Spoilers: For 5.01, just to be safe.
Summary: The angels give Dean what he needs to defeat the demons, but typically, don't tell him everything. Luckily Sam is there to help him figure it out.
Author Notes: I can't believe I started writing this in July and because of all the freaking challenges I had to finish, kept putting off finishing it. And then? It basically got Kripke'd to all hell! Grrr! I'm finishing it anyway, cause that's just how I roll. ;) Thank you to my ever fabulous beta samescenes - I don't know what I'll do without you! Title and cut from (and inspired by) Coming Down by David Gray (click to download).
For superwicked, with love. She knows why. ♥
When I hear you laugh,
I've got a sword to stem the rivers
And cut the moon in half.
Dean gets the sword on what used to be a Thursday.
On Friday the first demon kicks his ass.
It's wearing a balding bus driver, his chest saggy with age. Dean drives it between two protruding rib bones until the tip of steel sticks out its back. The fucker laughs at him before flinging him across the room to crash heavily into the brick wall. The sword flies from his chest and Dean feels a sharp stab of fear. It's too strong for them. Sam comes to the rescue with some holy water and a good old fashioned exorcism. The Latin rolls off his tongue, easy as pie, and it gets Dean harder than he's been in ages.
While Sam keeps it at bay, Dean manages to pick himself up. Stepping close, he bends the man's head back cruelly, his fingers tangling in his greasy strings of hair. It's eyes are still an inky black, devoid of all humanity. It's looking at him like it knows exactly what's going on in Dean's head. Sam finishes with a grunt, his voice hoarse as black demon smoke billows from the man's mouth. Dean lies the corpse down on the ground, careful to keep his back turned to Sam, and grimaces. It's wide unseeing eyes are still looking right through him and it's wearing that same goddamn smirk.
The sword ended up lying in the corner and Sam walks over to pick it up. "Thing's fucking useless," he says, handing it back to Dean, and walks out to the car.
Sam should've had enough juice left to hold it down, maybe even gank it, but he didn't, so Dean still counts it as a win.
Castiel drops by for one of his usual infuriating visits. He assures Dean the sword is indeed their ultimate weapon against the demon hoard, but Dean just stares at him wordlessly. He's not convinced. Before he leaves Castiel drags Sam off to the side. Sam stands listening with his head hanging down as the angel whispers furtively at him. Dean wants to know what he's saying to Sam. Dean wants to punch the fucking angel in the face.
Sam nods and Castiel finally leaves, through the door this time instead of pulling his angelic disappearing act.
"What?" Dean says.
Sam doesn't answer, stands there looking at him for a moment. Dean swears he recognizes the look in Sam's eye. It matches the one the demon gave him earlier, like he knows way too much of what's going on in Dean's head.
"What?" Dean says again.
"You need to practice."
"What?" Dean says. He's getting really sick of asking that.
"We need to round up some demons. Tie 'em up and you try and kill 'em."
"Bad idea, Sam." It sounds too much like what Sam used to do with Ruby and there's no way Dean's going down the same road. Not only is it dangerous, it's a cruel reminder of all the things she did with Sam. All the things he can't have.
"It's the only way to figure it out, Dean. And we have to figure it out."
"No, Sam, and that's final."
Dean drops his hands, the point of the sword scraping against the concrete floor. He looks at Sam over his shoulder and quirks an eyebrow.
"It's worth a try," Sam says, shrugging.
"Fine," Dean says, picking the sword up again. He lays it on the demon's shoulder, a pretty blond soccer mom this time. He closes his eyes and starts reciting the Lord's Prayer under his breath.
The demon starts laughing, and Dean tightens his grip.
"It's not working," he grinds out.
"Then you think of something," Sam says, starting to sound annoyed at his brother already.
Dean thinks for a second, steadies himself and starts humming a Zeppelin tune. The demon throws it's head back and laughs.
Pulling his hand back only slightly, Dean swings the sword and chops its head off in one fell swoop. He throws a hand up to shield his face as black smoke and a fountain of blood spurts from the severed neck.
"Dean," Sam says, exasperated. "Now we have to go find another one."
Dean would say he's sorry, but he's really not.
"I got nothing, Sam," Dean admits, wiping sweat from his forehead with the corner of his shirt.
"Just keep trying, Dean. Giving up is kinda not an option."
"Would it have killed them to leave some instructions?" Dean asks.
"You know the angels," Sam says and walks over to sit down on a little heap of bricks in the corner.
"Cas didn't give you any clues the other day?" Dean asks. The two of them conspiring still bugged the hell out of him.
"No," Sam says, looking away.
"There's got to be some way to save these poor bastards. The plan can't just be to keep chopping off their heads," Dean says, but draws his arm back anyway. The demon's eyes bulge and the teenager tries to scream past the gag in his mouth.
"Wait," Sam says, stopping him. "I have an idea."
Dean relaxes his stance and when he turns towards his brother, Sam is already walking towards him. He doesn't stop, keeps right on coming until he's right up in Dean's space. Dean wants to take a step back, but Sam's too quick for him. Dean's in shock and he can feel the fight or flight impulse kicking in.
Sam wraps one hand around the back of Dean's head and forces him to look at Sam. He stares at the tiny flecks of gold in Sam's eyes until Sam moves closer and then he's kissing him, tentatively running his tongue over Dean's lips. Dean can't help himself. He opens his mouth and lets Sam lick his way inside. He doesn't know why Sam is kissing him. He knows he's not supposed to give in. But Sam is kissing him, and it's wet and messy and perfect.
Dean feels his hand, the one holding the sword, start to tingle and then his eyes shoot open when a numbing pain shoots up his arm. Sam releases him, takes a surprised step back and raises a hand to touch his bruised lips. Dean's shoulder jars as the sword swings itself up into the air and then they both have to cover their eyes as it blazes to life. The demon gasps, a spark escaping from it's mouth. The kid sags against his bonds, blinking at his strange companions in surprise.
Sam undoes the gag and the ropes holding him to the chair as Dean wipes a hand across his mouth.
"Huh," Dean says, and Sam pointedly doesn't look at him as the helps the kid to get to his feet. Dean watches them walk away. When they reach the door, Sam risks a glance back at him. He darts his eyes away when he sees Dean watching, a blush rising high on his cheeks.
"Huh," Dean says again and follows them out into the sunlight.
They don't talk about it. That's just the Winchester way. They do it three more times, awkwardly leaning into the kiss as Dean holds the sword high. Once their lips meet though, everything else takes a back seat. It feels right.
Dean knows why Sam is doing this. He's trying to make up for before. Dean knows he doesn't have to, but he thinks he's gonna let him.
Dean wonders what the angels will do when they find out what they had to do to get the sword to work its magic. He worries that he's fucking Sammy up all over again. He knows he should stop it, call Cas and tell him to stick the sword, the prophecy, the whole fucking apocalypse. But all he does is open his mouth wider to let Sam suck on his tongue.
"We should try it with more than one at a time," Sam says as they carry the latest survivor from the warehouse.
"Okay," Dean says simply and Sam looks at him in surprise, like he expected Dean to put up more of a fight. "Two or three?"
"I was thinking more like five or six."
"Okay," Dean says again and closes the door behind them with a dull thump.
It's not working. They've got their hands fisted into each other's clothes, groaning into each other's mouths, but the demons at their backs making catcalls, are just getting louder and more obnoxious.
Dean breaks away, gasping for breath. Sam bends down to rest his forehead on Dean's shoulder.
"Any other bright ideas?" Dean huffs against his ear.
Sam lifts his head, looks at Dean's mouth and then up into his eyes. Dean tries for casual, faking a cocky grin and Sam rolls his eyes, reaches down for Dean's belt.
Before Dean's mind can catch up with what's happening, Sam's got the buckle undone and is popping open the button on his threadbare jeans. He grabs at Sam's wrist as he drags down Dean's zipper and reaches into Dean's underwear. The kissing is bad enough - there's no way he's letting Sam do this.
"Sam," Dean warns, trying to push Sam's hand away.
"It's okay," Sam says, "I want to." He uses his other hand to untangle Dean's fingers from his wrist.
"Sam," Dean tries one more time, but then Sam's fingers are curling around his cock, surely stroking it to hardness. Dean's finds himself on the brink of orgasm embarrassingly quickly and his eyes roll back into his head. He shakily manages to lift the sword just as he spills over onto Sam's fingers. It blazes to life, even brighter than before and in that instant half a dozen demons merely cease existing.
Dean hastily tucks himself away and Sam wipes his hand against the back of his thigh as the survivors start coming around. Dean starts untying the first one as Sam walks away to do the same with one furthest away. Dean busies himself with the knots, suddenly too complicated for his numb fingers. He sneaks a glance at Sam. He sees him quickly press a hand against the bulge in his jeans, willing it down, before untying the arthritic hands of the old man in front of him.
Dean's afraid to hope, but he does anyway.
"We have to call Cas," Dean says when they're safely holed up in a derelict house later that night.
"Why?" Sam asks, looking up from his notebook and tucking his hair behind his ear. Dean is torn between bitching at him to sit still long enough for Dean to cut it for him and wanting to walk over and run his fingers through it.
"'Cause," Dean says, but his courage falters. Sam can't quite meet his eyes, so he pushes on. "'Cause he has to come take it back."
"But we got it to work," Sam says quietly.
"I can't have you groping me every time we need it, Sam!" Dean doesn't mean to yell and wishes he could take it back when Sam seems to shrink back into himself. "It's not right that I need it, Sammy," he says, softer this time, and Sam just nods.
They summon Castiel, but he doesn't show. They spend the next four days holed up, waiting. Demons come after them, of course they do, but they used to get rid of them just fine before the sword, so they manage.
Dean's heating a can of beans for dinner when Sam walks up behind him and wraps his arms around Dean's waist. He rests his cheek against the back of Dean's head. Dean stops stirring, the mess at the bottom of the little pot spitting and burning.
"Castiel told me..." Sam says, trailing off.
"What?" Dean whispers, holding himself very still.
"He told me to get it to work, I had to do something that I'd wanted to do for as long as I could remember, but never had the courage to. That it was something you wanted too, but that you were just as scared."
"So that was why," Dean says.
"Why I kissed you," Sam interrupts and reaches down to turn off the stove. When the flame goes out, Dean turns around in Sam's arms, so close their noses bump against each other.
"Kiss me, Dean," Sam says against his lips.
Dean doesn't have to move much to press their lips together, just tilts his chin up slightly and then Sam's mouth is opening above his. He cups Sam's cheeks in his hands and tilts Sam's face to deepen the kiss. Sam groans and tightens his hold on Dean's waist.
Dean can feel Sam's heart beating.
Sam backs them up out of the kitchen, painfully bumping their hips against the door jamb, but not breaking the kiss. They make their way to the front of the house, fumbling to get their clothes off as they go. Sam finally breaks the kiss when he sinks down on the mattress they've been taking turns sleeping on, dragging Dean down with him. Dean's legs are still caught in his pants that are bunched up below his knees, but he doesn't let that stop him from rolling on top of his brother. He lines up their hips, rubbing his cock against the hard length of Sam's.
Sam curls his fingers round the back of Dean's neck, pulling him down for another kiss. Dean kisses him back hard and wraps a hand around their cocks. He rubs his thumb across the heads as they slide through his fist, gathering the slippery beads of precome to ease their way. Sam wriggles his free hand between them to tangle his fingers with Dean's and together they squeeze and stroke as their hips pump up into each other.
Dean can feel himself getting close and desperately he speeds up the motion of their hands. Sam throws his head back, teeth cruelly digging into his bottom lip as he strains up against Dean. Dean feels Sam's come streaking against his stomach and buries his head in Sam's neck, smothering his breathless moans against Sam's skin. He bites down on Sam's shoulder as he comes and Sam thumps a fist against his back in retaliation.
Dean rolls away and kicks his jeans off the rest of the way. Sam waits until he settles, then turns on his side, pushing his back against Dean's chest. Dean drops his arm over Sam's side and hooks his chin over Sam's shoulder. He sees the sword, leaning against the wall in the corner, lifeless.
He chuckles and when Sam tries to look up at him questioningly, he points at it.
"Unbelievable," Sam says. "I thought would be nuclear after that."
He sounds truly amazed and Dean can't help but laugh harder. Sam huffs, but Dean tickles him, lightly running his fingers over Sam's side and soon Sam is laughing just as hard.
As their laughter mingles and fills the empty house, Dean suddenly realises that he's happy. Maybe for the first time in his life, truly happy.
Then he has to hastily squeeze his eyes shut as the sword blazes to life. Sam jerks against him, trying to get away. It's brighter than they've ever seen it, brighter than the sun. It dies down a little after a minute, enough that they can open their eyes again, but it doesn't go back to the dull steel of before. They lay there staring at it for a while. It's safe and warm where they are.
Sam pats his arm twice and he lifts it, letting Sam go. Sam stands and holds out his hand to Dean to pull him up.
Dean takes it.
My first contribution of hopefully many to spn_t00bs. I'm so honoured to be part of this awesome project!
spn_t00bs is a spin-off of the original fanfict00bs and twilight_t00bs. Every Wednesday a new fan fiction will be posted by one of our writers. Our stories represent a variety of characters, relationships, genres, ratings, and lengths but all pertain to Supernatural or Supernatural RPF. Right this way to watch or join the community!