FIC: Weapon of Choice: Chapter 3
Jul. 3rd, 2006 12:03 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xantissaTitle: Weapon of Choice
Fandom: Supernatural
Author: xantissa
Summary: A case turning out to be a set up. Sam taken away from him. An enemy he can’t identify. Father that struggles to understand. Dean, alone, fighting to save his brother from power no one can really understand.
Genre: Slash
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: 18+
Warnings: incest, slash, demon possession, violence.
Disclaimer: Supernatural and all it’s characters belong to WB. I do it just for fun, no profit being made from my writing.
Spoilers: Mild for Asylum, Nightmare tiny ones for probably most of the first season.
// - indicate journal entries
Chapter 3
The dawn found John Winchester sitting on his untouched bed and staring at his eldest son’s back as he slept. John came back somewhere in the middle of the night, making sure Dean was asleep before coming in. He stared at the handsome, strong man that his son had become and wondered if he lost him also. He wondered if it was the right thing to do, to show Dean the journal. But, he figured that Dean deserved to know after what happened in that abandoned building. After Sam, the creature that possessed him, kissed Dean and said that something of the host remains.
“He forgave you.” Dean said in a sleep roughened voice. He turned to look at his father noticing how haggard he looked. “He said that to me before he reached for that cursed knife. That you were wrong, but he forgave you long ago. He understood.”
John shuddered violently and rubbed his face with his hand.
“Oh God.”
Dean pulled himself up into a sitting position. He was pale and had dark circles under his eyes.
“Can you forgive me?” Asked John.
Dean looked up at his father, disturbed to hear the broken tone in his voice. He stared at his father for a long, long time. It hurt so damn much when Sam suddenly announced he was going off to college. Dean never understood why Sam left, why wasn’t he, their family, enough for Sammy. Now, he at least knew.
He also knew something more. From the journal, he learned so much more about his father, saw it black on white, that his dad would fight for him, that he did fight for Dean and even tried to protect him in his own way.
Finally, Dean moved to his father’s side and did something he hasn’t done in years. Simply hugged him, hard and long burying his face in the crook of his neck in a way he hadn’t done since he was a very small child.
“It’s okay, Dad. It’s okay. Now... we have a chance at least. A lure for Sam”
“A lure?”
Dean pulled back and looked into his father’s dark eyes.
“Me, Dad.” Dean said, his heart lighter now that he had something to work with.
John still stared at him, uncomprehending.
“Something of the host survives, and when did you last see Sam let go of something?” Den smiled. “He’ll come to me.”
John stared at his son’s happy face and wondered if it really was such a good thing? What Sam kept in check for the sake of his brother, the demon wouldn’t.
“Dean... you understand what it might mean?”
His son smiled, no fear in him, only calm conviction.
“It’s Sammy, Dad. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him.”
Somehow, that statement didn’t reassure John one bit.
* * *
Finding a real witch in Los Angeles proved to be much easier than he expected. A friend of a friend of somebody he helped a while ago knew one that actually knew what she was doing, besides conning stupid little schoolgirls that came for love spells.
There wasn’t such a thing as a love spell, but there was something close to it and that was what Dean came for. A spell that was similar to the spell a succubus would cast. Just not as powerful.
If he wanted to lure Sam to him pretending to be... receptive, he needed it to look really good or it wouldn’t work. He thought about it long and hard, and he couldn’t imagine Sam touching him in a sexual way. Couldn’t even think about sex with him. It was just... gross. They were brothers!
But the journal opened his eyes to some things, some ways that Sam acted and Dean had always chalked it up to his brother’s sulky disposition. Still, he carefully refused to think just what it was Sam wanted. His mind still balked at the image, so he didn’t think about it. If only Sam had adopted that rule, his life would be so much easier. If you can’t deal with something, don’t think about it! Dean always lived in the here and now, because in their line of work tomorrow might never come, so what good it would bring to think too much about what could happen?
He refused to admit to the nervous fluttering in the pit of his stomach as he waited for the witch to come back with supplies. He already put the picture of Sam he held in his wallet and his brother’s tee-shirt on the table in front of him.
Finally, a middle aged woman with horrible makeup emerged from behind the curtain.
“I have to tell you, this is the first time somebody has asked to have a spell cast on himself. Definitely, a first in my book. And a desire spell? On somebody as young as you?” She totted “What a shame. So young and already can’t get it up!”
Dean bared his teeth at her, leaning over the table enough for her to see the gun in his shoulder holster.
“Shut up witch and do your thing. Unlike your other clients, I know just who you are and what would hurt you the most.” He casually reached for one of the jars she had lined up on the shelves. Most of them were just props really, meant to scare and disturb her gullible clients. But a few were real, powerful and so very expensive herbs that would really hurt her to lose.
“Be careful!” She shrieked when he pretended the jar slipped from his fingers.
“Oops! Clumsy me.” He said staring her right in the eye. He really didn’t have time for petty games right now.
Her face twisted in anger but she subsided, finally understanding that crossing Dean right now wouldn’t be a good idea.
“Okay, okay! I’ll do what you want.” She started mixing some herbs murmuring under her breath. There were no flashes of white nor any kind of noise. Just the sound of cars passing on the outside and the faint echo of a stereo from the apartment above.
“I understand the spell is for you. Who is it about?” She asked, all business now.
He gestured the things on the table. She took the picture first and studied it with narrowed eyes.
“He is your brother.”
So maybe she was really a witch, because he didn’t tell her that. Dean only raised his brown in a ‘so what?’ gesture.
She nodded, accepting that it obviously wasn’t her business and reached for the tee-shirt. As soon as she touched it, she jerked her hand back with a curse and a hiss.
“Shit.” She cradled her hand against her chest and stared at the piece of clothing as if it had sported a head and pair of tentacles. “Shit.” She said again.
Dean failed to mention that Sam was now possessed by a demon, didn’t think it was important. He was now changing his mind.
“Your brother is very powerful. There is no way I will be able to touch him with any of my spells.”
“But the spell is for me. Can you still do it?”
She looked at him considering.
“You are very serious about it?”
“Yes.”
“Fine. But I can’t touch the cloth, so you have to cut of a piece of it.” She gave him scissors and he cut off a piece of sleeve.
“Now what?” He asked holding the scrap of clothing in his hand.
She put a candle on the table.
“Burn it.”
When the cloth caught fire, she sprinkled some more herbs over it murmuring words Dean didn’t really want to hear. When the smoke became thick and kind of sweet smelling, she took his hand and poised it over the smoke. He felt a shiver run over him as she touched the leather bracelet on his wrist.
“There. The spell is bound by the bracelet. When you want to break it, just take it off and burn it.” She instructed already busy putting everything away.
He blinked, surprised how easy it was. Surprised that he didn’t feel any different.
“That’s it?” he asked a little bit confused.
The witch scowled at him.
“What did you expect? Lightning bolts? A chorus of angels? Fireworks? If I could do that, you think I would be selling fake love potions?”
Feeling sheepish, Dean ducked his head and gathered his things.
The witch watched him in silence. When he turned towards the door, she called after him. He stopped, having a feeling she wanted to tell him something important.
“Your brother has a lot of power. Angry, raw power. But just because it’s powerful and scary, it doesn’t mean it has to be evil.”
He looked at her in silence for a minute considering her words. But in the end, it didn’t matter if what took Sam was evil or not. He just wanted to have Sam back. And if it required him to get fucked by his little bro’ then hell, he would be on his back so fast…
* * *
The witch watched him go and wondered if the boy knew just what he himself was. Because she sure as hell had no fucking idea.
TBC
Fandom: Supernatural
Author: xantissa
Summary: A case turning out to be a set up. Sam taken away from him. An enemy he can’t identify. Father that struggles to understand. Dean, alone, fighting to save his brother from power no one can really understand.
Genre: Slash
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: 18+
Warnings: incest, slash, demon possession, violence.
Disclaimer: Supernatural and all it’s characters belong to WB. I do it just for fun, no profit being made from my writing.
Spoilers: Mild for Asylum, Nightmare tiny ones for probably most of the first season.
// - indicate journal entries
Chapter 3
The dawn found John Winchester sitting on his untouched bed and staring at his eldest son’s back as he slept. John came back somewhere in the middle of the night, making sure Dean was asleep before coming in. He stared at the handsome, strong man that his son had become and wondered if he lost him also. He wondered if it was the right thing to do, to show Dean the journal. But, he figured that Dean deserved to know after what happened in that abandoned building. After Sam, the creature that possessed him, kissed Dean and said that something of the host remains.
“He forgave you.” Dean said in a sleep roughened voice. He turned to look at his father noticing how haggard he looked. “He said that to me before he reached for that cursed knife. That you were wrong, but he forgave you long ago. He understood.”
John shuddered violently and rubbed his face with his hand.
“Oh God.”
Dean pulled himself up into a sitting position. He was pale and had dark circles under his eyes.
“Can you forgive me?” Asked John.
Dean looked up at his father, disturbed to hear the broken tone in his voice. He stared at his father for a long, long time. It hurt so damn much when Sam suddenly announced he was going off to college. Dean never understood why Sam left, why wasn’t he, their family, enough for Sammy. Now, he at least knew.
He also knew something more. From the journal, he learned so much more about his father, saw it black on white, that his dad would fight for him, that he did fight for Dean and even tried to protect him in his own way.
Finally, Dean moved to his father’s side and did something he hasn’t done in years. Simply hugged him, hard and long burying his face in the crook of his neck in a way he hadn’t done since he was a very small child.
“It’s okay, Dad. It’s okay. Now... we have a chance at least. A lure for Sam”
“A lure?”
Dean pulled back and looked into his father’s dark eyes.
“Me, Dad.” Dean said, his heart lighter now that he had something to work with.
John still stared at him, uncomprehending.
“Something of the host survives, and when did you last see Sam let go of something?” Den smiled. “He’ll come to me.”
John stared at his son’s happy face and wondered if it really was such a good thing? What Sam kept in check for the sake of his brother, the demon wouldn’t.
“Dean... you understand what it might mean?”
His son smiled, no fear in him, only calm conviction.
“It’s Sammy, Dad. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him.”
Somehow, that statement didn’t reassure John one bit.
* * *
Finding a real witch in Los Angeles proved to be much easier than he expected. A friend of a friend of somebody he helped a while ago knew one that actually knew what she was doing, besides conning stupid little schoolgirls that came for love spells.
There wasn’t such a thing as a love spell, but there was something close to it and that was what Dean came for. A spell that was similar to the spell a succubus would cast. Just not as powerful.
If he wanted to lure Sam to him pretending to be... receptive, he needed it to look really good or it wouldn’t work. He thought about it long and hard, and he couldn’t imagine Sam touching him in a sexual way. Couldn’t even think about sex with him. It was just... gross. They were brothers!
But the journal opened his eyes to some things, some ways that Sam acted and Dean had always chalked it up to his brother’s sulky disposition. Still, he carefully refused to think just what it was Sam wanted. His mind still balked at the image, so he didn’t think about it. If only Sam had adopted that rule, his life would be so much easier. If you can’t deal with something, don’t think about it! Dean always lived in the here and now, because in their line of work tomorrow might never come, so what good it would bring to think too much about what could happen?
He refused to admit to the nervous fluttering in the pit of his stomach as he waited for the witch to come back with supplies. He already put the picture of Sam he held in his wallet and his brother’s tee-shirt on the table in front of him.
Finally, a middle aged woman with horrible makeup emerged from behind the curtain.
“I have to tell you, this is the first time somebody has asked to have a spell cast on himself. Definitely, a first in my book. And a desire spell? On somebody as young as you?” She totted “What a shame. So young and already can’t get it up!”
Dean bared his teeth at her, leaning over the table enough for her to see the gun in his shoulder holster.
“Shut up witch and do your thing. Unlike your other clients, I know just who you are and what would hurt you the most.” He casually reached for one of the jars she had lined up on the shelves. Most of them were just props really, meant to scare and disturb her gullible clients. But a few were real, powerful and so very expensive herbs that would really hurt her to lose.
“Be careful!” She shrieked when he pretended the jar slipped from his fingers.
“Oops! Clumsy me.” He said staring her right in the eye. He really didn’t have time for petty games right now.
Her face twisted in anger but she subsided, finally understanding that crossing Dean right now wouldn’t be a good idea.
“Okay, okay! I’ll do what you want.” She started mixing some herbs murmuring under her breath. There were no flashes of white nor any kind of noise. Just the sound of cars passing on the outside and the faint echo of a stereo from the apartment above.
“I understand the spell is for you. Who is it about?” She asked, all business now.
He gestured the things on the table. She took the picture first and studied it with narrowed eyes.
“He is your brother.”
So maybe she was really a witch, because he didn’t tell her that. Dean only raised his brown in a ‘so what?’ gesture.
She nodded, accepting that it obviously wasn’t her business and reached for the tee-shirt. As soon as she touched it, she jerked her hand back with a curse and a hiss.
“Shit.” She cradled her hand against her chest and stared at the piece of clothing as if it had sported a head and pair of tentacles. “Shit.” She said again.
Dean failed to mention that Sam was now possessed by a demon, didn’t think it was important. He was now changing his mind.
“Your brother is very powerful. There is no way I will be able to touch him with any of my spells.”
“But the spell is for me. Can you still do it?”
She looked at him considering.
“You are very serious about it?”
“Yes.”
“Fine. But I can’t touch the cloth, so you have to cut of a piece of it.” She gave him scissors and he cut off a piece of sleeve.
“Now what?” He asked holding the scrap of clothing in his hand.
She put a candle on the table.
“Burn it.”
When the cloth caught fire, she sprinkled some more herbs over it murmuring words Dean didn’t really want to hear. When the smoke became thick and kind of sweet smelling, she took his hand and poised it over the smoke. He felt a shiver run over him as she touched the leather bracelet on his wrist.
“There. The spell is bound by the bracelet. When you want to break it, just take it off and burn it.” She instructed already busy putting everything away.
He blinked, surprised how easy it was. Surprised that he didn’t feel any different.
“That’s it?” he asked a little bit confused.
The witch scowled at him.
“What did you expect? Lightning bolts? A chorus of angels? Fireworks? If I could do that, you think I would be selling fake love potions?”
Feeling sheepish, Dean ducked his head and gathered his things.
The witch watched him in silence. When he turned towards the door, she called after him. He stopped, having a feeling she wanted to tell him something important.
“Your brother has a lot of power. Angry, raw power. But just because it’s powerful and scary, it doesn’t mean it has to be evil.”
He looked at her in silence for a minute considering her words. But in the end, it didn’t matter if what took Sam was evil or not. He just wanted to have Sam back. And if it required him to get fucked by his little bro’ then hell, he would be on his back so fast…
* * *
The witch watched him go and wondered if the boy knew just what he himself was. Because she sure as hell had no fucking idea.
TBC
