Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/557815.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major
      Character_Death, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester, Original_Character/Original_Character
  Character:
      Dean_Winchester, Sam_Winchester, Bobby_Singer, Ruby_(Supernatural),
      Original_Characters
  Additional Tags:
      Wincest_-_Freeform, AU_from_the_end_of_season_03, Dreams, future!fic,
      Sorta_of, I_Don't_Even_Know
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-11-08 Updated: 2014-05-13 Chapters: 9/? Words: 9788
****** Scenes From A Memory ******
by Mystik
Summary
     Dave never knew what those dreams meant,never understood why he had
     them. Until now.
Notes
     Beta'ed by Kiraynn. AU from the finale of season 03. Based on the cd
     from Dream Theater.
***** Regression *****
As soon as the doors closed they were all over each other. The taller one was
pressed against the flat surface, the pain in his back caused by being
manhandled barely noticeable as he was drowning in the kiss that followed.
They harshly ground their groins together, the friction enough to make them
fully hard. The younger man gasped as the kiss ended, his big hands grasping
the waist in front of him desperately as though it was a lifesaver. His eyes
were wide, the pupils almost black with arousal.
"Dean...fuck me," was the whisper that escaped his swollen lips.
The older man, Dean, growled and pressed the taller one against the wall even
harder. His green, gorgeous eyes were burning with lust and love.
"Don't need to ask twice, Sammy," he hissed.
Dean and Sammy kissed again, more desperate and needy than before as they
stumbled onto the tiny bed, the mattress groaning in protest of their combined
weight. Sammy straddled Dean's thighs, his ass grinding against the older man's
cock trapped inside his jeans. Dean groaned, his hands grabbing the other man's
buttocks; squeezing before he popped the two buttons open on the front of Sam's
pants.
When Dean's hand found Sammy's cock, the younger man moaned and arched his
back, his hips undulating against those fingers. The other hand trailed over
his back, entering the unfastened jeans as the forefinger sought and teased his
hole.
"Dean...Dean..." moaned Sammy, not knowing where to push; against the fingers
on his cock or the fingers on his ass.
"Want some more?" the rough voice sent shivers down his spine. Dean slid a
single finger inside of him, igniting sparks of pleasure across his body. "Tell
me."
Sammy opened his eyes, looking down at his brother. The flushed skin making his
arousal spike higher.
"Do it already, big brother."
 
 
Dave woke up with a start, his body propped up against the headboard and his
heartbeat fast against his ribcage.
They were brothers. Those two were brothers.
Yeah, now he would see a doctor. Something must be done, because those dreams?
They had to stop.
 
 
TBC
***** Overture 2008 *****
"I still can't believe you have this piece of crap."
"Wash your mouth out before you talk about my baby."
 
Scott laughed loudly, slapping Dave on the back. They entered the '67 Chevy
Impala and Dave started the ignition, smiling at the loud rumble of the engine.
"You know I'm just messing with you. I love this car. It's so… classic."
"You better. I drive your ass to work every day in it."
Scott laughed again and rested back against the comfortable leather seats, his
dark locks falling into his green eyes. Dave smiled despite himself. He could
never stay mad at him for more than five seconds.
"So, about those dreams of yours," Scott said seriously. "Why'd they leave you
so messed up last night?"
Dave sighed, drumming his fingers against the wheel. The low sound of Rush
filled the silence.
"You know how I always dream about those two guys driving in a car just like
mine? Listening to some classic rock and stuff and carrying guns and knives,
right?"
"Yeah, so you have dreams with a couple of lunatics or killers. So?"
"For a few days I've dreamt about them... having...well, having sex." Dave was
close to blushing.
"Now that's something interesting," replied Scott with a smirk. "Was it hot?"
Dave smiled at that. Scott had been his friend since high school, even though
he was the new guy and the brunet was in his senior year. The difference of
three years hadn't mean anything to them; they had shared everything since
then.
Even the common taste for people of the same sex.
Some of his friends and even his parents always asked him how nothing had
happened between him and Scott. The answer wasn't that simple.
Sure, Dave thought Scott was hot. Really hot, actually. But he was his friend
and there were never any sparks between them.
"Yeah, it was kind of hot. Those two are fucking gorgeous," replied Dave, his
smile widening when his friend laughed. "Especially the short one. He was blond
and had the body of a fucking Adonis."
"You dreamt about them having sex all the way? My gosh you're such a pervert,
Dave!" exclaimed the brunet between bursts of laughter. "So why is it bothering
you now?"
Dave fell quiet for a moment, his brown eyes staying trained on the traffic
around them. "Last night I had a different dream. I dreamt that the blond
one... whose name is Dean by the way, died. But it was so strange. He was being
ripped to shreds as the tall one, Sammy or something, was stuck at the wall
screaming for it to stop. But there was nothing visible there ripping the Dean
guy."
"Question: how is that even possible and how do you know those names?"
"Because I dreamt about them having sex again last night and they called each
other that," explained Dave with a sigh, "and last night I also discovered that
they're... brothers."
Scott gasped. "What?"
"Yeah, you heard me. Man I was getting sick of dreaming about them every night,
but now? I'm gonna dream about two brothers having dirty, hot sex? I need a
doctor."
He felt the calloused hand on his shoulder and sighed at the comforting
gesture. Dave glanced sideways and his eyes widened.
 
Instead of Scott next to him, it was Sam. He smiled, his dimples appearing at
the corners of his mouth and his hazel eyes were full of love.
"Don't worry. No matter what, I'm going to save you, Dean."
Dave screamed and pulled away, covering his eyes. He felt the hand on his
shoulder slip off and the car lose control over the road.
"Dave!"
===============================================================================
"Here you go."
 
Dave accepted the cup of coffee gratefully, his eyes downcast. Scott ruffled
his red locks as he sat next to him. They were at the hospital for minor
injuries; luckily Dave's car just barely went off the road before hitting a
lamp post. He couldn't even imagine what he would do if he had hit someone.
"What happened back there, man?" asked Scott, scooting closer to him.
"I saw him again," he shrugged. "The Sam guy. When you touched me I saw him in
your place. I told you Scott, I need a doctor. I'm losing my mind here."
Scott sighed, still stroking Dave's hair. He bit his lip, trying to figure out
what to say.
"I don't know about you man, but if I told a doctor about these dreams like
you're having, they would lock me up. Don't you think?"
Dave just nodded.
"So, in my point of view... if you really want to find a solution, we should
try another alternative."
"Like what?"
"Have you ever heard of regressive therapy?"
"You're not serious," Dave mumbled, looking his friend in the eye for the first
time since the accident.
Scott smiled. "Man, you're the guy who's having dreams about incestuous
brothers."
 
Dave laughed hollowly at that. He shook his head then sipped a bit of coffee.
"I don't know why I listen to you."
"Because I'm awesome."
"Smug bastard," Dave whispered.
"Whining bitch." replied Scott, ruffling his hair again.
===============================================================================
"Are you ready, Mr. Sterling?"
 
Dave looked at Scott one last time before his friend left the room. He focused
on the doctor, some random brunet guy with thick glasses perched on his nose.
It was kind of funny actually. Dave tilted his head up, looking at the ceiling.
"Yeah, let's do this."
The doctor put some instrumental song, just for background purposes, but he
could still hear the clock ticking in the room.
"Close your eyes and try to relax. Take a deep breath and let it out slowly."
Dave did as he said the best he could. The doctor started counting backwards
from ten to one.
"Remember Dave: any time you need to come back, all you have to do is open your
eyes."
The redhead felt his eyelids tremble slightly before he opened his eyes. He no
longer was in the doctor's room, pitch black all around him. He raised himself
from where he was currently laying down, trying to find some solid ground so he
could try to walk.
Suddenly on his right side, far away, a door could be seen through the
darkness. Dave started walking slowly and carefully, since he couldn't see the
floor. The closer he got to the door it increased in size until it was as large
as an iron gate like the ones that could be found in cemeteries.
Great. His mind was both crazy andcreepy. Dave approached the big door and
touched its surface, finding that it was made of solid wood. Maybe oak. He slid
his hand through it, trying to find a knob.
 
You're my weak spot and I'm yours.
 
He turned around as he heard the voice, recognizing it as belonging to that
Dean guy. A shiver ran down his spine and he turned to the door once more.
Suddenly he could see the iron knob, it's surface glowing faintly in the dark.
Dave's hand reached for it and he took a deep breath.
He needed to know. He needed to discover why he had those dreams. He needed
them to stop.
His hand turned the knob and a brilliant white light shined in the open door
making him blind for a few seconds. He let go of the knob and covered his eyes.
That was when he heard Sam's voice.
 
Even if I have to go to hell myself, I'm going to save you Dean. And if I lose
my mind, my sanity, my heart along the way, I'm cool. Because my soul... will
be forever yours.
 
"It's time to go back to the past," the doctor said in a low tone to his
sleeping patient.
 
 
TBC.
***** Strange Deja Vu *****
New Harmony, Indiana, 2008.
 
The night was dying on the horizon and the street was deadly quiet. A man was
running passed the cars, heading towards one of the houses near the end of the
street. Dave was following close behind, curiosity getting the best of him.
The man shoved the door open and ran through the corridor until he reached the
office, both he and Dave freezing at the door.
Sam was on the floor sobbing openly and hugging Dean's body, blood pooling
around them.
"Sam," spoke the man with a low, deep voice as he stood nearby.
"I failed, Bobby. I couldn't save him," gasped Sam between sobs, hugging Dean
tighter.
 
Dave felt his chest tighten painfully, his breath shallow. Why did he feel so
desolated all of a sudden? Looking at the scene before him, he shared the same
despair that Sam was feeling and the sensation was suffocating.
"Sam, we have to go. With Lilith gone, the demons were freed from their
leashes."
 
Dave widened his eyes. Wait a minute? Demons?
"I don't fucking care!" Sam shouted, making the Bobby guy take a step back. He
looked at Dean again, his hand softly ruffling his blond hair as if combing the
short locks. "I don't have a reason to care anymore," he said with a bitter
smile.
"You can't be serious."
"Try me."
"I'm having a déjà vu," the man sneered, attempting to approach him. "You and
your brother are the most selfish morons I've ever met, and that's saying
something. Do you think your brother would want to watch you like this?"
"Just... leave me alone, Bobby," Sam said tiredly.
The man sighed and turned on his heels to walk out of the room, leaving Sam
still combing Dean's hair. Tears gathered in Dave's eyes and he felt like he
could see himself in Sam's place. It must be terrible to loose a brother like
that.
Sam sniffled, trying to stop crying, and he hugged Dean again resting his face
against the cold cheek.
"Even if I have to go to hell myself, I'm gonna save you Dean. And if I lose my
mind, my sanity, my heart along the way, I'm cool. Because my soul... will be
forever yours."
 
The same whispered words he'd heard before. Dave tried to approach them but the
scene started to fade. He couldn't stop the images from disappearing and soon
he was in the dark again. He looked around, trying to situate himself but to no
avail.
Soon, another scenario appeared right before his eyes. It was a plain, two
storey house situated in the middle of the night. Dave blinked, trying to
adjust his vision to the low light. He frowned at the sight of the blue glow
that was coming from the living room, realizing that somebody's television was
on.
He walked slowly and cautiously towards the blue glow, noticing that nobody
seemed to be able to see him. He entered the living room and scanned the place
until his eyes focused on a man sleeping on the couch. The light from the
television was illuminating his features, so Dave approached to observe him
better.
He had some age lines, but nothing too deep. He was wearing a robe adorning his
body, and his brown locks were falling on his forehead leaving a mysterious
shadow. The redhead was curiously drawn to him, like some relative you would
see in a family album but never knew.
Suddenly a scream echoed throughout the whole house. The man woke up with a
start then got up quickly, running to the stairs as Dave followed him. They
both stopped at one of the bedrooms, obviously a nursery given the baby theme
all around them. The man sighed in relief as he went to the crib on the other
side of the room and smiled as he caressed the tiny baby's forehead.
Until some dark drops fell onto his hand.
Dave looked at the ceiling at the same time the man did and gasped in shock
when he found a blond woman staring back a them, blood staining her white
nightgown from the deep cut in her stomach.
"Mary!"
Seconds after Dave heard the man's shout, the woman caught on fire. On fire.
Dave could not believe his eyes. The man dropped on the ground, covering his
eyes in horror. The cry of the baby caught both their attentions and Dave
watched as the man took the child from the crib and ran out of the room. Dave
followed them and saw a little blond boy, no older than four, with wide eyes
and a bewildered look on his face.
"Dad?" he squeaked.
The man carefully placed the baby in the boy's arms. "Take your brother outside
as fast as you can." When the boy didn't move, the man shouted, "now Dean, go!"
 
Dave's eyes widened. That was Dean?! He watched the man, Dean's dad, run back
to the room and without hesitation he followed the little boy. They ran
together down the stairs and outside the house; the little boy stood on the
garden, feeling the wet grass beneath his bare feet as he held the baby in a
tight and protective embrace.
"It's okay, Sammy. I got you."
That baby was Sam? That freakishly tall guy? Dave realized in shock.
The scene started to disappear once more and Dave rushed to the boy's side,
trying to hold him, grasp him. But his hands passed right through.
"Dean!" Dave exclaimed before the darkness came again.
===============================================================================
"I'm sorry."
 
John looked away from Missouri, his eyes falling on the floor. He smiled
bitterly as he watched Dean help ten month old Sam to crawl towards his
favorite toy. The coaching soft words that emerged from his lips were a
blessing.
After Mary's death, Dean hadn't spoken for almost one month. He would walk
around the room where they were staying at Missouri's with this far away look,
only smiling for Sam.
Sam was the joy of their lives. John didn't know if Dean could have survived
the trauma without his little brother to distract him, still innocently
oblivious to the whole tragedy .
Then, one night, Sam woke up crying and Dean ran to his crib. He picked the
baby up carefully and sat on the floor, resting Sam on his tiny lap. But the
baby wouldn't stop crying. John climbed out of his bed and began to walk
towards them when a hand stopped him. He looked up to find Missouri watching
his boys. She nodded at him, indicating he shouldn't interfere.
The blond boy start trying to make Sam sleep again, but the baby didn't seemed
to want it. Dean's beautiful little green eyes started to shine with tears but
he just gulped, swallowing them down.
"Sammy, don't cry. Please."
 
John felt his own eyes fill with tears when he heard his older son's voice
after so long. And apparently Sam was waiting for that too, because right away
the crying stopped little by little until the baby was only lightly sobbing.
"What are you going to do now?"
The question brought John back from his memories and he looked at Missouri once
again. His steeled his heart, absorbing the news he just heard from the woman,
then stood up and straightened his coat.
"Can you watch them this afternoon? I have take care of some things and I'll be
back tonight."
Missouri stood up as well, her mouth twisted into a frown. "John Winchester,
don't tell me you're going to track this thing down with two children under
your watch."
"I don't have to say it, you just did," replied John. Before she could give any
answer, he walked toward his sons.
Dean looked up, smiling brightly. "Hey daddy. Look, Sam almost got it. Next
thing I'll show him is how to walk properly!"
John smiled and crouched down, ruffling Dean's hair. "Son, be nice to Aunt
Missouri. Daddy will be right back, okay?"
Dean just nodded and picked Sam up by the waist, pulling him into his lap. The
baby protested a little bit, before laughing and squirming on his brother's
legs. He looked up and raised his arms towards John, gurgling something
unintelligible. The man just kissed the top of his forehead before he stood up.
Casting a glance at the woman once more, John left the house.
 
He had to prepare himself if he wanted to find Mary's killer.
 
 
TBC.
***** Through my words *****
His hazel eyes blinked open and he looked around, trying to analyzing the place
he found himself in.
Good. It was time.
He got up from the bed and padded towards his duffel that was lying on the
second empty mattress. A little habit he couldn't quite lose. Upon opening it
he searched around until he found the dagger he was looking for. His fingers
slid over the Latin inscription that was written on the side of the sharp,
shiny blade.
"Are you ready?"
He turned around to face the woman. Her brown eyes twinkled in the low light at
the stoic look on his face.
"I guess that was a stupid question."
"Let's get this over with, Ruby."
The woman waved her hand in the air. "Right. I forgot how hasty you can be
sometimes, Sam. Follow me."
Sam left the room with the demon, trailing her steps across the parking lot of
his current motel until they reached the road. Across the way was an empty
field; the only sound of the night being the cars that passed by now and then.
As they reached the destined place, Sam could see the sigils and symbols on the
ground as well as the candles around them.
"Going to start a fire?"
"Not if it works," Ruby replied easily. "Although, I have to ask if this is
really worth it, Sam. You could just as easily save your brother if you awoke
your powers."
"Let's not discuss that again, shall we?" Sam said coldly. He took his shirt
off, moving to drop on his knees in the center of the largest incantation
symbol.
Ruby rolled her eyes, taking off her jacket. "Yeah, I forgot it was your
brother's dying wish or something." She approached him expectantly. "Dagger."
Sam took a deep breath as he extended his hand to give the weapon to her. She
circled his body, analyzing everything around and about him.
"Okay, all set." Her brown eyes turned black for a few seconds and all the
candles lit simultaneously. "Ready to die, Sam?"
The young Winchester looked at the sky, the memory of green eyes making his
heart clench painfully in his chest. He breathed deeply, closing his eyes.
"Yeah."
 
 
Dave woke with a gasp. The body next to him moved just a little and he blushed
as he realized it was Scott.
Since he had been going to the therapy sessions, his friend offered to stay at
his apartment for a few days. It wasn't like they hadn't slept on the same bed
before; but now, since he started that whole dream thing, every time he looked
into Scott's eyes he would remember Dean.
"You okay, Dave?"
The redhead blinked and looked at his friend, smiling faintly. "Just a dream."
Scott arched his eyebrow. "A dream? Or a dream?"
Dave closed his eyes, rubbing his fingertips against his forehead. "Yeah, one
of those. It was with Sam. I think..."
"What?"
Dave looked at his friend. "I think he killed himself to save his brother."
 
 
TBC.
***** Fatal tragedy *****
He watched the scenario around him as he waited for the librarian to come back
with his request. There was only one other person in the public library - a
petite girl barely in her twenties who was engrossed in some thick math book.
Impatiently he tapped his fingers to the rhythm of some old Led Zepellin song.
Since his first regression session his dreams had changed, become stronger and
even more real than before.
"Dave?"
The redhead looked up and smiled as his friend sat in front of him. Scott slid
his bag between his feet.
"So, why we are meeting here?"
"You remember I told you how my dreams were changing?"
"Yeah?"
"So I came here to look for some news, some information, anything that could
help me," Dave shrugged. "I know it's a long shot, but it's worth a try.
Right?"
Scott bit his bottom lip, a thoughtful look on his face. "What do you expect to
find?"
Before he could answer, the librarian came back with a stack of folders. Dave
and Scott coughed as dust flew off the papers when they were placed down in
front of them.
"Here you go, dear. It was quite difficult to find since the date you asked for
was about twenty five years ago, but I finally succeeded. I hope it helps."
"Thank you," Dave smiled and the woman waved her hand, turning back to her
desk.
Scott stood up and went around the table to sit next to him. "I wonder what she
found."
"Let's see."
He opened the first folder to find an old newspaper with the bold letters:
 
'Satanic Ritual Kills Fifteen People in West Virginia.'
 
Dave arched his eyebrow, becoming more and more surprised as he got further
into the article. Apparently a lunatic, Sam Winchester, was creating a satanic
ritual with his brunette girlfriend and they sacrificed fifteen people so it
could work. That was so off.
"Are you sure you want to discover more about Psycho Sammy?" Scott whispered,
reading the article as well.
"He's not a psycho!"
"Well, this news clearly says otherwise."
"He's not, all right. I just...know."
"Why, because you dream about him?" the brunet retorted.
"Well...yeah."
Scott picked up another folder with a huff. Dave didn't dignify him with a
reply; instead he just went on reading.
 
'According to the local police, the only witness of the case was a old man,
Robert Singer, who knew Sam Winchester. The sheriff, Carl Banks, informed us
the old man was very upset about the events and kept repeating that Sam wasn't
responsible for the deaths.
"That's a lot of bullshit," said the sheriff in answer. "All the evidence
points to him. The candles, the knife and the sigils. Unfortunately freaks like
these exist out there and sometimes we're not quick enough to stop them."
The investigations are still ongoing and the police said that Bobby Singer will
be investigated as an accomplice.'
 
Dave worried his bottom lip. He put the article aside and moved on to the next
one but it wasn't much better. Apparently Sam, along with his brother Dean,
made quite a fuss along the country with things like murder, robbery, fraud.
Those were just the beginning.
"His brother was quite the charmer, don't you think?" asked Scott, showing him
a picture of the older brother from when they were once caught by the police.
"No wonder you have the hots for him."
"Scott!"
True, the redhead was more and more intrigued and fascinated by Dean
Winchester, but he wouldn't say that to his friend. The few vague visions he
had about the man in his dreams and his sessions showed a very complex person.
He couldn't be the ruthless bastard all those reports were trying to say he
was.
"You have a crush, how cute."
"Shut up, Scott."
The brunet laughed and kept on reading. Dave did the same and they were silent
for hours.
===============================================================================
He was trying to keep as silent as he could as he moved through the shadows of
the house looking for it. The whole living room was a stack of books and dust
as familiar as a home could be. He passed his hand over the wall until he found
what he was searching for and with a smile he pushed the secret button. From
the revealed hole in the wall he plucked out a wooden box with a small package
tucked inside.
"Stop right there."
Sam turned around and raised his hands, still clutching the package. The light
was turned on and he stared at Bobby with guilty eyes.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, son?" Bobby narrowed his eyes, a
shotgun pointed at him.
Sam bit his bottom lip. "Sorry Bobby, but it's the only way."
"Because Ruby said so?"
Sam sighed. "You don't like her, fine. I get it."
"Oh that's not it, boy. I don't trust her."
"I don't trust her, either. But so far, she's the only one who came up with a
solution."
"You think that ritual is the only solution?" exclaimed Bobby. He sighed and
lowered the shotgun.
"Four months, Bobby," Sam whispered, lowering his hands as well. "And what did
we find?"
"We can search more. We can look for another sources, son."
"I'm tired of waiting, Bobby!" exclaimed Sam indignantly. "I did nothing but
search for Lilith and for a way to save Dean in these last months and now…now I
have a chance. Hope."
With a saddened expression, Bobby raised the shotgun again. "I'm sorry Sam, but
you know I can't let you do this."
Sam smiled bitterly. "I know that. That's why earlier I put sleeping pills in
your beer. Apparently with you they took longer to have an effect."
Bobby widened his eyes as his vision started to fade. He let the shotgun drop
and Sam caught him before he fell on the floor.
"I'm sorry, Bobby."
The old man raised his face and caught sight of the tears that were glinting in
Sam's hazel eyes before he blacked out.
 
 
Dave opened his eyes with a gasp, clutching at the arm holding him. His breath
was labored and short. He looked around him, startled to find himself on the
floor of the library.
"Hey Dave, are you okay?"
Dave slowly sat up, Scott's arm still in his hand as the librarian moved close
to him in concern.
"Dear, do you want me to call an ambulance?"
The redhead lowered his eyes as Scott put a protective arm around his
shoulders.
"Thank for your concern miss, but he's like this when it's too hot. I'll take
him outside so he can have some fresh air."
The old woman nodded and helped the brunet raise Dave from the floor. Slowly
they gathered their things and walked out of the public library. Once in the
car Scott made Dave sit on the passenger side of his Impala, and he closed his
eyes as he rested his head against the leather seat.
"What that was about?"
He turned his eyes towards Scott, who was gripping the steering wheel tightly.
His lips were a thin line.
"What happened?"
"You fainted on me, man! You said you weren't feeling well and then you just
blacked out!" exclaimed the older man and Dave knew Scott was scared because he
never freaked out like that.
"I'm better now, I just…" the redhead sighed. "It was another dream."
"Oh, that's it." Scott turned the engine on, taking off out of the parking lot
and slipping into the slow traffic. "We're taking a road trip."
"A what?" Dave looked at his best friend with wide eyes.
"These dreams are starting to affect your everyday. So you want to research
about what happened twenty fucking five years ago? We'll do it."
Dave gasped, utterly surprised. His house came into view. "You mean…"
"Yeah. We're going to West Virginia."
 
 
TBC.
***** Beyond this life *****
"Yes, mom. I know, mom. It's just for a couple days, okay? Yeah, Scott is with
me. What?" Dave passed his cell phone to his friend without taking his eyes off
the road. "She wants to talk to you."
Scott arched one eyebrow and picked up the phone. "Hi, Miss Sterling. Yeah,
he's helping me out with something that came up." Scott laughed. "No problem,
I'll take care of him. You too, Miss Sterling. Bye."
Dave huffed. "My mother loves you more than her three children combined."
"It's the green eyes," Scott laughed.
Dave snorted, having heard that same excuse since he was fifteen. He looked at
the map lying on his friend's legs, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.
"So…which interstate?"
"The next one, so pay attention," the brunet answered without looking up.
Dave nodded and pushed his foot down harder on the gas pedal.
===============================================================================
West Virginia.
 
Dave parked the Impala in front of the police station and cut the engine. He
took a deep breath, looking over at his friend.
"Are you done taking your deep breaths?" Scott arched an eyebrow. "Good. Let's
go."
They stepped out of the vehicle and entered the old building. Dave looked
around and grabbed his friend's arm.
"What do we say?"
"You didn't think of that?" hissed Scott, looking sideways at him.
"No…"
Scott rolled his eyes and yanked his arm away. He walked towards the wooden
desk and smiled brightly at the bored lady working behind it.
"Good morning, dear. Having a slow day so far?"
Dave sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. If he didn't know any better he
could swear Scott would be a ladies man. But, well… he was more like a men's
man. He smirked when he saw the older woman smile back. Yep, nobody was immune
to his friend's charm.
Five minutes later they were following Jackie (the lovely lady's name) towards
the closed case section, eyes watering from the layers of dust around them. She
stopped in front of one of the boxes and looked at them.
"This is the case you mentioned, sweetie. It's labeled Closed Case but the
assassin never got caught."
"Really?" asked Dave curiously.
"Yeah sure. The young man killed himself along with all those poor people; the
woman who was with him however? They never found her."
Scott and Dave exchanged glances. Scott smiled and laid his hand on Jackie's
shoulder.
"Thank you so much, sweetheart."
Dave watched the woman blush and he muffled his laugh. She mumbled something
unintelligible and left them alone to go back to the reception desk. They set
the box and set it on a round table, coughing as more thick clouds of dust rose
into the air.
"I don't know why the hell I agreed with this," Scott muttered, rubbing his
eyes.
"Because you're the best friend ever?"
Inside the box was a pile of files so they took out a random bunch and spread
them out over the table.
"And don't you forget it."
Dave huffed and they started to read all the details related to the mass murder
that happened twenty five years previous.
===============================================================================
He had been driving non-stop for two days now. He couldn't afford to eat or
rest properly. If he lost anymore time it would be too late. The only thing he
could do was drive faster and dial Sam's cell phone number once again, and like
the n umerous times before the only response he received was the voicemail.
Luckily before long Bobby saw the sign indicating that he had just entered the
city of Wallfare. He'd learnt a trick or two in his time and Sam wasn't even
trying to hide anymore.
Which was more terrifying in Bobby's opinion.
The night was pitch black without stars, the motel on the left side of the road
the only illumination. He entered the parking lot and stopped his pickup,
fighting back a shiver as cold wind passed through him directly before a sudden
piercing scream broke the silence. Bobby ran into the direction of the scream
and found the receptionist of the motel, a girl barely sixteen years old,
clenching a hand to her stomach as she coughed up pools of blood. As her body
started to collapse Bobby ran forth and caught her in his arms, saving her from
hitting the pavement.
"Girl, are you okay? What happened?"
"They're here! The monsters are here!" coughed the girl, more blood spilling
from her trembling lips.
He looked outside and his eyes widened.
Black smoke, tons of it, was everywhere. He pulled the girl to her feet but she
pushed him towards the exit.
"Go... save yourself."
As he tried to reply one of the clouds of smoke floated through the doorway and
passed through her body, literally tearing her apart. The blood splattered
everywhere in a explosion of red and Bobby grabbed his gun, hastily firing rock
salt against the smoke.
It shrieked loudly and retreated just as quickly as it had come.
There were lights coming from the other side of the road. Bobby grabbed a
shotgun and a bottle of holy water from his pickup and raced towards it.
"You cannot win, Winchester!"
The furious scream spurred Bobby on. He crossed the road in quick strides to a
big field of dead, scratchy grass. As he approached he could distinguish two
figures partially surrounded by more thick clouds of the black smoke.
It was Sam and some brunette girl.
"Sam!" screamed Bobby, quickening the pump of his legs.
Sam turned around and the sight of him made Bobby freeze on the spot; he was
covered in blood, only some of it his own, emerging from numerous cuts of
bruises along his body. His eyes were a burning gold and his thin lips were
stretched into a smile.
"Bobby."
The low voice, so much like the Sam he used to know before Dean died, was what
made him run again.
"Sam!"
Sam opened his arms and the black smoke around him swirled and shrieked in
response. The brunette beside him was watching the scene without emotion in her
eyes. But when he tried to approach Sam, she quickly moved to block him.
"Let me go passed right the fuck now."
"I can't. You'll interrupt the spell, Bobby."
He was shocked for a second that she knew his name. Then he narrowed his eyes.
"Ruby?"
She nodded and looked at Sam. "We can't do anything right now. The spell is
done and it was his choice."
"But what the hell are those demons all around him, and what the hell happened
to that poor girl at the motel? She was ripped apart by one of those
creatures!"
"Sam doesn't know that."
He gripped her by the neck, almost choking her. "What did you do?"
Her eyes turned black, staring hard into his own. "What Sam asked me. He wanted
a spell, a way that he could save Dean. He doesn't have to know the price that
will be paid."
"I'll kill you."
"Too late. The spell can't be reversed. Now... all we have to do is wait."
"Wait for what, you bitch?" demanded Bobby, letting her go.
She raised her hands at her neck to touch the marks left by Bobby's fingers.
The shrieking from the smoke rose in volume.
Ruby smirked. "For the right time."
The smoke screeched, sounding as though it was many different voices in unison,
and swirled like a hurricane around Sam. Bobby partially covered his eyes to
protect them but could still see enough of what happened; Sam caught the dagger
he'd stolen from his house and plunged it deep into his own heart. He coughed
as the blood filled his mouth, but he the smile never left his lips even as he
turned the knife, plunging deeper. He dropped to his knees and found the
strength to tear the knife out of his chest, the blood gushing like a fountain
from the wound.
"You'll never have Dean, bitches!" shouted Sam, his voice hoarse and failing.
The light surrounded them like a bubble and Bobby was suddenly being thrown
backwards with Ruby.
Then there was nothing but darkness.
===============================================================================
"Dave?"
The young man opened his eyes and looked around. They were still in the closed
case room and the light from outside was fading behind the only window.
"Did I fall asleep?"
"Yeah. You're weak, man. Can't even stand reading for such a long time."
Dave stood from the chair and stretched his arms above his head. He didn't
notice Scott's attention focus on the flash of skin that appeared between the
top of his pants and the hem of his ridden-up shirt. He yawned and rubbed his
eyes, looking at his friend.
"So, what do we have so far?"
Scott shrugged. "The same crap we found back home. And I bet if we go through
the old sheriff's files, we'll find the same story."
Dave scrunched his nose, sneezing a little bit at the dust. Scott was right;
the whole city firmly believed that Sam made a satanic ritual that ended up
killing fifteen people. But the redhead knew that wasn't true. It was a feeling
in his gut telling him something wasn't quite right with the story.
"Hey, Scott?"
"Yeah?"
"Is the address of the witness in the file?"
"You mean Robert Singer?"
"Yeah."
The brunet looked through the police files for a few moments until he
exclaimed, "found it! At the time he had a salvage yard in South Dakota. Wow,
that's days drive from here."
"Do you think he's still alive?"
"Well, they do have his phone number here, too. Why, Dave? You're not thinking
about paying him a visit, are you?"
Dave looked at his friend, biting his bottom lip. "He has a different version
of the events from the cops, I can tell you that. I just want to hear what he
has to say."
Scott rubbed his face. "First I really need a good night's sleep and some
food."
"Fine by me."
 
After thanking Jackie and putting everything back in the places they found
them, they left the police station.
===============================================================================
"Singer Salvage."
"Hi... does Robert Singer still live there?"
"Just a moment."
He heard the woman yell something. A few minutes later somebody picked up the
phone.
"This is Robert."
Dave let out a breath he didn't know he was holding at hearing the old, old
voice. "Hi, Mister Singer. My name is Dave Sterling and... look, this'll sound
very strange for you sir, but... did you know Sam and Dean Winchester?"
There was a long pause and for a moment he thought the man had hung up. Then,
the old voice grew cold and he felt a shiver run down his spine.
"Who are you, boy?"
"Like I said, my name is Dave. I know this is crazy but I've been having...
dreams with them. Dean and Sam, I mean. And I came a long way to find this
number because I had to call before going to your place, so we could talk face
to face."
Another pause.
"How long is it going to take for you to arrive here?"
Dave smiled, relieved. "Two, maybe three days. Thank you, sir."
"You can call me Bobby. And Dave, right?"
"Yes?"
"If I have the slightest doubt about you, you better not have a family waiting
for you."
Dave swallowed. "I understand."
Both hung up and Dave looked at Scott.
"So?" urged his friend.
"Looks like he's waiting for us."
 
 
TBC.
***** Through her eyes *****
When she first emerged out of hell it was like breathing a gulp of fresh air.
She missed the world and the various sights, sounds and scents that covered it
like a patchwork blanket.
After that, she received her mission; corrupt Sam Winchester. Make him into the
true general he was born to be. She didn't know why she was chosen when there
were so many other demons who could have done the job, but she gladly accepted.
When she first met Sam she was completely fascinated. Everything about him
exhaled power and charisma. She was instantly aware of why Azazel chose him as
his favorite.
She believed her mission would be completed with minimal effort until the day
she met her obstacle named Dean Winchester. Even though Dean had only one year
to live before being dragged to hell for the crime of selling his soul, he
still had great influence on Sam.
But she wasn't chosen for nothing, after all. She began to exploit the weakness
between the brothers with her own choice of tactics, pushing Sam into the
direction she wanted him to go in.
 
It worked.
When the year ended and Dean's soul was dragged down below, she found Sam not
one week later, and three words barely left her mouth before he agreed with her
plan to save Dean.
The plan was very simple actually. The spell's purpose was to wake Sam's latent
powers, binding him to the army of demons that awaited his command. But the
catch was that he would have to die and be reborn as the true leader of hell
first.
Not that he knew of all those tiny little details of course.
So when the time came, Ruby performed the ritual while barely being able to
conceal her true happiness deep inside herself. She couldn't allow herself to
show her true plans to Sam until he was reborn, unwilling to jeopardize
anything and make him suspicious.
She didn't count on the plan backfiring.
Somehow the spell created the explosion that killed numerous people in that
small, shitty town and the ritual was exploited on the local news. So
unfortunately she had to dispose of her chosen host body and get a new one.
Another thing was that Sam hadn't gotten to be reborn right away. In fact, it
was several months before he came back to the world as a newborn baby. Thus she
had to wait another twenty five years for her plan to be able to work.
But she was patient. If there was one thing she learned in hell it was that
when you bide your time properly, you could achieve anything.
 
The wait was finally coming to an end.
 
 
TBC.
***** Home *****
The Winchester brothers were closer than any brothers in the world. Losing your
mother at an early age, then having to live your life moving from town to town
with a father that could be killed at any moment during a hunt of monsters,
demons, or ghosts could do that to you.
That's why when puberty hit them full force, they couldn't deny what had been
steadily brewing between them anymore.
Dean was the first. Feelings of lust and guilt tormented him every day because
of his innocent, ten year old little brother who didn't know how his over-
affectionate nature was plaguing Dean's hormones.
Sam did notice however, that little by little Dean was drawing away from him.
He was hurt by his big brother's attitude and couldn't understand why.
Those two years of distance were the worst of their lives so far.
 
When puberty hit Sam around his twelfth birthday, it dawned on him why Dean
acted the way he did. The same forbidden feelings had begun to take over Sam's
thoughts, plaguing him day and night. They did their best to simply act like
normal brothers should; bickering and fighting all the time.
They were too afraid to see that normalcy wasn't part a Winchester's life and
never would be.
John was too involved in his own lust for revenge to notice what was happening
in his own house. Granted, he was barely around to notice much of anything.
And that was why on the night after Sam's sixteenth birthday, with John away on
another hunt, everything changed.
===============================================================================
Sam slammed the front door as hard as he could, his quick steps echoing on the
hardwood floor. Dean was fuming as he followed him inside seconds later.
"Sam!" he shouted, throwing his leather jacket and car keys on the couch.
"What the fuck do you want?" snarled the teen from his bedroom doorway.
"Anything else you wanna say to ruin my night?"
In five quick strides Dean reached Sam and grabbed his collar, shoving him
roughly against the wall and pinning him there.
"God damnit, Sam!" growled Dean, his green eyes blazing. "What the hell do you
think you were doing, going to that party without even telling me? And when I
finally find you, you're fooling around with some guy!"
Sam smirked coldly and grabbed Dean's wrists, shoving him away. "What? The idea
of me with another guy disgusts you that much, Dean?" Sam's muscles tensed in
preparation for a fight. "Didn't know you would be such a homophobe!"
Dean snarled and shoved Sam into the bedroom. "I don't care if you like girls
or boys!"
"Liar!"
Dean grabbed him again and yanked him forward, their faces so close that when
he talked, voice low and dark, his breath ghosted across Sam's mouth. "I can't
stand the thought of anyone but me touching you."
The younger teenager drew in a sharp breath. "Dean…"
"Shut up."
Dean released Sam's shirt to grab his hair, his fingers entwining in the brown
locks to pull him closer. "I can't take it anymore, Sam."
 
They closed the short distance between their lips at the same time, kissing
deep and rough. Sam panted and moaned, wrapping a leg securely around Dean's
hip. He desperately wanted to climb his brother; kiss him and swallow him
whole.
Dean grabbed Sam's ass with both hands and hauled him up into his arms. Sam
immediately tangled both legs around his waist, closing the distance further
between their bodies. They hissed simultaneously as their erections rubbed
against each other.
"Dean…"Sam broke the kiss with a gasp.
Dean walked the few steps to the bed with Sam in his arms and threw him onto
the mattress. Sam slid backwards and tore off his shirt, tossing the fabric
aside. Dean growled low in his throat at the sight of Sam's naked chest,
quickly removing his own shirt as well. Their heated gazes stayed locked as
they hastily took off their shoes and socks.
 
This was it; the point of no return.
Dean's green eyes were dark and dangerous as he climbed onto the bed, stalking
towards his brother. Sam spread his legs, wantonly revealing the hard bulge of
his cock, eager and leaking inside the confines of his boxers. Dean grabbed his
ankle and yanked Sam towards him, his fingers dragging up the other boy's leg
until his hand closed on Sam ' s cock, trapping and squeezing it beneath his
fingers. Sam moaned quietly as he stared at his brother's face.
Dean slid his zipper open, the sound echoing loudly in the small bedroom. Sam
lifted his hips to help as Dean pulled both his jeans and boxers off as one.
His freed, throbbing cock slapped against his stomach leaving a smear of
precome behind on his skin. Dean threw the clothes onto the floor and eagerly
pulled his brother closer.
"You're mine, Sam."
Before Sam could form a reply, Dean grabbed his long legs and put them over his
shoulders. He cupped Sam's ass in his hands and spread the firm globes. Leaning
down, he slowly dragged his tongue over the puckered rim.
"Dean!"Sam shouted. His muscles tensed, hands fisting the sheets.
Dean licked and bit at the tight, virgin hole. He used his thumbs to massage
the skin on either side of his tongue and as he felt the muscle start to relax
and give, he stabbed his tongue inside Sam as deeply as he could. Dean groaned
at the tightness he found, eager to feel it around his aching cock.
Sam tried to grab something, anything to help him to anchor himself, his body
sinking deeper and deeper into pleasure. He rocked his ass against Dean's mouth
as his moans grew increasingly louder.
After what felt like hours, Dean removed his lips and tongue with a soft wet
sound and dropped Sam ' s legs back onto the bed. Sam pushed himself to sit up
with shaking arms, his cock hard, dripping and angry-looking.
"Dean…"he whispered harshly. His fingers found the front of his brother's jeans
and he impatiently yanked them open. Sam shoved Dean's boxers and jeans down
just enough to free his cock, the hard length slapping against Dean's muscled
stomach.
Dean laid back on the bed and Sam climbed on top of him to straddle his lap. He
groaned as Sam's spat on his palm and took hold of Dean's length, coating it
with the slick fluid as much as he could. Dean grabbed Sam's waist and yanked
him forward, kissing and biting the smooth skin of his jaw line.
"You want it?"he growled.
"Fuck yeah,"Sam whispered back, rubbing the leaking head against his stretched
hole.
"It's gonna hurt,"panted Dean even as he guiding him where he wanted him. He
felt the bulbous of his cock head entering Sam's ass, stretching him wide
around his girth.
"Don't care."Sam hissed and lowered himself more on Dean's cock. The burn of
being split open was almost sweet and he'd never craved more of anything in his
life.
Even though the boys had denied themselves the intimacy for so long, they took
their time with the first penetration. Sam was almost sobbing in desperation by
the time the curve of his ass rested against Dean ' s thighs. The older boy
grabbed fistfuls of his soft hair and kissed him deeply. His cock was hot and
hard inside Sam's body and Sam rocked a little, a hiss releasing from his mouth
into Dean's at the friction.
"Fuck…"Dean broke the kiss with a gasp."Stop moving, Sammy…"
The younger boy ignored him, moaning as he shifted again. "Fuck me," he
breathed.
Dean ' s control snapped like a twig. He lifted Sam up until only the head of
his cock was inside and then slammed his hips up, tearing a cry from Sam ' s
lips. He can ' t go slowly after that. They start to move like animals; clawing
at each other, more biting than kissing. The room was almost immediately filled
with their pants, moans and growls.
"Harder, Dean…wanna feel you in my throat,"Sam gasped, clawing at his brother's
shoulders.
Dean growled and in one quick move rolled them over and pinned Sam against the
bed, thrusting at a brutal pace inside him. Sam spread his legs wider and
gripped the headboard, moaning louder.
The pent up tension sent both of them to the edge extremely quickly. Dean had
barely wrapped his fingers around Sam ' s cock when he started coming long and
hard, thick white spurts covering his stomach and chest. Dean roared when Sam
clamped tightly around his cock and two thrusts later he filled Sam to the brim
with his come. He kept moving through his release, his cock sliding easier as
he thrust lazily a few more times into the loose and wet channel.
Dean carefully extracted himself from Sam and flopped onto the bed beside him.
Sam rolled over and draped himself over Dean's chest, raising up to meet his
lips for lazy, sated kisses. Dean slid his hand down Sam's sweaty back,
following the dip of his spine to the swell of his ass. His fingers slipped
into the crease, rubbing against the loose, wet and swollen hole.
Sam gasped against his mouth. " Dean …"
"Let's talk later,"Dean whispered back, his fingers easing inside Sam.
 
They stay awake all night.
===============================================================================
The world didn't know about their secret. Few people suspected, but nobody
could be certain.
The years passed. Sam's big fight with their dad about school resulted in him
and Dean spending four years apart. Then there was the tense six months after
Jess's death.
But their bond ran deeper than both brothers knew. It survived everything:
Cassie, Sarah, Dad, Madison, Azazel, and Lilith until Dean died, ripped apart
by the hellhounds. Sam thought it was the end until Ruby of all people came to
him with a solution. But if his brother taught him anything it was to always
look a gift horse in the mouth, so Sam quickly discovered what Ruby ' s spell
was about.
That was around the time he discovered how to change it. He did so without Ruby
knowing because he still needed her help with the rest of the ritual.
He hadn't meant to kill fifteen people on the way. But despite his mistake in
the end the spell worked. He and Dean would be reborn away from all the hunts,
all the deals, and all the life that had torn them apart.
 
 
TBC.
***** Dance of eternity *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Dean always knew what he was supposed to do on Earth, since he was very little.
Since his dad pushed that tiny bundle in his arms and told him to run. He was
supposed to protect Sam. Take care of him. Even if cost his life.
For some reason, that never bothered him. He was his brother, a piece of his
mother that was there after she was gone. Even though, as they grew up, Sam was
more like his father than his mother, Dean sometimes could see her in those
hazel eyes. The kindness and the love.
He never meant to transform that duty, that love, into something else.
 
When he and Sam slept together for the first time, he couldn’t even begin to
describe the amount of guilty he felt afterwards. Oh, sometimes, he could hide
well from his brother. But Sam always ended up finding out.
At first, Sam was enraged. And then sad. And then he understood and made
everything to make Dean see that what they had was real and worth fighting for.
 
At least until Stanford. Until this day, that was the most sore point in their
history together. Dean didn’t remember being so pissed off in his life as he
saw Sam storming out after the shout out with his father, slamming the door and
never coming back. He silently went after him and the sex was almost vicious, a
fight of teeth, bones and muscle, the two of them intending to leave an imprint
on each other.
Four years of radio silence. A feeling of profound jealousy when Dean found out
about Jessica. And then…the road again. And it felt like they never left. Felt
like they never stopped being…them. SamandDean together, for good.
Until Dean failed and let Sam be killed. People say that when you see the love
of your life die in front of you, that your sanity dies with them. They were
right. Because only that could justify why Dean made that deal.
And now, here they were, looking at each other, as the clock stroke midnight,
and they could hear the hellhounds howling and coming from him. As Lilith let
them in and he could feel his body tear open under those phantom teeth, the
pain surpassing anything he ever felt in his life, all he could think about was
that he hoped that Sam would be okay. If that happened, he could die in peace.
 
===============================================================================
 
Time was different in Hell. Dean felt like years in there, being tortured,
ripped apart over and over again. Being bitten, scratched, stabbed and burned.
Only for his body to regenerate and everything start all over.
And all the while his voice was screaming for Sam, screaming for his brother.
He doesn’t know how much time he spent suffering through this process. He
couldn’t even tell apart anymore.
 
Until one day, when he was tethered to hooks, his skin being pulled apart, he
heard a sound amongst the screams around him. It was like a bomb going off. The
demons around them scrambled to check the sound and soon agonizing screeches
could be heard. Dean tried to move, but the hooks sank deeper into his body. He
closed his eyes, gritting his teeth against the pain.
"Dean.”
He thought he was allucinating when he heard that voice. He opened his eyes,
widening them when he saw Sam in front of him. But it wasn’t the Sam he always
knew and loved. He was circled by a dark aura and his eyes were glowing. But
the smile was the same relieved smile Sam always had.
“Sam? I’m dreaming again?”
He touched Dean’s shoulder and the hook imbedded there disintegrated. He did
that to all the hooks and caught him when his weak body failed to support
itself.
“I’m real. And I’m here to save you.”
Dean hugged Sam’s waist, looking up to those glowing eyes.
“Sammy…what did you do?”
Sam smiled guiltily and Dean remembered all too well the times he saw that
gesture. Hell haven’t destroyed that.
"Do you trust me?”
The simples question made Dean sigh in pain. He approached Sam more and kissed
his jaw lightly, a gesture Sam knew it belonged to his brother alone. Sam
smiled and closed his eyes as well, letting the power inside his body involve
both of them, pieces of hell falling around. His mind was focused on only one
thing:
 
'We deserve a second chance.’
 
 
 
TBC
Chapter End Notes
     You guys, rejoice! If this chapter is up, it means I FINALLY getting
     over my writer's block, and that for me it's a cause to celebrate. :D
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!