cunt, cranking the pain level up a bit higher than the usual hard blows would. She bit her lip until it bled, and kept biting down through that small pain. Each punishing smack stung and heated her ass, leaving her grimacing.
Dean fell into an easy and familiar rhythm. He knew how to make Sam cry, and honestly he was in no rush to get her there. When she was a kid, he had spanked her until she cried because that meant the lesson had gotten through and it meant that she would be thinking twice before doing whatever it was that she’d done again. He moved back and forth between one cheek and the other, slow and making sure every inch of her skin was touched. The white skin turned to a soft pink quickly and he was just getting started.
Ten swats became fifteen, and then twenty, and Sam started shifting and squirming, hips pressed forward and cheeks held tight in an effort to get away from the heavy hand landing repeatedly on her ass. “How-how many are you… how many are you giving me?” she asked, voice rough and jagged from holding back.
Dean pressed down further keeping her in place as he worked her ass over. Stopping a second, he cleared his throat. "That depends on you, Sam; just like it always did," he replied, knowing that she would get the message. When she gave in, when she was actually sorry because of what she did rather than that she got caught. He moved down to her thighs and laid five hard smacks on the right then five on the left, on the tender flesh where her ass met her legs, knowing she would feel that when sitting down.
“Ow! Fuck!” Sam blurted out, surprised at the smacks on her legs. She started wriggling in earnest then, feet pushing on the floor while her hands gripped Dean’s ankle, pulling and shoving in an effort to get off of his lap. “I’m sorry! Fuck! Fine! I’m sorry!”
He wrapped his arm tightly around her waist; he wasn't letting her get away until he was finished. Sorry wasn't what he wanted to hear and he wasn't stopping until he broke through to her. Dean hit her harder, the slaps coming more quickly now that she was warmed up. "Sorry for what, lying to me, Sam? You know better and you don't fucking lie to me," he snapped at her, each word driven home by a hard smack to her already angry red skin.
“Ow! Yes, I’m… I’m sorry! I’ll never-fuck-I’ll never lie to you again!” Sam yelled out, shifting and twisting in his grip but unable to get away. Tears inevitably welled in her eyes and the cries of pain shifted into sobs for forgiveness. “Please, please! I’ll never… forgive me! Please, please, please!” she sobbed, shoulders shaking as she cried, arms wrapped tightly around Dean’s leg as though to assure herself that he wouldn’t leave her.
Dean was more relieved than anything when she finally broke down. He finished with another ten smacks, hard and fast, and then stopped, rubbing her back again gently to let her cry it out.
Shakily, Sam pushed herself up and off of Dean’s lap, only to turn and straddle him, arms and legs wrapping tightly around him as she shook and sobbed into his neck. “Don’t leave me,” she begged. “I’m so sorry, so sorry. Please don’t go, don’t leave me. Dean, please, please.” She clutched at him, terrified and remorseful, hands moving up and down his back as though to assure herself that he was there.
Dean wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back. "Shh, it’s okay," he assured her. He wasn't mad anymore and he knew that she needed to know that, needed to know that it was over and done with. "Not going anywhere, Sammie. I swear to you, not going anywhere," he promised softly into her ear as she buried her face into his neck.
Slowly, so slowly, the terror ebbed away and Sam settled. She kept her grip tight around Dean’s neck and hips, but her hands moved less frantically and more soothing, mimicking the rub of Dean’s over her own back. “I was so scared, Dean. I didn’t know what else to do.”
Dean nodded against her and sighed deeply. "I know, and I know I didn't make it easy on you back then, either. It's over now, though, and we’re good, okay?" he asked, pulling back to look her in the face. He kissed her eyelids and kissed the tear streaks down her face affectionately.
“Okay, okay,” Sam replied, eyes sliding open to look at him hopefully. A tiny smile tried to work its way over her mouth, encouraged by Dean’s kisses. “I love you, Dean.”
"I love you, too." Dean brushed her hair out of her face before bumping against her. Moving up, he kissed her mouth and smiled. Finally, the reality that she and JD were safe hit him and he could just be content and thankful for that. "Let’s go to bed, okay?"
“Yeah, yeah, I’m tired,” Sam replied and slid back and off of his lap. She grabbed the boxers from the floor and pulled them back on, wincing as the material scraped over her aching ass. She yawned wide and then carefully climbed up into bed, lying down to the far side of the wet spot so that Dean wouldn’t be left sleeping in it.
"Me too," Dean agreed as he got up and into bed. Getting in next to Sam, he sighed and yawned himself, suddenly so tired. The day and the stress finally gone, and nothing was left other than just his tired body and mush of a mind. He turned to face her, putting an arm around her waist and pulling into him.
Sam curled gratefully into him, an arm and a leg slung over him to bridge the minute distance between them. She sighed, relaxed for the first time in almost two years, and let the exhaustion that had been tugging at her the last few days drag her down.
Dean was curled protectively around Sam and asleep within seconds. He sighed deeply, burying himself against her. He hadn't slept in the past eight or so days and he needed to just pass out. She smelled so good and she felt so warm against him, it was being home.
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