FIC: Weapon of Choice: Chapter 18
Jan. 14th, 2007 10:43 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xantissaI know it's been long and it's a short chapter but I was too busy. My exam session is starting, again, so gah. I have to study. Anyway I was rething what I planned for the story because I want it to end soon, before I loose interest. Some of the plots will remain unsolved, but don't worry the boys will be dealt with :))))
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.
Thanks for beta to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
plutogirl10
Chapter 18
Dean shifted in the sinfully expensive leather seat and stroked the silky hair under his hand absently. He looked down at Sam’s sleeping face. He looked pale and had dark circles under his eyes. He didn’t look peaceful at all. He knew well enough that it was the drugs that made him sleep. And that was odd. For all his knowledge of all things Sam, Dean had expected a vicious fight this morning when Sam asked what the pills Dean had given him were for. Instead Sam just looked empty eyed at the bottle and then, without a word shook out two pills and swallowed them dry.
He became calm and docile, very sleepy afterwards. Not saying a word, he just lay down again and closed his eyes. Not long after, his brother was in drug induced, heavy sleep.
It took Dean a while to realize that Sam had actually taken the cowards way out. He was escaping his pain, his memories into the obliviousness provided. It... disturbed Dean. The easy, almost defeated way Sam just took them. He didn’t even try to fight. Dean would rather hear his angry words and screams than this silence. This docile man sleeping with his head on Dean’s thighs wasn’t his brother. He just wore his face.
Sam didn’t wake up when their father called and told them to pack and for Dean to give the keys to the Impala to whoever comes to the door and asks for them.
When the knock came, Dean answered the door, gun firmly in hand. He nearly swallowed his tongue at the sight in front of him.
There were two men. Casually clothed. Average in almost every way. Except when he didn’t look too closely he could swear he was looking at himself and Sam. Their faces weren’t really the same as his and Sam’s but there was a very strong similarity. The faces, the build, the body language, the clothes.
“What the fuck.” Dean just stared, unaware that he even drew the gun out.
The men just looked at him. The smaller one, with a cocky grin and gelled up hair extended his hand, palm up.
“Keys dude?”
And Jesus but he even talked like Dean.
Dean just got his cell out and dialed Dad without once taking eyes from the pair in front of him. The signal ringed once, twice and then John answered.
“Yes?”
It was still odd to have Dad actually answering his phone, not letting it go directly to voicemail.
“Why there are two fucking doppelgangers on front of me?” He asked, almost casually, his gun still trained on the patiently waiting men.
“Doppelgangers?”
“Yes Dad. fucking Doppelgangers. Of Sam and me. And you want me to give them Impala? The Impala? My fucking baby?” Dean couldn’t stop the swearing. It was just too much.
“Hell, Sarah was right. The man is good.” John muttered, not really wanting Dean to hear.
“What man? Dad, what is going on?”
“Listen. Just give them the keys.”
“What for?” Dean insisted. It was THE Impala after all. It’s not like he would just give it to some random guys just because... his Dad ordered him to. Fuck.
He could almost hear John rolling his eyes. “Of all the things it has to be that damned car that makes you question my orders. Okay then. They are going to take the car and drive around the country a bit. The point is they are going to be driving in the exact opposite direction to where we are going. Satisfied? Not stop stalling. Give them the keys, finish packing and get Sam down to the underground parking lot a block away from your building. A car will come to take you from there. Understood?”
Dean mentally deflated.
“Yes sir.”
Gritting his teeth he gave the car keys away.
His double had the audacity to wink at him while he pocketed the keys to Dean’s beloved baby.
“You give her even a scratch, and I will fucking hunt you down and eviscerate you.” Dean growled low in his throat.
After that it was a simple job to pack what few belongings they actually had there. It was much harder to wake Sam up and make him walk on his own. He kept messing up the steps, tripping over his legs and looking like a total addict on a bad trip.
Still it was good he was walking on his own strength because there was no way in Hell that he would be able to support the freaking mountain that was his younger brother. Sometimes life just wasn’t fair. At all.
So they got to the parking lot after some stumbling and fumbling. It was almost empty. It was eleven in the morning on Monday and most people were at work. There was no one around. So Dean was just going to settle for a long wait when he heard an engine purring gently. He watched, with a kind of sick awe as a freaking black limousine with tinted windows slowed down to a stop in front of him and Sam. A driver, complete with a damn uniform and cap, got out and opened the passenger doors.
“Mr. Winchester?” It was polite and completely impersonal. The man stared at some point just over Dean’s shoulder. Never making eye contact. Never even looking directly at any of the brothers.
He bent down to grab the bags but the driver was already halfway there.
“Let me take care of that.” For a moment Dean considered fighting him, just on principle. But hell, it was a damn limousine! He was so going to enjoy it.
So Dean tugged his brother inside and settled himself comfortably on the incredibly soft, leather seats. Sam, docile like a lamb, just shuffled lower and lay down, pillowing his head on Dean’s thigh. Going back to sleep.
Dean let him. They would talk about his sudden love for pills later, when things started making a little more sense.
He heard the driver put their bags into the trunk and then got back into the car. Soon they were driving onto the road and Dean felt even more confused than before. What the Hell was going on?
“Where are you taking us?” Dean asked, grateful for the press of gun against his back and the blade in his boot.
“To the meeting place.”
“Yeah, and who are we supposed to meet?”
The driver didn’t take his eyes from the road even once.
“I’m not privy to such information. I just drive.” His tone was final. He was not going to discuss it.
* * *
John snapped his phone shut and took one last look around his motel room. He hadn’t spent much time here. He changed the grip on the bag and went out to check out.
He caught a glimpse of Sarah, with a similar duffel bag at her feet already waiting on the parking lot.
It only took a moment to check out and he was crossing the parking lot to her. Her golden hair, loose and shifting on the light breeze gleamed like gold in the early morning sun.
“I packed everything that didn’t look like it belonged to the motel.” Sarah smiled at him, a little unsure. A little apprehensive. She didn’t want him to go. He could see as much. But she never said a word. And John was grateful for that. Because he would have left her anyway. His sons now so much more important than any kind of relationship he could have with her.
“It’s good.”
They stared at each other, the day surprisingly calm around them. Silence and only the warm sun rays caressing them. Her eyes glowed amber and gold, soft and feline.
Sarah turned her eyes to the side, breaking the contact. John watched her lick her lips as if she wanted to say something, but in the end she just closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She let it out slowly, loudly. Her face lost the sublime tension that was there ever since morning.
When Sarah opened her eyes, they were dark and old somehow. In that one moment, between one breath and another she looked every bit like the woman that could never end.
Her lips moved but no sound came from between them as she reached out toward John’s face and touched his forehead.
There were no flashes of lightning, no angels singing nor did the earth split. But John knew that she did something. Something big and important. He could feel it in the way his heart stuttered for just one moment. In the way his skin felt cold and clammy, goose bumps almost painful beneath his clothes and the feeling of heavy coldness that passed through him in a single heartbeat.
Sarah blinked and her eyes were the warm amber again that he got to know so well.
“What did you do?” John asked, still shivering a little.
She gave him a sad, small smile. The air was warm and almost still around her, only the occasional sound of a car engine breaking the almost otherworldly calm.
“When the time comes, I want to be the one to lead you through. I don’t want it to be something as nameless as Death. You deserve better.”
John opened his mouth to say something, but nothing much came out. It was just too much. For him, a man that hunted supernatural being for half his life, one that knew from bitter experience that you can’t kill death, can’t escape it. Now or a year later, it will always get to you.
Now he was told that Death wouldn’t come for him. That when things came to an end, when his body gave out on him, it wouldn’t be Death that came for him. It would be Sarah.
It was scary and disturbing. An odd gift to receive. But it was also very her. Even after everything that happened John still didn’t really believe, not deep down, in the kind of power she claimed she had. He couldn’t. If he did, it would mean that Sarah was one of the things he hunted.
Touched with an uncomfortable thought, John reached for Sarah. His palm closed over her warm shoulder.
“Sarah. Who comes for you?”
She smiled, but it was just a grin. Just her lips curling in a small, insignificant grin. Her eyes remained solemn and warm, with a hint of something sad behind them.
“No one.”
He opened his mouth, but once again there was nothing that he could say. He was never good at expressing his feelings and all those years of hunting only made it worse.
“I’m sorry.” He said finally.
She smiled. A small but honest smile.
“You don’t have to be. I get to live again. To make my dreams true. To taste and see things I always wanted to see.”
Looking into her amber eyes, John could see that she truly believed that. She did enjoy her life. Just living.
“You are amazing.”
And she was, John understood that now. Understood with a shocking clarity just what had drew him to her so strongly. She suffered a tragedy, a horror liked the one he lived through. His life stopped the day Mary died. He did nothing for himself. Just to avenge his wife and keep his children safe.
Sarah on the other side lived. She laughed and played, dreamed and strove to make the dreams real. She had friends, and pets and was truly happy to be alive even though the shadows of memory still haunted her. John hadn’t lived in twenty three years.
She cocked her head to the side, a cascade of beautiful, blonde hair falling over her face and one arm.
“It’s just a choice I made. You can do it too, you know. Be happy. There is no one that would begrudge you happiness. Not your children, nor your wife.” She said it gently, slowly. And John barely even flinched at the mentioning of Mary.
He didn’t answer but he leaned down to kiss her. A soft goodbye of a sorts. One he could never say with words, but he could with his lips and hands.
She felt good in his arms. Like she could belong there. Soft in all the places he touched, full and curvy in a way that was fashionable a few hundred years ago and now frowned upon.
Her hand slid under the lapel of his jacket and played over his shirt, just below his heart. She kneaded the flesh there gently.
John could feel a gentle smile tugging at his lips. A lot of women were attracted to his musculature but she definitely had a kink here.
The sound of a cell phone chirping caused them to pull apart. Sarah was flushed and her lips were swollen, tender looking. John was grateful for his whiskers, hiding his own reaction.
As he watched her answer the phone, John shifted trying to get rid of the slight embarrassment at the very public display.
“Yes, we’re done.” Sarah said not really managing to hide the slightly breathless quality to her voice. “Okay. We’ll be there in ten minutes tops.”
John took his cue from her and pulled the car keys from his pocket. He opened the trunk first and threw the bags inside.
“Where to?” He asked when he got behind the wheel and started the truck, looking at Sarah fastening her seatbelt from the corner of his eyes.
“I’ll lead you.” She smiled gently at John. “A car is waiting to take you to your sons.”
* * *
Marakaj leaned back in his custom made chair and put his arms behind his head. Things were going well. Sarah accepted his help which gave him a kind of leverage he wanted. With a pleased sigh he closed his eyes and relaxed until it was time to go and meet up with the Winchester family.
There was a hard, brisk knock at his door and then the sound of footsteps. He didn’t even bother with opening his eyes. Only one person knocked like that and disturbed him any time she liked. Kyra Moore, his right hand. She handled the part where his family became his corporation. Tough as nails, loyal and intelligent, she was one of the very, very few who weren’t intimidated by him. She was a half breed too. Half human, half Grhu-ha to boot. That was probably the reason for her attitude. She had a choice. To become a victim because neither world accepted what she was, or become strong enough that other’s thought twice about messing with her. Most of the time, Marakaj suspected she just didn’t give a damn one way or the other.
“I heard about the little plot of yours.” She stated, sitting herself comfortably in the visitors chair.
“Already? It’s been just a few hours.” Marakaj murmured opening his eyes and yawning lazily.
Kyra was a dark haired, attractive woman. She grinned at him, all teeth and attitude.
“You really should fire that assistant of yours. He has no spine whatsoever.”
Marakaj laughed.
“It’s not his spine or the lack of thereof that is his problem. It’s the fact that he has a crush on you.”
Kyra rolled her eyes. Marakaj never actually saw her interested in a man in any other way than appreciating their physical attributes. She was worse than any man on that front.
“Why are you getting involved with a hunter like that? It’s not very politically correct of you. It’s causing some... unrest.”
And there was one more thing to Kyra. She came from the shady area where no one was fully human or vampire. No family, no connections, she met a lot of people like her. Friends in low places, that might have been a cliché, but when it came to rumors and moods running through his people, she knew everything a lot sooner that any of the higher standing vampires.
“Who?”
She sighed.
“Andrew’s son. He’s a pompous jerk, stupid and full of himself, sure that he can lead his family so much better than his father. And he hates your guts.”
“I’ll take care of him after I finish with the Winchesters. Personally.”
She turned her gaze away. Kyra knew he was as likely to rip the boy to shreds as to talk to him, and didn’t approve of his violent nature. But she’d stopped arguing about it a long time ago.
“So why did you decide to help the hunter? Sarah Andrews is neutral. Everybody knows that.” She pressed.
Marakaj smiled, his unique eyes slanting and teeth gleaming.
“Because of the 21st.”
Her brow furrowed.
“The council meeting?”
“No. The party that happens before. Guess who will be accompanying me?”
Her brows rose.
“Well, that will definitely shake things up.”
Marakaj smirked and looked at his watch. Time to go.
* * *
Dean shifted as he felt the car slow down and then stop in front of an elegant, five story building of chrome and glass. The driver got out and Dean shifted again, pushing Sam into a semi sitting position and reached for the Glock he had hidden before getting into the car. He made sure the gun was loaded and easily reachable before hiding it again.
The door opened and a man got in. Dean looked up at him, and well, that was all that he did. He stared. The stranger was tall and big, his body even bigger than Sam’s. But he was fucking beautiful. Face pale and smooth as if chiseled in marble, eyes slanted in quiet amusement that had the most incredible shade of navy blue he ever saw on a human and his black, straight hair fell over his powerful shoulders like a wave of black silk.
An obviously expensive white shirt clung to his body in all the right places and a massive, silver watch circled a strong wrist. It unnerved Dean, just how aware he was of the sheer physicality of this man. How he noticed all the tiny details, noticed how the man stretched his legs in the space between seats, how the well tailored slacks showed off his strong thighs, how his fingers were long and strong and so very sensual... and throughout it all he was aware of the amused smirk firmly in place.
“My name is Marakaj. All this…” He gestured to the limo. “Is mine.”
“Why are you helping us?” Dean asked, unsure, on edge, worried about his brother.
The man smiled, a crooked amused twist of his lips and sprawled even more in the seat.
“We have a friend in common. And I just love the fact that John will have to explain it to you.” He looked pleased, and incredibly sexy sprawled back on the soft, black leather. His loose hair fanned out behind him, a black curtain of silk. The man was damned attractive and he damn well knew it.
Dean felt another wave of uneasiness. The man was attractive, too damn attractive for Dean’s peace of mind, but there was also something wicked in his voice.
“Explain what, dude?”
The man smiled wide, showing all his teeth.
“Me.” There was a glint in his strange, beautiful eyes. “And the fact that I am a vampire.”
Dean didn’t even have to think about it. Years worth of training made him reach for the gun he kept hidden and point it at the still smirking man.
He only smiled wider, stretching his long, powerful body, totally unconcerned.
“You actually think a gun can stop me if I wanted to do something?” Marakaj asked clearly enjoying himself. It set Dean on edge more than anything else.
“No.” Dean answered keeping his hand steady and eyes firmly on the other man. “But it will slow you down.”
“Oh really?” Marakaj smiled, his white teeth gleaming in the semi dark interior of the car. In less than a heartbeat Marakaj had the gun wrenched away from Dean and one inhumanly strong hand closed over Dean’s throat. He wasn’t strangling the older Winchester, yet. But the possibility was there.
“Now.” Marakaj drawled, that insufferable smugness still present in his incredible eyes, even if his voice had now another, a lot more dangerous quality. “You were saying something?”
Dean was regretting his actions now. The man was obviously trying to help, and Dean acted without thinking. Now he could either end up dead or the man could refuse to help anymore. Both ways, it would be Sam that suffered the consequences of his brash actions.
Fuck.
“Dean.” The word was slurred, his brother still more asleep than awake. “Wha’s goin’ on?”
Double fuck.
Dean wasn’t sure what happened then. He saw a slow, sluggish movement from the corner of his eye. Heard Sam murmur something and then Marakaj was off him and in the opposite seat, hissing and pressing one of his hands to his right side, his odd eyes fixed on Sammy.
Dean shifted, trying to cover his brother somehow from the strange, intense gaze. His little brother slid down the seat again and laid his head on Dean’s lap. Sleeping again. Completely unaware of what he had done.
“What the hell is he?” Asked Marakaj, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling the cloth away from his muscled stomach. On his side was one angry, bleeding burn. The skin was obviously scorched, all the layers of skin were gone in what looked loosely like a palm print. The exposed flesh looked incredibly painful and vulnerable. Dean had to give the man credit, he thought. When he watched Marakaj calmly pick pieces of burned flesh through cloth from the gaping wound. The vampire closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.
Right in front of Dean’s eyes the wound started healing. Fresh pink skin started growing back, connecting the scorched edges. Soon the only sign that there ever was any damage was the burnt through shirt.
“I have seen a lot of Sarah’s Weapons. But never something quite like this.” Murmured Marakaj watching the now sleeping Sam.
Both men stared at each other, the tension thick in the air and Sammy sleeping, oblivious to the conflict.
The limousine pulled to the curb and the driver got out. They could hear the sound of the trunk being opened and closed and then the side door opened. Neither Dean nor Marakaj took their eyes away from each other.
John slid into the car and his nose twitched. Over the years he became all too familiar with the smell of blood and burning flesh.
Carefully he looked over the situation. Sam was sleeping, his head in Dean’s lap. Dean was tense, one hand in his brother’s hair the other clenched into a tight fist. His eyes fixed on Marakaj. One of his son’s favorite Glocks was laying on the floor between the seats.
Marakaj was sprawled on the opposite seat but there was a subtle undercurrent of tension in his body now that John hadn’t seen before. His shirt was undone, showing the sculpted chest. On the right side there was a burnt through hole but the flesh beneath looked unmarked. The vampire’s eyes were fixed on the sleeping from of his youngest son.
“Is something wrong?” John asked cautiously, sensing the tension.
Dean twitched, threw an angry glare at John and opened his mouth, but then snapped it shut without a word. Obviously he wanted to fight about something, but doing it in front of Marakaj wasn’t a good idea and Dean recognized it.
Marakaj sighed theatrically and pulled his shirt off. Then threw it to the floor. His muscles flexed and John caught a glimpse of a huge tattoo of a dragon on his back. The vampire opened a hidden compartment in the side of the car and pulled out a black plastic bag. He rummaged in it until he found a tee shirt and pulled it out. Not embarrassed in the least that he was being carefully watched, he pulled it on. The black cotton stretched over his powerful chest and outlined the sharp lines of muscles very clearly.
He chucked lightly.
“Like what you see?” He asked as he opened another compartment and pulled a bottle of clear liquid. And a glass. Both Winchesters looked away from his body. John knew it was the glamour, but he just couldn’t help himself but stare.
“Vodka anyone?” He asked, ever the gracious host.
Both Winchesters shook their heads.
A smug grin curled the black haired man’s lips. He poured himself a glass of the scentless alcohol and then swallowed it in one long pull.
“Don’t worry John. Your sons and me just played a little show and tell game here. Nothing serious.” He set the glass back in the small compartment and closed it.
Dean gasped. He had a feeling he was manipulated into something.
“Really, how they managed to survive the hunting this long is beyond me.” Marakaj murmured smiling crookedly at Dean, daring him to do something, anything.
And it hit him then. Such a simple act, just a few words that caused Dean to pull the gun. It was never about Dean. He was just a human here but when Dean was in danger, or perceived he was in danger, then Sam reacted.
It was never about Dean or even John for that matter. It was about forcing Sam to reveal what he was capable of now.
“You wanted to see what Sam can do now that the Weapon is asleep.”
Marakaj crossed his legs and pulled a silver cigarette case from his pocket.
“Hmm, not as stupid as I thought.” Again that infuriating smugness. “Maybe there’s hope for you yet. Depending on if you learn to think before acting of course.”
Dean gritted his teeth. It stung. Because that bastard was right. He pulled a gun on a creature he never met before, in a confined space of a car, with his brother out of commission. He didn’t know what kind of powers the man had, his abilities, his strength. Sam managed to get Marakaj off him, but it was only because Marakaj wasn’t trying to harm him in the first place. He was so fast, that Dean couldn’t even see his movements, not to mention defending himself from them.
“Why are you interested in Sam?” John asked, resigned to the strained truce. From what he saw so far the man was as self serving as they came. Everything he did had some kind of bonus for him.
Marakaj lit a thin, obviously not American cigarette, and inhaled.
“I always try to get to know the newly awakened Weapons. It’s a matter of strategy. They are human, so there are things they want. And if can I provide them, they might provide me with what I want.”
“You want the Weapons.” Dean said, catching on quickly. His hand closed tighter in his brother’s hair, and unconscious protective gesture.
Marakaj looked at him, obviously bemused.
“Of course I want them to work for me. They are the perfect soldiers after all.”
“Well you can’t have Sam.” Dean objected strongly. “He would never work for someone like you.”
“Oh, I’m offended. You know me for less than an hour and already managed to judge me? How... human of you.” Marakaj opened the window slightly, to let out the smoke. The cigarette wasn’t a normal one, it smelled strangely, probably a herbal one.
The man looked over at the sleeping form of the youngest Winchester.
“Right now it’s a fifty-fifty chance for me.” He said seriously. “I can feel his pain. Hear it, almost smell it on him. He has too much power, too much rage inside him. The pure aggression, bloodlust and guilt pulsing just under his skin is like a poison. With every minute, every hour, every day the Sam Winchester you knew before is disappearing. Piece by piece his old personality is crumpling under the horror, anger and guilt. If it was only the Weapon, the psychological trauma wouldn’t be so bad. The Weapon’s are known for defending their Wielder from things that may cause trauma. Like pain, or the memories of what he has done. They simply suppress the Wielder’s psyche for a while so that even if the person knows what happened, it’s like watching a movie or reading a book for them. No real emotional involvement. But his case is different.” Marakaj’s eyes hooded, lashes falling onto the sun kissed cheeks. “His pain is too powerful, like a living entity. It’s like a sound of a downpour against the glass. Pounding, relentless, dark, wanting to break through. The Weapon didn’t protect him.”
Marakaj took another long pull of the cigarette.
“But, why?” John wondered. “Sarah said that the Weapons always behave the same.”
“There are a few logical explanations. First was that the Weapon was tampered with somehow. Which is completely impossible without Sarah’s knowledge. The second most probable explanation, one that I think is true in this case, is that Sam didn’t actually use the Weapon. He used his own powers for killing. Used his own talents, however deep they were buried. If the weapon wasn’t used, it couldn’t protect Sam from the damage.”
Everyone in the car stared at the sleeping man. None of them seriously considered that Sam can have such... offensive abilities.
“If you don’t reach him, if you don’t manage to get rid of his guilt... he’ll be ripe for plucking.”
Dean snarled.
“Yeah? We’re his family, the only thing he has. He loves us. Loves me. What could you possibly offer Sam to make him leave?”
Marakaj extinguished the cigarette in the astray, a small, almost tender smile playing on his pale lips. He looked up, eyes dark and odd, almost glowing in the semi dark of the car.
“Oblivion.”
Deans stared at him. Triple fuck. That was probably the one thing Sam desired right now the most.
TBC
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.
Thanks for beta to
plutogirl10Chapter 18
Dean shifted in the sinfully expensive leather seat and stroked the silky hair under his hand absently. He looked down at Sam’s sleeping face. He looked pale and had dark circles under his eyes. He didn’t look peaceful at all. He knew well enough that it was the drugs that made him sleep. And that was odd. For all his knowledge of all things Sam, Dean had expected a vicious fight this morning when Sam asked what the pills Dean had given him were for. Instead Sam just looked empty eyed at the bottle and then, without a word shook out two pills and swallowed them dry.
He became calm and docile, very sleepy afterwards. Not saying a word, he just lay down again and closed his eyes. Not long after, his brother was in drug induced, heavy sleep.
It took Dean a while to realize that Sam had actually taken the cowards way out. He was escaping his pain, his memories into the obliviousness provided. It... disturbed Dean. The easy, almost defeated way Sam just took them. He didn’t even try to fight. Dean would rather hear his angry words and screams than this silence. This docile man sleeping with his head on Dean’s thighs wasn’t his brother. He just wore his face.
Sam didn’t wake up when their father called and told them to pack and for Dean to give the keys to the Impala to whoever comes to the door and asks for them.
When the knock came, Dean answered the door, gun firmly in hand. He nearly swallowed his tongue at the sight in front of him.
There were two men. Casually clothed. Average in almost every way. Except when he didn’t look too closely he could swear he was looking at himself and Sam. Their faces weren’t really the same as his and Sam’s but there was a very strong similarity. The faces, the build, the body language, the clothes.
“What the fuck.” Dean just stared, unaware that he even drew the gun out.
The men just looked at him. The smaller one, with a cocky grin and gelled up hair extended his hand, palm up.
“Keys dude?”
And Jesus but he even talked like Dean.
Dean just got his cell out and dialed Dad without once taking eyes from the pair in front of him. The signal ringed once, twice and then John answered.
“Yes?”
It was still odd to have Dad actually answering his phone, not letting it go directly to voicemail.
“Why there are two fucking doppelgangers on front of me?” He asked, almost casually, his gun still trained on the patiently waiting men.
“Doppelgangers?”
“Yes Dad. fucking Doppelgangers. Of Sam and me. And you want me to give them Impala? The Impala? My fucking baby?” Dean couldn’t stop the swearing. It was just too much.
“Hell, Sarah was right. The man is good.” John muttered, not really wanting Dean to hear.
“What man? Dad, what is going on?”
“Listen. Just give them the keys.”
“What for?” Dean insisted. It was THE Impala after all. It’s not like he would just give it to some random guys just because... his Dad ordered him to. Fuck.
He could almost hear John rolling his eyes. “Of all the things it has to be that damned car that makes you question my orders. Okay then. They are going to take the car and drive around the country a bit. The point is they are going to be driving in the exact opposite direction to where we are going. Satisfied? Not stop stalling. Give them the keys, finish packing and get Sam down to the underground parking lot a block away from your building. A car will come to take you from there. Understood?”
Dean mentally deflated.
“Yes sir.”
Gritting his teeth he gave the car keys away.
His double had the audacity to wink at him while he pocketed the keys to Dean’s beloved baby.
“You give her even a scratch, and I will fucking hunt you down and eviscerate you.” Dean growled low in his throat.
After that it was a simple job to pack what few belongings they actually had there. It was much harder to wake Sam up and make him walk on his own. He kept messing up the steps, tripping over his legs and looking like a total addict on a bad trip.
Still it was good he was walking on his own strength because there was no way in Hell that he would be able to support the freaking mountain that was his younger brother. Sometimes life just wasn’t fair. At all.
So they got to the parking lot after some stumbling and fumbling. It was almost empty. It was eleven in the morning on Monday and most people were at work. There was no one around. So Dean was just going to settle for a long wait when he heard an engine purring gently. He watched, with a kind of sick awe as a freaking black limousine with tinted windows slowed down to a stop in front of him and Sam. A driver, complete with a damn uniform and cap, got out and opened the passenger doors.
“Mr. Winchester?” It was polite and completely impersonal. The man stared at some point just over Dean’s shoulder. Never making eye contact. Never even looking directly at any of the brothers.
He bent down to grab the bags but the driver was already halfway there.
“Let me take care of that.” For a moment Dean considered fighting him, just on principle. But hell, it was a damn limousine! He was so going to enjoy it.
So Dean tugged his brother inside and settled himself comfortably on the incredibly soft, leather seats. Sam, docile like a lamb, just shuffled lower and lay down, pillowing his head on Dean’s thigh. Going back to sleep.
Dean let him. They would talk about his sudden love for pills later, when things started making a little more sense.
He heard the driver put their bags into the trunk and then got back into the car. Soon they were driving onto the road and Dean felt even more confused than before. What the Hell was going on?
“Where are you taking us?” Dean asked, grateful for the press of gun against his back and the blade in his boot.
“To the meeting place.”
“Yeah, and who are we supposed to meet?”
The driver didn’t take his eyes from the road even once.
“I’m not privy to such information. I just drive.” His tone was final. He was not going to discuss it.
* * *
John snapped his phone shut and took one last look around his motel room. He hadn’t spent much time here. He changed the grip on the bag and went out to check out.
He caught a glimpse of Sarah, with a similar duffel bag at her feet already waiting on the parking lot.
It only took a moment to check out and he was crossing the parking lot to her. Her golden hair, loose and shifting on the light breeze gleamed like gold in the early morning sun.
“I packed everything that didn’t look like it belonged to the motel.” Sarah smiled at him, a little unsure. A little apprehensive. She didn’t want him to go. He could see as much. But she never said a word. And John was grateful for that. Because he would have left her anyway. His sons now so much more important than any kind of relationship he could have with her.
“It’s good.”
They stared at each other, the day surprisingly calm around them. Silence and only the warm sun rays caressing them. Her eyes glowed amber and gold, soft and feline.
Sarah turned her eyes to the side, breaking the contact. John watched her lick her lips as if she wanted to say something, but in the end she just closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She let it out slowly, loudly. Her face lost the sublime tension that was there ever since morning.
When Sarah opened her eyes, they were dark and old somehow. In that one moment, between one breath and another she looked every bit like the woman that could never end.
Her lips moved but no sound came from between them as she reached out toward John’s face and touched his forehead.
There were no flashes of lightning, no angels singing nor did the earth split. But John knew that she did something. Something big and important. He could feel it in the way his heart stuttered for just one moment. In the way his skin felt cold and clammy, goose bumps almost painful beneath his clothes and the feeling of heavy coldness that passed through him in a single heartbeat.
Sarah blinked and her eyes were the warm amber again that he got to know so well.
“What did you do?” John asked, still shivering a little.
She gave him a sad, small smile. The air was warm and almost still around her, only the occasional sound of a car engine breaking the almost otherworldly calm.
“When the time comes, I want to be the one to lead you through. I don’t want it to be something as nameless as Death. You deserve better.”
John opened his mouth to say something, but nothing much came out. It was just too much. For him, a man that hunted supernatural being for half his life, one that knew from bitter experience that you can’t kill death, can’t escape it. Now or a year later, it will always get to you.
Now he was told that Death wouldn’t come for him. That when things came to an end, when his body gave out on him, it wouldn’t be Death that came for him. It would be Sarah.
It was scary and disturbing. An odd gift to receive. But it was also very her. Even after everything that happened John still didn’t really believe, not deep down, in the kind of power she claimed she had. He couldn’t. If he did, it would mean that Sarah was one of the things he hunted.
Touched with an uncomfortable thought, John reached for Sarah. His palm closed over her warm shoulder.
“Sarah. Who comes for you?”
She smiled, but it was just a grin. Just her lips curling in a small, insignificant grin. Her eyes remained solemn and warm, with a hint of something sad behind them.
“No one.”
He opened his mouth, but once again there was nothing that he could say. He was never good at expressing his feelings and all those years of hunting only made it worse.
“I’m sorry.” He said finally.
She smiled. A small but honest smile.
“You don’t have to be. I get to live again. To make my dreams true. To taste and see things I always wanted to see.”
Looking into her amber eyes, John could see that she truly believed that. She did enjoy her life. Just living.
“You are amazing.”
And she was, John understood that now. Understood with a shocking clarity just what had drew him to her so strongly. She suffered a tragedy, a horror liked the one he lived through. His life stopped the day Mary died. He did nothing for himself. Just to avenge his wife and keep his children safe.
Sarah on the other side lived. She laughed and played, dreamed and strove to make the dreams real. She had friends, and pets and was truly happy to be alive even though the shadows of memory still haunted her. John hadn’t lived in twenty three years.
She cocked her head to the side, a cascade of beautiful, blonde hair falling over her face and one arm.
“It’s just a choice I made. You can do it too, you know. Be happy. There is no one that would begrudge you happiness. Not your children, nor your wife.” She said it gently, slowly. And John barely even flinched at the mentioning of Mary.
He didn’t answer but he leaned down to kiss her. A soft goodbye of a sorts. One he could never say with words, but he could with his lips and hands.
She felt good in his arms. Like she could belong there. Soft in all the places he touched, full and curvy in a way that was fashionable a few hundred years ago and now frowned upon.
Her hand slid under the lapel of his jacket and played over his shirt, just below his heart. She kneaded the flesh there gently.
John could feel a gentle smile tugging at his lips. A lot of women were attracted to his musculature but she definitely had a kink here.
The sound of a cell phone chirping caused them to pull apart. Sarah was flushed and her lips were swollen, tender looking. John was grateful for his whiskers, hiding his own reaction.
As he watched her answer the phone, John shifted trying to get rid of the slight embarrassment at the very public display.
“Yes, we’re done.” Sarah said not really managing to hide the slightly breathless quality to her voice. “Okay. We’ll be there in ten minutes tops.”
John took his cue from her and pulled the car keys from his pocket. He opened the trunk first and threw the bags inside.
“Where to?” He asked when he got behind the wheel and started the truck, looking at Sarah fastening her seatbelt from the corner of his eyes.
“I’ll lead you.” She smiled gently at John. “A car is waiting to take you to your sons.”
* * *
Marakaj leaned back in his custom made chair and put his arms behind his head. Things were going well. Sarah accepted his help which gave him a kind of leverage he wanted. With a pleased sigh he closed his eyes and relaxed until it was time to go and meet up with the Winchester family.
There was a hard, brisk knock at his door and then the sound of footsteps. He didn’t even bother with opening his eyes. Only one person knocked like that and disturbed him any time she liked. Kyra Moore, his right hand. She handled the part where his family became his corporation. Tough as nails, loyal and intelligent, she was one of the very, very few who weren’t intimidated by him. She was a half breed too. Half human, half Grhu-ha to boot. That was probably the reason for her attitude. She had a choice. To become a victim because neither world accepted what she was, or become strong enough that other’s thought twice about messing with her. Most of the time, Marakaj suspected she just didn’t give a damn one way or the other.
“I heard about the little plot of yours.” She stated, sitting herself comfortably in the visitors chair.
“Already? It’s been just a few hours.” Marakaj murmured opening his eyes and yawning lazily.
Kyra was a dark haired, attractive woman. She grinned at him, all teeth and attitude.
“You really should fire that assistant of yours. He has no spine whatsoever.”
Marakaj laughed.
“It’s not his spine or the lack of thereof that is his problem. It’s the fact that he has a crush on you.”
Kyra rolled her eyes. Marakaj never actually saw her interested in a man in any other way than appreciating their physical attributes. She was worse than any man on that front.
“Why are you getting involved with a hunter like that? It’s not very politically correct of you. It’s causing some... unrest.”
And there was one more thing to Kyra. She came from the shady area where no one was fully human or vampire. No family, no connections, she met a lot of people like her. Friends in low places, that might have been a cliché, but when it came to rumors and moods running through his people, she knew everything a lot sooner that any of the higher standing vampires.
“Who?”
She sighed.
“Andrew’s son. He’s a pompous jerk, stupid and full of himself, sure that he can lead his family so much better than his father. And he hates your guts.”
“I’ll take care of him after I finish with the Winchesters. Personally.”
She turned her gaze away. Kyra knew he was as likely to rip the boy to shreds as to talk to him, and didn’t approve of his violent nature. But she’d stopped arguing about it a long time ago.
“So why did you decide to help the hunter? Sarah Andrews is neutral. Everybody knows that.” She pressed.
Marakaj smiled, his unique eyes slanting and teeth gleaming.
“Because of the 21st.”
Her brow furrowed.
“The council meeting?”
“No. The party that happens before. Guess who will be accompanying me?”
Her brows rose.
“Well, that will definitely shake things up.”
Marakaj smirked and looked at his watch. Time to go.
* * *
Dean shifted as he felt the car slow down and then stop in front of an elegant, five story building of chrome and glass. The driver got out and Dean shifted again, pushing Sam into a semi sitting position and reached for the Glock he had hidden before getting into the car. He made sure the gun was loaded and easily reachable before hiding it again.
The door opened and a man got in. Dean looked up at him, and well, that was all that he did. He stared. The stranger was tall and big, his body even bigger than Sam’s. But he was fucking beautiful. Face pale and smooth as if chiseled in marble, eyes slanted in quiet amusement that had the most incredible shade of navy blue he ever saw on a human and his black, straight hair fell over his powerful shoulders like a wave of black silk.
An obviously expensive white shirt clung to his body in all the right places and a massive, silver watch circled a strong wrist. It unnerved Dean, just how aware he was of the sheer physicality of this man. How he noticed all the tiny details, noticed how the man stretched his legs in the space between seats, how the well tailored slacks showed off his strong thighs, how his fingers were long and strong and so very sensual... and throughout it all he was aware of the amused smirk firmly in place.
“My name is Marakaj. All this…” He gestured to the limo. “Is mine.”
“Why are you helping us?” Dean asked, unsure, on edge, worried about his brother.
The man smiled, a crooked amused twist of his lips and sprawled even more in the seat.
“We have a friend in common. And I just love the fact that John will have to explain it to you.” He looked pleased, and incredibly sexy sprawled back on the soft, black leather. His loose hair fanned out behind him, a black curtain of silk. The man was damned attractive and he damn well knew it.
Dean felt another wave of uneasiness. The man was attractive, too damn attractive for Dean’s peace of mind, but there was also something wicked in his voice.
“Explain what, dude?”
The man smiled wide, showing all his teeth.
“Me.” There was a glint in his strange, beautiful eyes. “And the fact that I am a vampire.”
Dean didn’t even have to think about it. Years worth of training made him reach for the gun he kept hidden and point it at the still smirking man.
He only smiled wider, stretching his long, powerful body, totally unconcerned.
“You actually think a gun can stop me if I wanted to do something?” Marakaj asked clearly enjoying himself. It set Dean on edge more than anything else.
“No.” Dean answered keeping his hand steady and eyes firmly on the other man. “But it will slow you down.”
“Oh really?” Marakaj smiled, his white teeth gleaming in the semi dark interior of the car. In less than a heartbeat Marakaj had the gun wrenched away from Dean and one inhumanly strong hand closed over Dean’s throat. He wasn’t strangling the older Winchester, yet. But the possibility was there.
“Now.” Marakaj drawled, that insufferable smugness still present in his incredible eyes, even if his voice had now another, a lot more dangerous quality. “You were saying something?”
Dean was regretting his actions now. The man was obviously trying to help, and Dean acted without thinking. Now he could either end up dead or the man could refuse to help anymore. Both ways, it would be Sam that suffered the consequences of his brash actions.
Fuck.
“Dean.” The word was slurred, his brother still more asleep than awake. “Wha’s goin’ on?”
Double fuck.
Dean wasn’t sure what happened then. He saw a slow, sluggish movement from the corner of his eye. Heard Sam murmur something and then Marakaj was off him and in the opposite seat, hissing and pressing one of his hands to his right side, his odd eyes fixed on Sammy.
Dean shifted, trying to cover his brother somehow from the strange, intense gaze. His little brother slid down the seat again and laid his head on Dean’s lap. Sleeping again. Completely unaware of what he had done.
“What the hell is he?” Asked Marakaj, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling the cloth away from his muscled stomach. On his side was one angry, bleeding burn. The skin was obviously scorched, all the layers of skin were gone in what looked loosely like a palm print. The exposed flesh looked incredibly painful and vulnerable. Dean had to give the man credit, he thought. When he watched Marakaj calmly pick pieces of burned flesh through cloth from the gaping wound. The vampire closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.
Right in front of Dean’s eyes the wound started healing. Fresh pink skin started growing back, connecting the scorched edges. Soon the only sign that there ever was any damage was the burnt through shirt.
“I have seen a lot of Sarah’s Weapons. But never something quite like this.” Murmured Marakaj watching the now sleeping Sam.
Both men stared at each other, the tension thick in the air and Sammy sleeping, oblivious to the conflict.
The limousine pulled to the curb and the driver got out. They could hear the sound of the trunk being opened and closed and then the side door opened. Neither Dean nor Marakaj took their eyes away from each other.
John slid into the car and his nose twitched. Over the years he became all too familiar with the smell of blood and burning flesh.
Carefully he looked over the situation. Sam was sleeping, his head in Dean’s lap. Dean was tense, one hand in his brother’s hair the other clenched into a tight fist. His eyes fixed on Marakaj. One of his son’s favorite Glocks was laying on the floor between the seats.
Marakaj was sprawled on the opposite seat but there was a subtle undercurrent of tension in his body now that John hadn’t seen before. His shirt was undone, showing the sculpted chest. On the right side there was a burnt through hole but the flesh beneath looked unmarked. The vampire’s eyes were fixed on the sleeping from of his youngest son.
“Is something wrong?” John asked cautiously, sensing the tension.
Dean twitched, threw an angry glare at John and opened his mouth, but then snapped it shut without a word. Obviously he wanted to fight about something, but doing it in front of Marakaj wasn’t a good idea and Dean recognized it.
Marakaj sighed theatrically and pulled his shirt off. Then threw it to the floor. His muscles flexed and John caught a glimpse of a huge tattoo of a dragon on his back. The vampire opened a hidden compartment in the side of the car and pulled out a black plastic bag. He rummaged in it until he found a tee shirt and pulled it out. Not embarrassed in the least that he was being carefully watched, he pulled it on. The black cotton stretched over his powerful chest and outlined the sharp lines of muscles very clearly.
He chucked lightly.
“Like what you see?” He asked as he opened another compartment and pulled a bottle of clear liquid. And a glass. Both Winchesters looked away from his body. John knew it was the glamour, but he just couldn’t help himself but stare.
“Vodka anyone?” He asked, ever the gracious host.
Both Winchesters shook their heads.
A smug grin curled the black haired man’s lips. He poured himself a glass of the scentless alcohol and then swallowed it in one long pull.
“Don’t worry John. Your sons and me just played a little show and tell game here. Nothing serious.” He set the glass back in the small compartment and closed it.
Dean gasped. He had a feeling he was manipulated into something.
“Really, how they managed to survive the hunting this long is beyond me.” Marakaj murmured smiling crookedly at Dean, daring him to do something, anything.
And it hit him then. Such a simple act, just a few words that caused Dean to pull the gun. It was never about Dean. He was just a human here but when Dean was in danger, or perceived he was in danger, then Sam reacted.
It was never about Dean or even John for that matter. It was about forcing Sam to reveal what he was capable of now.
“You wanted to see what Sam can do now that the Weapon is asleep.”
Marakaj crossed his legs and pulled a silver cigarette case from his pocket.
“Hmm, not as stupid as I thought.” Again that infuriating smugness. “Maybe there’s hope for you yet. Depending on if you learn to think before acting of course.”
Dean gritted his teeth. It stung. Because that bastard was right. He pulled a gun on a creature he never met before, in a confined space of a car, with his brother out of commission. He didn’t know what kind of powers the man had, his abilities, his strength. Sam managed to get Marakaj off him, but it was only because Marakaj wasn’t trying to harm him in the first place. He was so fast, that Dean couldn’t even see his movements, not to mention defending himself from them.
“Why are you interested in Sam?” John asked, resigned to the strained truce. From what he saw so far the man was as self serving as they came. Everything he did had some kind of bonus for him.
Marakaj lit a thin, obviously not American cigarette, and inhaled.
“I always try to get to know the newly awakened Weapons. It’s a matter of strategy. They are human, so there are things they want. And if can I provide them, they might provide me with what I want.”
“You want the Weapons.” Dean said, catching on quickly. His hand closed tighter in his brother’s hair, and unconscious protective gesture.
Marakaj looked at him, obviously bemused.
“Of course I want them to work for me. They are the perfect soldiers after all.”
“Well you can’t have Sam.” Dean objected strongly. “He would never work for someone like you.”
“Oh, I’m offended. You know me for less than an hour and already managed to judge me? How... human of you.” Marakaj opened the window slightly, to let out the smoke. The cigarette wasn’t a normal one, it smelled strangely, probably a herbal one.
The man looked over at the sleeping form of the youngest Winchester.
“Right now it’s a fifty-fifty chance for me.” He said seriously. “I can feel his pain. Hear it, almost smell it on him. He has too much power, too much rage inside him. The pure aggression, bloodlust and guilt pulsing just under his skin is like a poison. With every minute, every hour, every day the Sam Winchester you knew before is disappearing. Piece by piece his old personality is crumpling under the horror, anger and guilt. If it was only the Weapon, the psychological trauma wouldn’t be so bad. The Weapon’s are known for defending their Wielder from things that may cause trauma. Like pain, or the memories of what he has done. They simply suppress the Wielder’s psyche for a while so that even if the person knows what happened, it’s like watching a movie or reading a book for them. No real emotional involvement. But his case is different.” Marakaj’s eyes hooded, lashes falling onto the sun kissed cheeks. “His pain is too powerful, like a living entity. It’s like a sound of a downpour against the glass. Pounding, relentless, dark, wanting to break through. The Weapon didn’t protect him.”
Marakaj took another long pull of the cigarette.
“But, why?” John wondered. “Sarah said that the Weapons always behave the same.”
“There are a few logical explanations. First was that the Weapon was tampered with somehow. Which is completely impossible without Sarah’s knowledge. The second most probable explanation, one that I think is true in this case, is that Sam didn’t actually use the Weapon. He used his own powers for killing. Used his own talents, however deep they were buried. If the weapon wasn’t used, it couldn’t protect Sam from the damage.”
Everyone in the car stared at the sleeping man. None of them seriously considered that Sam can have such... offensive abilities.
“If you don’t reach him, if you don’t manage to get rid of his guilt... he’ll be ripe for plucking.”
Dean snarled.
“Yeah? We’re his family, the only thing he has. He loves us. Loves me. What could you possibly offer Sam to make him leave?”
Marakaj extinguished the cigarette in the astray, a small, almost tender smile playing on his pale lips. He looked up, eyes dark and odd, almost glowing in the semi dark of the car.
“Oblivion.”
Deans stared at him. Triple fuck. That was probably the one thing Sam desired right now the most.
TBC
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no subject
Date: 2007-01-28 08:52 am (UTC)The Dean and Sam doubles taking the Impala were genius and funny as all get out. Poor Dean losing his baby. It's just wrong when some one outside the Winchesters drive her. The goodbye seen between John and Sarah was so damn touching. Bringing up the reaper idea and then her not ever getting an end. So sad. I really like her so much. I like that she is so real and strong and such a great match for John and that she's given him so much. Your vamp is one great character and so devious. I have to laugh that the guys keep getting attracted to him. The face off between him and Dean was good because in such close quarters, with all the tension, and Sam out cold Dean reacted the only way he could. That boy is beyond tired at this point. I really hope Dean gets a clue and realizes that Sam doesn't want oblivion half as much as he wants his brother. (and I can't believe I'm rooting for the wincest to make it all better, fandom has ruined me) Ah well, since it has, Dean needs to get to sexin his bro right up and making it all better because the two of them bonded and fighting would be near unstoppable. Dean could heal who he chose, even Sam if he needed it in a fight and whoo,hoo, this WeaponSam is too damn sexy makes you want to see him getting all up on Dean, who is so sexy all on his very own without any extra anything.
Oh my what machinations have the Winchester clan fallen into now? I can't wait to find out. Be well.
no subject
Date: 2007-02-07 04:44 am (UTC)Still loving it!
Date: 2007-02-08 05:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-09 07:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-12 03:03 pm (UTC)May I do that?
I would be so glad if you could give me the permission.
Thank you *^_^*
(btw,i really need to say that i can't wait to see you update your new chapter 19!)
A plea.
Date: 2007-02-18 11:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-28 04:08 pm (UTC)but i was wondering if this was it.
i know it says TBC, but it's been a long time sine you updated, you didnt forget about it did you. lol.
any updated coming soon?
<3 Much Lovee
no subject
Date: 2007-03-18 12:07 am (UTC):)
no subject
Date: 2007-03-27 04:51 am (UTC)I am so looking forward to more!
Your characterizations of Sam, Dean and John are perfect and your OCs are great! And plot...and the porn...!!! Holy crap!
Please continue this story...or I'll cry :(