Drabble post type thing.
Jul. 4th, 2007 12:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rahmiBecause I can just see myself accidently deleting comments or something, I'm gathering all of the puppy!demons 'verse drabbles together in this post. It'll be updated a lot, methinks.
This first set is mostly in an order (of some sort, at any rate) so I'm going to leave them all stuck together. The other ones are going to be seperated out according to what the devil they're babbling about.
des_pudels_kern wrote:
He was going to have a word with Sammy. If he wanted to keep his new pets, they had to be housebroken. Problem was, they didn't seem to listen to Dean at all. "Bad demons, bad!"
rahmiwrote:
It wasn't his fault the demons left stuff all over the hotel rooms. Really. And, okay, so it was gross to wake up in the morning to cow guts all over Dean and his bed, but. Well, he kind of likes the demons' sense of humor and he spends every morning laughing himself sick in the bathroom
des_pudels_kern wrote:
"Sam!", he growls at his brother. The son of a bitch of course chooses that moment to disappear into the bathroom again. Nevermind that he woke up to find his last clean shirts reeking of sulfur. And that stink doesn't wash out again, he's had plenty opportunity to try. What was it with those bastards and his stuff? Glaring at the closed door and the demons that he just knows are swirling between him and their oh-so precious general, he steals one of Sam's shirts. And if he has to give it back gutty and stinking, all the better.
rahmi wrote:
(bastard bitch brother, wearing general's shirt, clothes, clothes, don't get them messy, clean, must be clean, no sulfur, no cow) the demons hissed restlessly and Sam smiled.
"Why don't you leave the shirt alone and get his boots?" (boots, boots, boots) the demons chant, sputtering laughter. Dean wakes up in the morning and heaves a sigh of relief, because he's not covered in gunk for once, and then he slips his feet into his boots; Sam has to crawl out of the ridiculously small bathroom window in order to escape his murderous brother.
des_pudels_kern wrote:
Dean grins as Sam leaves their room. Both his clothes and his hair are rumpled, and he hasn't gotten any sleep that night. But getting back to the motel after spending the whole night 'talking' with that girl (well, she did tell him some useful things. And it wouldn't have been very nice to just leave as soon as he got what he came for, right?), the one Sam had been ogling all evening without getting any reaction, and knowing that Sam knows how he spent the night, yeah, that's worth being tired. And he can catch some sleep now, while Sammy's off to do some research with the info Dean has... collected. All the better that the demons trail after Sam like a bunch of puppies and he doesn't have to worry about his clothes for once.
And still wearing a shirt that's ripped open almost down to his belly button and a smug grin he drops on the bed.
rahmi wrote:
Only to pop back up seconds later, because there is some kind of slimy shit that squishes out of his covers the minute his back touches them and that is just not on.
His happy high starts to diminish rapidly as he realizes that his duffle back is also looking suspiciously damp.
Whatever the hell the stuff is, it's green and has the consistency of slime and Dean's almost impressed with the demons' ability to find weird shit to pour all over his stuff. Almost. As it is, he picks up Sam's duffle, rips back the covers on his bed, and pours all of his brother's clothes in the slime. Let him be slimy.
He picks up his duffle and whistles his way to the nearest laundrymat.
des_pudels_kern wrote:
Sam strechtes his legs. Cafe tables are not made for people his seize. And no matter what a jerk Dean was last night, he shouldn't have stormed off like this as soon as he got enough to start on the research of the haunted wharf. He's be in a better mood now if he'd stayed and watched his brother get all green and slimy.
He looks out of the window for the umpteenth time in the last quarter hour and sure enough this time he sees Dean headed for the laundromat down the road. His appearing grin dies the second he sees his brother is whistling. And still looking smug.
He's desperate enough to ponder hooking up with Jo next time they meet her just to pay Dean back when he notices the bitching demon headed towards the laundromat.
He forgets about Jo and turns back to his laptop with a smug grin of his own.
rahmi wrote:
Dean damn well knows that he doesn't have any red clothes. No green ones, either, and yet. How the hell did black t-shirts turn bright friggin' pink?!
There's a brief snicker and a gust of cold air hits his arm. Dean very slowly folds his laundry down into his duffle bag and contemplates ways to commit fratricide and get away with it.
des_pudels_kern wrote:
When he finally joins Sammy in the cafe his little brother is staring at his baby-blue t-shirt. Way too smug and not even remotely surprised.
This is when Dean decides to steal the next girl, too.
rahmi wrote:
Two weeks of being completely cockblocked by his brother later, Sam's kind of contemplating having one of his demons inhabit the girl just long enough to for it to punch Dean out.
He decides against it, because the demons are pulling happily at his mind and telling him (should, should, gouge his eyes out while we punch, we'd be happy, yes Sammy, yes). Instead, he idly toys with the label on his beer and ignores the way Dean is leaning into the girl he'd had his eye on all night.
He wonders, morbidly, if he'd be able to get laid if he started hitting on guys.
des_pudels_kern wrote:
Sammy's talking to a guy. Talking, the way Dean's talking to pretty girls. A guy. Good-looking, he guesses, but obviously male. When the son of a bitch is leaning forward to kiss his little brother, and Sam just sits there and looks encouraging, Dean snaps into action.
When he calms down again, or as calm as one can get when one's babybrother just turned gay for no apparent reason, he's got Sam tied to the bed and has tried every way he knows how to find of if someone is being possessed or cursed or otherwise influenced. And okay, he's not calm. He's about to panic.
Sam, or maybe that thing in his brother, is trying to talk him down. That everything's okay, that there's nothing wrong with him and he was just trying to fuck with him, shit, no, no, he didn't mean, not like that, Dean! He was just, god Dean, please.
And now Sammy is pleading and Dean just can't take it anymore and takes the knife and cuts the ropes through and before Sam even sits up he falls to his knees and starts babbling how this is all fucked up and he's sorry, he's so sorry Sammy's having to go through this and it's all his fault and he'll find a way to make it okay again, he swears, Sammy, he'll find a way to get rid of the demons.
rahmi wrote:
His demons are confused (what's going on, bastard brother gone crazy, yes, white room, padding, not here anymore, yes) and Sam's sure as hell confused as well, but as soon as Dean cuts him loose he grabs onto his brother.
Dean's shaking and babbling still, apologizing for every wrong he thinks he's ever done, up to and including stealing his date to prom, even though he'd never gone to prom. Sam can't get him to shut up long enough to tell him it's not his fault, so he just belly wiggles until he's holding on to more than his brother's head and makes shushing noises.
He's clinging, and most of the time Dean would holler and flail to get away, because, dude, I'm not your My Little Pony, but Dean's clinging back.
They're fucked up, Sam knows, and lets his head drop to his brother's shoulder.
"It's alright, Dean, nothing's happening, I was just messing with you, God, I'm sorry, it's alright, it's alright..."
des_pudels_kern wrote:
Dean's still not convinced, but he doesn't tell Sammy that. Psychic Sam has no idea Dean's trying to find a way, any way, to free his baby brother from the demons in his head. And obviously neither to the demons. Guess he's lucky none of them can read his thoughts or he'd be fucked.
No pun intended.
Things seem to be normal again. But they are not. There's a lot less of 'fuck' these days, and when Sam says it, he looks at Dean as if he'd just kicked a puppy when he realises what he did. A blind puppy. Dean doesn't show that he knows.
Dean's acting as if everything was okay. No way is he gonna scare Sam again. And no way in bloody hell is he gonna tip off the demons that he's still onto them.
Instead he's playing nice.
He even found a way to domesticate them.
It's kinda funny, actually. He throws some of Sam's stuff away, and they'll bring it back. Like good doggies with a stick. If he throws a book, or the laptop, they'll even catch it before it hits the ground.
Yeah, everything looks normal. Or as normal as it gets for them. Everybody thinks they are okay. He's the only one who knows they are not. And til he's ready to rid his brother of the demons, it'll stay that way.
And then we randomly change the tone into something else, because I'm good at that.
rahmi wrote:
The demons bring home a girl one day.
Dean purses his lips, but doesn't say anything, mostly because they listen to fuck all from him and he can't bitch at Sam when his little brother is damn near delirious with fever.
He concentrates on his brother, on getting Sam to drink a little bit of water before he goes back under. Sam's restless though, sweaty and shaking, and only held up by the palm Dean's got on the back of his head.
His brother almost knocks the glass out of his hand before swirling black steadies it; Dean ignores the demon (Agares, probably; the dick is a suck-up), and strokes Sammy's hair as he coaxes him to swallow.
He ignores the girl for as long as possible, but when she starts rummaging in the kitchenette? Yeah, time to pay attention to her.
He leaves his hand on Sam's head while he darts a glance her way.
The girl's maybe nineteen, a tall thing with long ass legs and pimple scars all over her face. She's kind of average; Dean wouldn't have given her a second look if her eyes hadn't been demon-black.
"We're making the general food," she says when she notices him watching, voice too deep and too empty to be human, "Humans do best on meals that aren't steeped in animal fat."
Dean rubs his forehead with his free hand and absently hums a half-forgotten lullaby when Sam whimpers.
Home made food versus telling the demons to let the girl go and having them ignore him? He supposes he could grab the holy water and harry the bitch until it flitted away, but that would involve moving away from Sam, who breathes, "Dean...?" and moves fussily the moment he moves his hand. No contest.
"Dude," he finally says, and turns all his attention back to Sammy, "Just. Remember to put her back where you found her when you're done."
"Understood," the demon mutters, and goes back to banging pots and pans
des_pudels_kern wrote:
Things are going well, considering. No, things are awesome, considering. Too good to last.
He glances at his brother, but Dean's looking straight ahead, concentraing on the road, and listening to some stupid tape. He sees the demons that are making sure it doesn't get eaten, and wishes the demons would let one of those damn things go to hell every now and then. But everything's too harmonic right now, so he doesn't tell them to.
Okay, he's still kinda hoarse, and Dean's having a hell of a time whenever he opens his mouth. Says he sounds like some of the things they hunt, which still makes the demons bristle. And he's not completely recovered yet, he gets dizzy when he moves too fast. And no way is he letting Dean know.
But the way too fucking good to last part? The demons.
They were quite impressed with Dean's performance as nurse. Obviously he did a good job taking care of him, and didn't even freak when they brought in a girl to cook and stuff. Sam's not really surprised at that. Dean's been taking care of him since he was a baby, and if he'd ever had any doubt how far he'd go to keep him safe, that stunt with the crossroads demon would have cleared that up. And he doesn't even want to think about that.
But for the demons the last two weeks were a real eye-opener. Where is was bastard brother before,it's only brother now. And looking after him because Sam made it clear that without bastard brother there'll be no general sammysam either, turned into… the way one would look after a dog. A not very well-behaved dog, that eats your shoes and pees on the carpet, but is good at heart and, at least in theory, capable of learning.
It's making things a lot easier, but is fucked up.
And Dean's taken up the annoying habit of throwing his stuff, just to have the demons bring it back. They grumble about him throwing Sam's things, but he can't hear them. He's just way too amused that they retrieve like good little dogs. That still pee on the carpet, but are, at least in theory, capable of learning.
And yeah, that's the creepiest part. His demons think of his brother as a wayward puppy, his brother thinks of his demons as wayward puppies, and he's thinks that's too good to last.
He turns away from Dean again and looks out of the window, watching the world rush by while some demon works on his tense neck.
Then? Well, then the Devil made Azael and we decided she was full of awesome. And also, that Azael is an idiot for not thinking Sammy is pretty too, but me and the Devil have an understanding about that, don't we?
des_pudels_kern wrote:
He is special. He knows that. Everybody who hears him talk knows that. he doesn't talk like this, yes, azael special, so special, yes. He has mastered the fine art of punctuation. And the use of the first person pronoun.
And unlike some of his conspecifics he does possess more than rudimentary survival instincts.
Which is why no one knows that Azael can speak.
It's simple. While a certain – inability - regarding language does not necessarily mean a demon is stupid, all those who have mastered the finer arts are mostly older, but always more powerful ones. The kind that attracts attention. And gets stabbed in the back, or rather ripped into tiny shreds before it turns into dust, at the slightest sign of weakness.
And this is where the second proof of Azael's otherness comes into play.
Azael likes pretty things.
Many demons do. Pretty things are fun to mess up.
But Azael is less unconditionally destructive and more… possessive.
No other demon but him gets to mess up the pretty.
Or would, if he had any other power than that over the proper use of period and comma.
And Sam's - sammysamuelsamgeneral a mocking voice in his mind mimics his fellow demons – brother is pretty.
So pretty.
All of them, fussing over their precious general, seeing the brother as nothing but an inconvenience they need to get rid of.
But Azael doesn't care about Sam. This world or his, it's al the same for him. Pretty things are everywhere. And if one of them disappears to be added to his little collection, well, neither man nor demon has ever suspected him before. He is not strong. But he is clever. And discreet.
None of them know. Not the other demons, not Sam, not the pretty. None know that he doesn't care about Sam and being able to roam the world. None know that all he wants isn't a way to get rid of the bastard bitch brother, as the voice supplies again, and is playing nice with the rest of them until they find a way.
All he wants is a way to get the pretty for himself.
Because the Devil is also a great, great friend and full of all things sparkly and nice, she also drabbled straight up crack at me in this 'verse when I was ready to gnash my teeth. It is good. There is Jo bashing, but we love Jo, so don't jump down our throats, okay? Okay.
des_pudels_kern wrote:
Sam ducks behind a car and waits for the watchman to pass him by. They are in a garage. A multi-storey parking garage.
What happened to good old-fashioned haunted castles?
But even if the location's a bit unusual, there's definitely a hunt here. Fuck, they've had a haunted wharf, so he guesses he shouldn't be surprised at this.
Still, he's kinda pissed he didn't find this one earlier. 28 deaths in the last seven years.
It started when the place was a newly opened office building. Five dead clerks in the third weeks. No more after that, but the firm left when they couldn't find out who did it. Next firm, same pattern. Five deaths in the third week. And so on. The only thing the victims had in common was the way they died. Ripped apart. Whatever it is, it's strong.
They finally tore the whole building down and built the garage. Eight fucking levels. I have no idea how many levels a garage can have, especially in the US, so I just randomly picked a number. And sure enough four days ago the killing started again. That's when he read about it.
So now Dean and he are searching the whole eight levels. When they are not hiding from the exponentially growing number of watchmen, that it. Fuck, it's already five in the morning, soon the sun's gonna come up ad they'll have to leave.
And did he mention that his demons are hovering? For once the are not complaining about his hunting, instead they tell him (nonono samsammy leave yes leave not safe here bad bad leave nice hunt in the next state yes hunt there sam yes), which is not very reassuring. First he'd been thinking they know what it is, but they only feel that it's bad. And dangerous. Which is why there is hovering now.
Dean of course thinks they are lying. Of course they are not telling you, Sam, it's probably a distant relative. And he was convinced they hoped it would kill him.
Dean, who's alone on floor seven right now. Because that fucking watchman had appeared at exactly the wrong moment, forcing Sam to duck behind a car while Dean had already been on the ramp to the next floor. And if Sam had been stupid enough to believe that Dean would just hide behind the railing and wait, the demons would have told him otherwise. Not that it does much good to have your private demon army tell you when your brother starts to go into possible danger without you when they refuse to leave you and go with him.
The watchman's finally wandered off. Sam's moving around the corner when he sees Dean appear further up the ramp. And, okay, he does feel kinda relieved at seeing his bitch of a big brother in one piece and unharmed.
"Sam, run!"
Dean on the other hand doesn't sound very happy to see him. The demons are getting anxious.
Sam's raising the shotgun, because no way is he gonna run when something's after his brother. Dean looks downright scared. And the demons still have no idea what's going on, which is probably why they are starting to panic.
"Dean, what-"
"Fuck, Sammy, quiet! Hide!"
Dean grabs his arm and shoves him back to the car he's been hiding behind before. And they almost make it before something calls his name and both of them freeze.
"Dean?"
Sam can feel the tension through the death grip his brother's holding his shoulder with, a non-verbal plead/order not to do anything stupid now. Still, he turns around, and there is a smile on Dean's face, forced, but he doesn't think she'll notice that.
"Hey Jo! Didn't see you there. How ya doing?"
And the demons are so confused Sam's biting his lip bloody trying not to laugh out loud. He doesn't think Jo'd understand.
rahmi wrote:
Dean really, really, really wishes he'd taken the demon's suggestions. Really. If he'd just let them take Sam the next state over, they'd have a nice, easy, happy hunt to keep them occupied and he wouldn't have to deal with... this.
But, noooo, he had to tell that one to shove it (whichever one it is that likes to flush the toilet when he's in the fucking shower, he's positive).
He can tell Sam's laughing at him, the ginormous fucker, even if he's biting his lip and putting on his, "I'm harmless and interested in you and by the way, have you seen anyone die horribly lately? Thanks," face.
Dean's gonna kill his little brother. Then he stops, considers just when the last time they saw Jo was, and lets a slow, malicious smile take over the forced one he's wearing. Sam looks a little scared.
"You're huntin' this thing too, huh?" Jo asks, and she looks so damn happy to see him that he wants to crawl under the car and die. Jesus Christ. It's like looking at Sammy when he was eleven and developed that painful, awkward crush on him that they're pretending never, ever happened (though, man, Dad's face when Sam started blushing beat red and giggling whenever Dean walked into the room? Priceless.)
"Yeah," Sam says, still looking torn between wanting to giggle like a schoolgirl and terrified of what Dean's cooking up in his head. Smart boy, his Sammy. "Twenty-eight deaths, that's not really something you can walk away from." He gives her the Sam-grin that usually makes women light up with maternal instincts; Jo cringes back a little bit, and now Dean's a little pissed on top of being scared of her.
It's one thing for him to plan to use Sam's previous demonic rent-a-spaceness to get out of here. It's another for Jo to look at him like he's going to eat her face off.
"He was possessed," he says sharply. Both Jo and Sam turn to look at him with equally horrified expressions and he doesn't care. "It wasn't his fault, so you stop looking at him like that."
Sam's foot comes down on his own, but Dean just tightens the grip he's got on his little brother's arm and shrugs philosophically. He's not going to let anyone look at his brother like that.
Then he squints in Jo's direction, making the woman preen; he's not really paying attention to her though (and he's really, really not paying attention to the way she seems to be holding her gun wrong, because that's just gonna make him give her a goddamn lesson on proper firearm care and Sam would call him a motherhen again, the bitch). There's something a little more intersting going on around her, because he's almost positive he can see a smoke outline peeking down her lowcut shirt and another one inching towards her pants, and Sam chokes just as he's raising his eyebrows.
"Uh," his baby brother mutters, "Maybe we should, you know, just leave this hunt to you? You're getting pretty good, I've heard, and you don't need us hanging around, and..."
His brother trails off, because Jo is just clearly not paying attention to him. Dean feels like a plate of meat, which, usually? He's pretty damn okay with, but not when the girl has a mom that is fully capable of kicking his ass.
"You don't have to leave," Jo says. It's pretty clear that she means, "Dean doesn't have to leave. You can go to hell, Sam," so Dean smiles again, the nice, forced one that Sam's informed him makes him look about two seconds away from asking for your babies, and shakes his head.
"We've got another hunt we've been keeping an eye on, sweetheart. This one's all yours."
Jo looks disappointed. Also, two seconds away from dropping her pants and inviting Dean to take her now. He uses the grip he has on Sam's arm to pull his brother away, still smiling at her, and hopes the demons are feeling nice enough to keep them both from running into a wall like idiots.
"Dude." Dean says afterwards, while their trudging to his baby, "Your demons have shitty taste in women."
Sam scratches the back of his head, runs a thumb across his eyebrows. "It wasn't like that man," Sammy finally says, sounding small and vaguely horrified, "They were dividing her up."
"They were what?"
"They. Zaebos wanted to eat her," Sam makes the universal motion for tits and blushes, "And Agares thinks her butt would have bee-- you know what? Nevermind. They liked her."
"Uh-huh. Liked her. Remind me not to let them like me, alright?"
"They don't," Sam says, still blushing and almost, almost stammering. Dean's reminded again of eleven year old Sam-I-Am with his massive crush and grins; he really was adorable back then, all offers to do stuff and happy little sighs when Dean gave in and let him cuddle up to him. "They're kind of. They're a little protective of you, alright, and they didn't like the way Jo was looking at you. They think you're. It's."
Dean flips the collar up on his jacket and stares at his brother. "It's what, Sammy?"
"They think you're my bitch," Sam finally blurts, and looks like he wants to die.
Dean doesn't know whether to start laughing and never stop, or to go grab the holy water and show all those demons just who the bitch is. He settles for the holy water.
Later, when Sam won't look at him, but tells him that the demons are keeping a very, very low profile, he twists his mouth and reaches for his brother. Sam looks a little like he's waiting for a punch, so Dean smirks at him.
"You're the bitch," he mutters. Then he kisses him to prove it.
Yeah, still cute when he's blushing and stammering. Awesome.
This is kind of where it takes a sharp turn. You see, the Devil started writing angst after this, and I have this urge to write fluff, and, really? Both are equally good for me. So. ALTERNATE UNIVERSE PUPPY FIC. Only I don't know which is the alternate. Probably mine.
The Devil's angsty Wincest:
des_pudels_kern wrote:
Sam blinks once, twice, thrice, before Dean notices he's not kissing back.
The demons are cheering him on, and he'd really rather think about that than the fact that his big brother just kissed him! But they are not doing anything right now, at least not anything that requires him to do anything else than blink stupidly, and Dean's standing right in front of him, his expression weirdly blank, but he's clearly expecting him to say something. So he says the first thing that crossed his mind.
"Dude, now who's gay!"
He's still doing the blinking, so he can't be sure, but Dean's face seems to… crumble, and for one horrible moment he thinks Dean looks just like he did in Cold Oak, when he realized that Sam – but he must have been wrong, because of course his jerk of a brother is grinning like the idiot he is and thinks this is just hilarious.
"Ah, had you going there, Sammy!"
"Did not!"
"Did too! Shoulda seen your face, Sam, you were shocked!"
"Just shocked that you're thinking I'd fall for that!"
"Nah, you really thought I'd mean it! No reason to deny it, Sammy, you know it, I know it, and if they've been looking, your pets know it too: I got you!"
And, okay, maybe Dean did get him, but fuck, Dean's grinning at him like that, and he's not gonna admit he's right, he's gonna think about how to swipe that grin of his son of a bitch brother's face.
Of course the demons are still playing dead. Useless bastards.
That thought of course gets them going. (no not useless great powerful dangerous killed the one from the crossroads didn't we and) Okay, he interrupts them, help me out here. The voices die down again to an almost embarrassed (samsammy holy water burns burns so much sammy don't make us please hurts). Useless and spineless.
But he's been swiping grins off Dean's for as long as he can remember, he can handle this without demonic help, thank you very much.
"Dean, when are we meeting Jo?"
Oh, he's good. Some stranger might think he's going for distractive, but he knows this is going right for the kill. Not exactly fair play, but he knows now he'sgot Dean.
And sure enough, Dean swallows, grabs his jacket, and goes for a tactical retreat.
"You know, I think I should go right now and meet her. Things to talk about, you know. Stuff."
Sam can only go back to blinking stupidly as his brother does something he thought he'd never do in Ellen's lifetime, namely taking off to visit Jo in her motel room.
Dean just left to hook up with Jo, complete with that nice, forced smile in place again, and he can't for the life of him figure out what went wrong.
He blinks again.
Wait.
And again.
Did Dean put that smile on before he brought Jo up?!?
des_pudels_kern wrote:
He officially does not understand his brother.
They are sitting in a bar, he, Dean, and Jo. And he feels like the proverbial fifth wheel. Plus he's wondering if his brother's been replaced by a shape shifter again.
Jo's all over Dean. Her hands are everywhere. As are her lips.
Sam takes a swig of his beer.
And Dean lets her.
He just smiles at her, that horrible wrong smile, but of course she doesn't notice that, and touches back. Kisses back.
It's creepy. Scary. And not right.
Sam wants to jump up, shove her away, and just scream Wrong, wrong, wrong! on top of his lungs.
Instead he clenches his hands around his bottle and takes slow, controlled breaths. And a swig every twenty-five breaths.
He didn't need the demons to tell him. He can smell the sex on both of them.
It took all he had to tell the demons no when they offered to (maim her kill hurt dirty bitch ripping off hands make her regret touching general's brother gouge out eyes for looking at him like that make her swallow own tongue for) – another swig of beer. He knows they mean well, but wishes they'd stop offering. Telling them off is getting harder.
He likes Jo, that's not it! But what's happening is plain wrong! Dean would never, not with Jo, except that, obviously, he just did.
Fuck.
It can't be because of what he said about Dean being gay. It can't. He knows Dean's not gay, and Dean knows he knows. Dean's the last one who'd have to prove his sexuality. Especially to Sam, who knows his brother's track record.
He's screwed. Something's wrong with his brother, seriously wrong, and he's got no idea what to do.
He's not possessed, that much the demons could tell him. He's no shape shifter either. And Jo's too much of a hunter to lay a curse on Dean just to get him into her bed, no matter how happy all this makes her.
He's just lifting his bottle when out of nowhere someone grabs his shoulder. Sam jerks back, half glides, half stumbles of the bar stool, and manages to spill his beer in the process, spraying himself and Dean.
His brother lets go of his shoulder once he's steadied, reluctant, as if he's afraid Sam's gonna do something, stumble again, fall, run. He doesn't know, and Dean's face only shows barely recognizable worry.
"You okay, dude?"
It takes him another one or two seconds to realize it was Dean grabbing his shoulder, that he must have called Sam, trying to get his attention, and went for the hands-on approach only when that didn’t work.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I was just…"
Waving his free hand in a way that could mean anything, he trails of.
Dean looks skeptical, but then Jo puts her arm around his waist and her tongue in his mouth and does her best to distract him from his freak of a brother, and Sam's busy listening to the demons and their gory descriptions of what they plan to do to Jo's tongue as soon as Sam lest them.
Sam ignores them and clears his throat, not to interrupt their kiss, but Dean was trying to get his attention for a reason, right? Not even Dean would call him just to have him watch his big brother virtually eat a girl's face off… Okay, Dean would.
But for once Sam's lucky, and Dean looks up.
"Jo and me are gonna go back to the motel. Meet you at the garage at sundown?"
Or not.
"Sure. See you-"
But the happy couple has already turned and to their best to get a ticket for scandalization before getting to their room.
Sam knows that there's something going on right before his eyes he just can't get a hold of. But fuck if he knows what.
He turns back to the bar and orders something harder. Who cares that it's only three in the afternoon? He needs that now.
It takes him three shots to notice the confused demons trying to comfort him.
des_pudels_kern wrote:
Dean takes a step back while Jo opens the door to the motel room. Hers. Doing this in the room he shares with Sammy would have been… Well, he doesn't know if he could live up to her expectations, knowing that the bed next to theirs is his baby brother's, his Sam's.
Jo opens the door and waves him in. She is hot, no doubt about that. And the sex was mind-blowing.
Still, that's it. He likes her, but nothing more. And while he's had more than enough sex with girls he just liked, hell, with girls he didn't even like, just because he felt like it, or wanted something from them, he's not sure hooking up with Ellen's daughter is healthy. Scratch that, he knows it isn't. Ellen's gonna have his hide when she finds out.
But she's kissing him again, and damn, if Ellen knew how good her daughter was at that she'd give him a medal for not doing anything that long!
Jo's unbuttoning his shirt now, muttering things his mind blanks out completely. When she decides it takes too long, she just rips it open, sending buttons flying through the room.
What Dean thinks off while he all but wrestles her out of her top is hw he doesn't even feel bad anymore for using her. He did earlier, when he virtually ran from Sam, afraid his brother would guess what that kiss really meant. But now? He knows he's not really into Jo, and Sam at least picked up on something, even if he doesn't know what.
But Jo doesn't question her good luck. It's as if she doesn't even realize that some time between dawn and noon he took a U-turn. She sure as hell isn't looking.
She's just a convenient fuck for him, the one that happened to be available when he needed to lull Sammy. And he's nothing too different for her. She fucks him to spite her Mom, because he's a hunter and a Winchester and a player. That he's hot probably helps, too.
But what he thought was almost a little girl's crush turned out to be nothing innocent and nice or remotely about love. He figures if he told her the only part of her that'd be hurt would be her pride. So fucking Jo is okay. He's not gonna break her heart, and she won't break his. She can't. Only Sammy can do that.
Already did, too.
Twice.
Once when he left for another life, one without Dean.
And once when he died, leaving Dean behind.
So if Sam wants normal, he'll give him normal. As normal as it can get for them. And that includes no way no bloody hell is he gonna let Sammy know that his feelings for him are not exactly brotherly.
He's not gonna lose him again.
So he's fucking Jo, because he made a mistake and kissed Sam. And he guesses he's one lucky bastard because Sam thought he was playing him. Having Ellen skin him alive is a small price for keeping Sam with him. And one thing Dean's learned early enough is that nothing comes without a price. He's just glad he's not paying for some temporary madness, a.k.a. a kiss, with his brother.
So he rids Jo of her bra, the last piece of clothing she's wearing, and throws her on the bed with a leering grin, only to have her hook a foot behind his leg and make him fall right on top of her.
Time to stop with the emo already and have some fun.
"Excuse me?"
Both of them bolt from the bed, for cover, weapons, cloths. But standing in the door is no demon, just some nervous-looking kid. Has probably never seen a naked woman before, and they were about to show him a fucking porno. Dean's not blushing, but Jo is, which helps Dean to recover his high spirits and his voice.
"Didn't your parents teach you to knock?"
The kid stares at him.
"I have no parents."
That brings Jo in.
"Awww, I'm so sorry. You poor deary! What's wrong? Do you need help? Come in, I got cookies somewhere over there."
And Dean doesn't really mind her asking the boy in, because no way is her gonna fuck her after what she just said. Jo with mother instincts? If he didn't just see it he wouldn't believe it.
He's in his jeans by then, and Jo's trying to get dressed without letting go of the sheet she's wrapped herself in. He thinks he should tell her to do the poor deary a real favour and just drop the sheet when he realizes it. The kid's not looking at her.
He's what? Twelve, thirteen? An age when even Sam would have stared at a naked woman making contortions just across the room. That's when Dean sees it. That flash of black in his eyes.
He's proud he's not diving for the next gun, knife, or salt shaker, because if this is one of Sam's he can't give him away to Jo. Not that he cared for the bastards, but he can't let Jo know about Sam. Fuck, he hopes it's one of Sam's, or they're screwed.
The kid politely declines any offer of cookies, lemonade, and milk (fuck, Jo, milk?!?), sitting fidgety on the rumpled bed. Jo still seems in full motherhen mode and coos over the thing like over a puppy. Or baby. Or anything else tiny and useless. It's minutes of having the demon shoot nervous glances at him, which at least confirms him that one, it is one of Sam's, and second, it isn't just here to interrupt his fun because he stands between them and their precious general.
When he finally gets around to throw the question in, the answer doesn't do much to reassure him though.
"Kid, why'd you come here?"
The demon looks at him almost comically grateful as he babbles.
"Sam's in the bar, and we think he's been drinking a bit too much, and there's this guy, and he should leve, but he won't listen, and we thought it would be best if you came and got him. Right now."
And with that he takes off, probably scared of Jo and her cookies. Dean only grabs his jacket, and it's not his fault Jo was sitting on it and is now toppling to the floor, then he's out of the room, too, heading straight back to the bar, going as fast as he can without drawing unwanted attention.
des_pudels_kern wrote:
He takes the scene in the moment he enters the bar. Sam's leaning against the pool table, cornered by five or six pissed off guys. Leaning, because he's clearly too drunk to even stand straight. Pissed off, because Sammy obviously managed to win the heap of money lying in the middle of the table tight now even though he's too drunk to even stand on his own.
Dean can't help but feel ridiculously proud at that.
The men around Sam seem to do nothing but sprout threads and insults right now, so Dean collects information. Yes, despite what his baby brother thinks – and voices loud and clear every chance he gets - he doesn't storm into a fight unprepared.
He just waits long enough to catch Sam's eye, letting him know he's there, before he turns around to the next onlooker he doesn't recognize from earlier and who shouldn't recognize him in turn, either. Last thing he needs is some idiot brawling if he isn't the guy who had been friendly with the punching bag-to-be not even an hour ago.
His informant, Ken, and the poor bloke even looks like a eunuch, is happy to tell him all that's happened.
Shit.
Sam obviously managed to be a pain-in-the-ass idiot even though he's too drunk to stand on his own.
Dean taught his brother to win at pool. He taught him there's nothing wrong with winning a lot. He sure as hell didn't teach him to insult the loser's masculinity, gall them a bunch of girls, and smack the leader's ass.
And this time he's pretty sure the demons had nothing to do with it. The one in the brat was too scared.
So it looks like his baby brother may be gay, bi, he reminds himself, because Jessica was one helluva woman, after all.
Dean's screwed.
Seeing Sam with girls is okay. He can handle that.
But even thinking about his Sammy with a man, some stranger, he can't… Dean swallows. They were going after this monster cat once, he and Dad. They got it, of course, and without a scratch on either of them. But then it turned out kitty had a girlfriend. The bitch had almost gutted Dean. He vaguely remembers Dad dragging him back to the cars, one of his hands pressed on Dean's stomach, so nothing spilled out. And he remembers the pain.
That's how he feels right now.
He couldn't compete with normal, with a job as a lawyer, a wife, and 1.5 children.
He can live with a dead girlfriend. He knows he's always been second-best to Sam, knows he always would have been.
But he won't be able to compete with this kind of normal either.
He's gonna lose him again, and this time there'll be no tragic death to bring Sam back to him. He doesn't want Sam to have to go through that ever again, no matter what.
But knowing that, knowing that while the ghost of Jess will never let Sam settle down with another woman, he can do just that with some guy, be normal and happy again, leaving Dean alone…
It feels exactly like the cat's claws.
This first set is mostly in an order (of some sort, at any rate) so I'm going to leave them all stuck together. The other ones are going to be seperated out according to what the devil they're babbling about.
des_pudels_kern wrote:
He was going to have a word with Sammy. If he wanted to keep his new pets, they had to be housebroken. Problem was, they didn't seem to listen to Dean at all. "Bad demons, bad!"
rahmiwrote:
It wasn't his fault the demons left stuff all over the hotel rooms. Really. And, okay, so it was gross to wake up in the morning to cow guts all over Dean and his bed, but. Well, he kind of likes the demons' sense of humor and he spends every morning laughing himself sick in the bathroom
des_pudels_kern wrote:
"Sam!", he growls at his brother. The son of a bitch of course chooses that moment to disappear into the bathroom again. Nevermind that he woke up to find his last clean shirts reeking of sulfur. And that stink doesn't wash out again, he's had plenty opportunity to try. What was it with those bastards and his stuff? Glaring at the closed door and the demons that he just knows are swirling between him and their oh-so precious general, he steals one of Sam's shirts. And if he has to give it back gutty and stinking, all the better.
rahmi wrote:
(bastard bitch brother, wearing general's shirt, clothes, clothes, don't get them messy, clean, must be clean, no sulfur, no cow) the demons hissed restlessly and Sam smiled.
"Why don't you leave the shirt alone and get his boots?" (boots, boots, boots) the demons chant, sputtering laughter. Dean wakes up in the morning and heaves a sigh of relief, because he's not covered in gunk for once, and then he slips his feet into his boots; Sam has to crawl out of the ridiculously small bathroom window in order to escape his murderous brother.
des_pudels_kern wrote:
Dean grins as Sam leaves their room. Both his clothes and his hair are rumpled, and he hasn't gotten any sleep that night. But getting back to the motel after spending the whole night 'talking' with that girl (well, she did tell him some useful things. And it wouldn't have been very nice to just leave as soon as he got what he came for, right?), the one Sam had been ogling all evening without getting any reaction, and knowing that Sam knows how he spent the night, yeah, that's worth being tired. And he can catch some sleep now, while Sammy's off to do some research with the info Dean has... collected. All the better that the demons trail after Sam like a bunch of puppies and he doesn't have to worry about his clothes for once.
And still wearing a shirt that's ripped open almost down to his belly button and a smug grin he drops on the bed.
rahmi wrote:
Only to pop back up seconds later, because there is some kind of slimy shit that squishes out of his covers the minute his back touches them and that is just not on.
His happy high starts to diminish rapidly as he realizes that his duffle back is also looking suspiciously damp.
Whatever the hell the stuff is, it's green and has the consistency of slime and Dean's almost impressed with the demons' ability to find weird shit to pour all over his stuff. Almost. As it is, he picks up Sam's duffle, rips back the covers on his bed, and pours all of his brother's clothes in the slime. Let him be slimy.
He picks up his duffle and whistles his way to the nearest laundrymat.
des_pudels_kern wrote:
Sam strechtes his legs. Cafe tables are not made for people his seize. And no matter what a jerk Dean was last night, he shouldn't have stormed off like this as soon as he got enough to start on the research of the haunted wharf. He's be in a better mood now if he'd stayed and watched his brother get all green and slimy.
He looks out of the window for the umpteenth time in the last quarter hour and sure enough this time he sees Dean headed for the laundromat down the road. His appearing grin dies the second he sees his brother is whistling. And still looking smug.
He's desperate enough to ponder hooking up with Jo next time they meet her just to pay Dean back when he notices the bitching demon headed towards the laundromat.
He forgets about Jo and turns back to his laptop with a smug grin of his own.
rahmi wrote:
Dean damn well knows that he doesn't have any red clothes. No green ones, either, and yet. How the hell did black t-shirts turn bright friggin' pink?!
There's a brief snicker and a gust of cold air hits his arm. Dean very slowly folds his laundry down into his duffle bag and contemplates ways to commit fratricide and get away with it.
des_pudels_kern wrote:
When he finally joins Sammy in the cafe his little brother is staring at his baby-blue t-shirt. Way too smug and not even remotely surprised.
This is when Dean decides to steal the next girl, too.
rahmi wrote:
Two weeks of being completely cockblocked by his brother later, Sam's kind of contemplating having one of his demons inhabit the girl just long enough to for it to punch Dean out.
He decides against it, because the demons are pulling happily at his mind and telling him (should, should, gouge his eyes out while we punch, we'd be happy, yes Sammy, yes). Instead, he idly toys with the label on his beer and ignores the way Dean is leaning into the girl he'd had his eye on all night.
He wonders, morbidly, if he'd be able to get laid if he started hitting on guys.
des_pudels_kern wrote:
Sammy's talking to a guy. Talking, the way Dean's talking to pretty girls. A guy. Good-looking, he guesses, but obviously male. When the son of a bitch is leaning forward to kiss his little brother, and Sam just sits there and looks encouraging, Dean snaps into action.
When he calms down again, or as calm as one can get when one's babybrother just turned gay for no apparent reason, he's got Sam tied to the bed and has tried every way he knows how to find of if someone is being possessed or cursed or otherwise influenced. And okay, he's not calm. He's about to panic.
Sam, or maybe that thing in his brother, is trying to talk him down. That everything's okay, that there's nothing wrong with him and he was just trying to fuck with him, shit, no, no, he didn't mean, not like that, Dean! He was just, god Dean, please.
And now Sammy is pleading and Dean just can't take it anymore and takes the knife and cuts the ropes through and before Sam even sits up he falls to his knees and starts babbling how this is all fucked up and he's sorry, he's so sorry Sammy's having to go through this and it's all his fault and he'll find a way to make it okay again, he swears, Sammy, he'll find a way to get rid of the demons.
rahmi wrote:
His demons are confused (what's going on, bastard brother gone crazy, yes, white room, padding, not here anymore, yes) and Sam's sure as hell confused as well, but as soon as Dean cuts him loose he grabs onto his brother.
Dean's shaking and babbling still, apologizing for every wrong he thinks he's ever done, up to and including stealing his date to prom, even though he'd never gone to prom. Sam can't get him to shut up long enough to tell him it's not his fault, so he just belly wiggles until he's holding on to more than his brother's head and makes shushing noises.
He's clinging, and most of the time Dean would holler and flail to get away, because, dude, I'm not your My Little Pony, but Dean's clinging back.
They're fucked up, Sam knows, and lets his head drop to his brother's shoulder.
"It's alright, Dean, nothing's happening, I was just messing with you, God, I'm sorry, it's alright, it's alright..."
des_pudels_kern wrote:
Dean's still not convinced, but he doesn't tell Sammy that. Psychic Sam has no idea Dean's trying to find a way, any way, to free his baby brother from the demons in his head. And obviously neither to the demons. Guess he's lucky none of them can read his thoughts or he'd be fucked.
No pun intended.
Things seem to be normal again. But they are not. There's a lot less of 'fuck' these days, and when Sam says it, he looks at Dean as if he'd just kicked a puppy when he realises what he did. A blind puppy. Dean doesn't show that he knows.
Dean's acting as if everything was okay. No way is he gonna scare Sam again. And no way in bloody hell is he gonna tip off the demons that he's still onto them.
Instead he's playing nice.
He even found a way to domesticate them.
It's kinda funny, actually. He throws some of Sam's stuff away, and they'll bring it back. Like good doggies with a stick. If he throws a book, or the laptop, they'll even catch it before it hits the ground.
Yeah, everything looks normal. Or as normal as it gets for them. Everybody thinks they are okay. He's the only one who knows they are not. And til he's ready to rid his brother of the demons, it'll stay that way.
And then we randomly change the tone into something else, because I'm good at that.
rahmi wrote:
The demons bring home a girl one day.
Dean purses his lips, but doesn't say anything, mostly because they listen to fuck all from him and he can't bitch at Sam when his little brother is damn near delirious with fever.
He concentrates on his brother, on getting Sam to drink a little bit of water before he goes back under. Sam's restless though, sweaty and shaking, and only held up by the palm Dean's got on the back of his head.
His brother almost knocks the glass out of his hand before swirling black steadies it; Dean ignores the demon (Agares, probably; the dick is a suck-up), and strokes Sammy's hair as he coaxes him to swallow.
He ignores the girl for as long as possible, but when she starts rummaging in the kitchenette? Yeah, time to pay attention to her.
He leaves his hand on Sam's head while he darts a glance her way.
The girl's maybe nineteen, a tall thing with long ass legs and pimple scars all over her face. She's kind of average; Dean wouldn't have given her a second look if her eyes hadn't been demon-black.
"We're making the general food," she says when she notices him watching, voice too deep and too empty to be human, "Humans do best on meals that aren't steeped in animal fat."
Dean rubs his forehead with his free hand and absently hums a half-forgotten lullaby when Sam whimpers.
Home made food versus telling the demons to let the girl go and having them ignore him? He supposes he could grab the holy water and harry the bitch until it flitted away, but that would involve moving away from Sam, who breathes, "Dean...?" and moves fussily the moment he moves his hand. No contest.
"Dude," he finally says, and turns all his attention back to Sammy, "Just. Remember to put her back where you found her when you're done."
"Understood," the demon mutters, and goes back to banging pots and pans
des_pudels_kern wrote:
Things are going well, considering. No, things are awesome, considering. Too good to last.
He glances at his brother, but Dean's looking straight ahead, concentraing on the road, and listening to some stupid tape. He sees the demons that are making sure it doesn't get eaten, and wishes the demons would let one of those damn things go to hell every now and then. But everything's too harmonic right now, so he doesn't tell them to.
Okay, he's still kinda hoarse, and Dean's having a hell of a time whenever he opens his mouth. Says he sounds like some of the things they hunt, which still makes the demons bristle. And he's not completely recovered yet, he gets dizzy when he moves too fast. And no way is he letting Dean know.
But the way too fucking good to last part? The demons.
They were quite impressed with Dean's performance as nurse. Obviously he did a good job taking care of him, and didn't even freak when they brought in a girl to cook and stuff. Sam's not really surprised at that. Dean's been taking care of him since he was a baby, and if he'd ever had any doubt how far he'd go to keep him safe, that stunt with the crossroads demon would have cleared that up. And he doesn't even want to think about that.
But for the demons the last two weeks were a real eye-opener. Where is was bastard brother before,it's only brother now. And looking after him because Sam made it clear that without bastard brother there'll be no general sammysam either, turned into… the way one would look after a dog. A not very well-behaved dog, that eats your shoes and pees on the carpet, but is good at heart and, at least in theory, capable of learning.
It's making things a lot easier, but is fucked up.
And Dean's taken up the annoying habit of throwing his stuff, just to have the demons bring it back. They grumble about him throwing Sam's things, but he can't hear them. He's just way too amused that they retrieve like good little dogs. That still pee on the carpet, but are, at least in theory, capable of learning.
And yeah, that's the creepiest part. His demons think of his brother as a wayward puppy, his brother thinks of his demons as wayward puppies, and he's thinks that's too good to last.
He turns away from Dean again and looks out of the window, watching the world rush by while some demon works on his tense neck.
Then? Well, then the Devil made Azael and we decided she was full of awesome. And also, that Azael is an idiot for not thinking Sammy is pretty too, but me and the Devil have an understanding about that, don't we?
des_pudels_kern wrote:
He is special. He knows that. Everybody who hears him talk knows that. he doesn't talk like this, yes, azael special, so special, yes. He has mastered the fine art of punctuation. And the use of the first person pronoun.
And unlike some of his conspecifics he does possess more than rudimentary survival instincts.
Which is why no one knows that Azael can speak.
It's simple. While a certain – inability - regarding language does not necessarily mean a demon is stupid, all those who have mastered the finer arts are mostly older, but always more powerful ones. The kind that attracts attention. And gets stabbed in the back, or rather ripped into tiny shreds before it turns into dust, at the slightest sign of weakness.
And this is where the second proof of Azael's otherness comes into play.
Azael likes pretty things.
Many demons do. Pretty things are fun to mess up.
But Azael is less unconditionally destructive and more… possessive.
No other demon but him gets to mess up the pretty.
Or would, if he had any other power than that over the proper use of period and comma.
And Sam's - sammysamuelsamgeneral a mocking voice in his mind mimics his fellow demons – brother is pretty.
So pretty.
All of them, fussing over their precious general, seeing the brother as nothing but an inconvenience they need to get rid of.
But Azael doesn't care about Sam. This world or his, it's al the same for him. Pretty things are everywhere. And if one of them disappears to be added to his little collection, well, neither man nor demon has ever suspected him before. He is not strong. But he is clever. And discreet.
None of them know. Not the other demons, not Sam, not the pretty. None know that he doesn't care about Sam and being able to roam the world. None know that all he wants isn't a way to get rid of the bastard bitch brother, as the voice supplies again, and is playing nice with the rest of them until they find a way.
All he wants is a way to get the pretty for himself.
Because the Devil is also a great, great friend and full of all things sparkly and nice, she also drabbled straight up crack at me in this 'verse when I was ready to gnash my teeth. It is good. There is Jo bashing, but we love Jo, so don't jump down our throats, okay? Okay.
des_pudels_kern wrote:
Sam ducks behind a car and waits for the watchman to pass him by. They are in a garage. A multi-storey parking garage.
What happened to good old-fashioned haunted castles?
But even if the location's a bit unusual, there's definitely a hunt here. Fuck, they've had a haunted wharf, so he guesses he shouldn't be surprised at this.
Still, he's kinda pissed he didn't find this one earlier. 28 deaths in the last seven years.
It started when the place was a newly opened office building. Five dead clerks in the third weeks. No more after that, but the firm left when they couldn't find out who did it. Next firm, same pattern. Five deaths in the third week. And so on. The only thing the victims had in common was the way they died. Ripped apart. Whatever it is, it's strong.
They finally tore the whole building down and built the garage. Eight fucking levels. I have no idea how many levels a garage can have, especially in the US, so I just randomly picked a number. And sure enough four days ago the killing started again. That's when he read about it.
So now Dean and he are searching the whole eight levels. When they are not hiding from the exponentially growing number of watchmen, that it. Fuck, it's already five in the morning, soon the sun's gonna come up ad they'll have to leave.
And did he mention that his demons are hovering? For once the are not complaining about his hunting, instead they tell him (nonono samsammy leave yes leave not safe here bad bad leave nice hunt in the next state yes hunt there sam yes), which is not very reassuring. First he'd been thinking they know what it is, but they only feel that it's bad. And dangerous. Which is why there is hovering now.
Dean of course thinks they are lying. Of course they are not telling you, Sam, it's probably a distant relative. And he was convinced they hoped it would kill him.
Dean, who's alone on floor seven right now. Because that fucking watchman had appeared at exactly the wrong moment, forcing Sam to duck behind a car while Dean had already been on the ramp to the next floor. And if Sam had been stupid enough to believe that Dean would just hide behind the railing and wait, the demons would have told him otherwise. Not that it does much good to have your private demon army tell you when your brother starts to go into possible danger without you when they refuse to leave you and go with him.
The watchman's finally wandered off. Sam's moving around the corner when he sees Dean appear further up the ramp. And, okay, he does feel kinda relieved at seeing his bitch of a big brother in one piece and unharmed.
"Sam, run!"
Dean on the other hand doesn't sound very happy to see him. The demons are getting anxious.
Sam's raising the shotgun, because no way is he gonna run when something's after his brother. Dean looks downright scared. And the demons still have no idea what's going on, which is probably why they are starting to panic.
"Dean, what-"
"Fuck, Sammy, quiet! Hide!"
Dean grabs his arm and shoves him back to the car he's been hiding behind before. And they almost make it before something calls his name and both of them freeze.
"Dean?"
Sam can feel the tension through the death grip his brother's holding his shoulder with, a non-verbal plead/order not to do anything stupid now. Still, he turns around, and there is a smile on Dean's face, forced, but he doesn't think she'll notice that.
"Hey Jo! Didn't see you there. How ya doing?"
And the demons are so confused Sam's biting his lip bloody trying not to laugh out loud. He doesn't think Jo'd understand.
rahmi wrote:
Dean really, really, really wishes he'd taken the demon's suggestions. Really. If he'd just let them take Sam the next state over, they'd have a nice, easy, happy hunt to keep them occupied and he wouldn't have to deal with... this.
But, noooo, he had to tell that one to shove it (whichever one it is that likes to flush the toilet when he's in the fucking shower, he's positive).
He can tell Sam's laughing at him, the ginormous fucker, even if he's biting his lip and putting on his, "I'm harmless and interested in you and by the way, have you seen anyone die horribly lately? Thanks," face.
Dean's gonna kill his little brother. Then he stops, considers just when the last time they saw Jo was, and lets a slow, malicious smile take over the forced one he's wearing. Sam looks a little scared.
"You're huntin' this thing too, huh?" Jo asks, and she looks so damn happy to see him that he wants to crawl under the car and die. Jesus Christ. It's like looking at Sammy when he was eleven and developed that painful, awkward crush on him that they're pretending never, ever happened (though, man, Dad's face when Sam started blushing beat red and giggling whenever Dean walked into the room? Priceless.)
"Yeah," Sam says, still looking torn between wanting to giggle like a schoolgirl and terrified of what Dean's cooking up in his head. Smart boy, his Sammy. "Twenty-eight deaths, that's not really something you can walk away from." He gives her the Sam-grin that usually makes women light up with maternal instincts; Jo cringes back a little bit, and now Dean's a little pissed on top of being scared of her.
It's one thing for him to plan to use Sam's previous demonic rent-a-spaceness to get out of here. It's another for Jo to look at him like he's going to eat her face off.
"He was possessed," he says sharply. Both Jo and Sam turn to look at him with equally horrified expressions and he doesn't care. "It wasn't his fault, so you stop looking at him like that."
Sam's foot comes down on his own, but Dean just tightens the grip he's got on his little brother's arm and shrugs philosophically. He's not going to let anyone look at his brother like that.
Then he squints in Jo's direction, making the woman preen; he's not really paying attention to her though (and he's really, really not paying attention to the way she seems to be holding her gun wrong, because that's just gonna make him give her a goddamn lesson on proper firearm care and Sam would call him a motherhen again, the bitch). There's something a little more intersting going on around her, because he's almost positive he can see a smoke outline peeking down her lowcut shirt and another one inching towards her pants, and Sam chokes just as he's raising his eyebrows.
"Uh," his baby brother mutters, "Maybe we should, you know, just leave this hunt to you? You're getting pretty good, I've heard, and you don't need us hanging around, and..."
His brother trails off, because Jo is just clearly not paying attention to him. Dean feels like a plate of meat, which, usually? He's pretty damn okay with, but not when the girl has a mom that is fully capable of kicking his ass.
"You don't have to leave," Jo says. It's pretty clear that she means, "Dean doesn't have to leave. You can go to hell, Sam," so Dean smiles again, the nice, forced one that Sam's informed him makes him look about two seconds away from asking for your babies, and shakes his head.
"We've got another hunt we've been keeping an eye on, sweetheart. This one's all yours."
Jo looks disappointed. Also, two seconds away from dropping her pants and inviting Dean to take her now. He uses the grip he has on Sam's arm to pull his brother away, still smiling at her, and hopes the demons are feeling nice enough to keep them both from running into a wall like idiots.
"Dude." Dean says afterwards, while their trudging to his baby, "Your demons have shitty taste in women."
Sam scratches the back of his head, runs a thumb across his eyebrows. "It wasn't like that man," Sammy finally says, sounding small and vaguely horrified, "They were dividing her up."
"They were what?"
"They. Zaebos wanted to eat her," Sam makes the universal motion for tits and blushes, "And Agares thinks her butt would have bee-- you know what? Nevermind. They liked her."
"Uh-huh. Liked her. Remind me not to let them like me, alright?"
"They don't," Sam says, still blushing and almost, almost stammering. Dean's reminded again of eleven year old Sam-I-Am with his massive crush and grins; he really was adorable back then, all offers to do stuff and happy little sighs when Dean gave in and let him cuddle up to him. "They're kind of. They're a little protective of you, alright, and they didn't like the way Jo was looking at you. They think you're. It's."
Dean flips the collar up on his jacket and stares at his brother. "It's what, Sammy?"
"They think you're my bitch," Sam finally blurts, and looks like he wants to die.
Dean doesn't know whether to start laughing and never stop, or to go grab the holy water and show all those demons just who the bitch is. He settles for the holy water.
Later, when Sam won't look at him, but tells him that the demons are keeping a very, very low profile, he twists his mouth and reaches for his brother. Sam looks a little like he's waiting for a punch, so Dean smirks at him.
"You're the bitch," he mutters. Then he kisses him to prove it.
Yeah, still cute when he's blushing and stammering. Awesome.
This is kind of where it takes a sharp turn. You see, the Devil started writing angst after this, and I have this urge to write fluff, and, really? Both are equally good for me. So. ALTERNATE UNIVERSE PUPPY FIC. Only I don't know which is the alternate. Probably mine.
The Devil's angsty Wincest:
des_pudels_kern wrote:
Sam blinks once, twice, thrice, before Dean notices he's not kissing back.
The demons are cheering him on, and he'd really rather think about that than the fact that his big brother just kissed him! But they are not doing anything right now, at least not anything that requires him to do anything else than blink stupidly, and Dean's standing right in front of him, his expression weirdly blank, but he's clearly expecting him to say something. So he says the first thing that crossed his mind.
"Dude, now who's gay!"
He's still doing the blinking, so he can't be sure, but Dean's face seems to… crumble, and for one horrible moment he thinks Dean looks just like he did in Cold Oak, when he realized that Sam – but he must have been wrong, because of course his jerk of a brother is grinning like the idiot he is and thinks this is just hilarious.
"Ah, had you going there, Sammy!"
"Did not!"
"Did too! Shoulda seen your face, Sam, you were shocked!"
"Just shocked that you're thinking I'd fall for that!"
"Nah, you really thought I'd mean it! No reason to deny it, Sammy, you know it, I know it, and if they've been looking, your pets know it too: I got you!"
And, okay, maybe Dean did get him, but fuck, Dean's grinning at him like that, and he's not gonna admit he's right, he's gonna think about how to swipe that grin of his son of a bitch brother's face.
Of course the demons are still playing dead. Useless bastards.
That thought of course gets them going. (no not useless great powerful dangerous killed the one from the crossroads didn't we and) Okay, he interrupts them, help me out here. The voices die down again to an almost embarrassed (samsammy holy water burns burns so much sammy don't make us please hurts). Useless and spineless.
But he's been swiping grins off Dean's for as long as he can remember, he can handle this without demonic help, thank you very much.
"Dean, when are we meeting Jo?"
Oh, he's good. Some stranger might think he's going for distractive, but he knows this is going right for the kill. Not exactly fair play, but he knows now he'sgot Dean.
And sure enough, Dean swallows, grabs his jacket, and goes for a tactical retreat.
"You know, I think I should go right now and meet her. Things to talk about, you know. Stuff."
Sam can only go back to blinking stupidly as his brother does something he thought he'd never do in Ellen's lifetime, namely taking off to visit Jo in her motel room.
Dean just left to hook up with Jo, complete with that nice, forced smile in place again, and he can't for the life of him figure out what went wrong.
He blinks again.
Wait.
And again.
Did Dean put that smile on before he brought Jo up?!?
des_pudels_kern wrote:
He officially does not understand his brother.
They are sitting in a bar, he, Dean, and Jo. And he feels like the proverbial fifth wheel. Plus he's wondering if his brother's been replaced by a shape shifter again.
Jo's all over Dean. Her hands are everywhere. As are her lips.
Sam takes a swig of his beer.
And Dean lets her.
He just smiles at her, that horrible wrong smile, but of course she doesn't notice that, and touches back. Kisses back.
It's creepy. Scary. And not right.
Sam wants to jump up, shove her away, and just scream Wrong, wrong, wrong! on top of his lungs.
Instead he clenches his hands around his bottle and takes slow, controlled breaths. And a swig every twenty-five breaths.
He didn't need the demons to tell him. He can smell the sex on both of them.
It took all he had to tell the demons no when they offered to (maim her kill hurt dirty bitch ripping off hands make her regret touching general's brother gouge out eyes for looking at him like that make her swallow own tongue for) – another swig of beer. He knows they mean well, but wishes they'd stop offering. Telling them off is getting harder.
He likes Jo, that's not it! But what's happening is plain wrong! Dean would never, not with Jo, except that, obviously, he just did.
Fuck.
It can't be because of what he said about Dean being gay. It can't. He knows Dean's not gay, and Dean knows he knows. Dean's the last one who'd have to prove his sexuality. Especially to Sam, who knows his brother's track record.
He's screwed. Something's wrong with his brother, seriously wrong, and he's got no idea what to do.
He's not possessed, that much the demons could tell him. He's no shape shifter either. And Jo's too much of a hunter to lay a curse on Dean just to get him into her bed, no matter how happy all this makes her.
He's just lifting his bottle when out of nowhere someone grabs his shoulder. Sam jerks back, half glides, half stumbles of the bar stool, and manages to spill his beer in the process, spraying himself and Dean.
His brother lets go of his shoulder once he's steadied, reluctant, as if he's afraid Sam's gonna do something, stumble again, fall, run. He doesn't know, and Dean's face only shows barely recognizable worry.
"You okay, dude?"
It takes him another one or two seconds to realize it was Dean grabbing his shoulder, that he must have called Sam, trying to get his attention, and went for the hands-on approach only when that didn’t work.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I was just…"
Waving his free hand in a way that could mean anything, he trails of.
Dean looks skeptical, but then Jo puts her arm around his waist and her tongue in his mouth and does her best to distract him from his freak of a brother, and Sam's busy listening to the demons and their gory descriptions of what they plan to do to Jo's tongue as soon as Sam lest them.
Sam ignores them and clears his throat, not to interrupt their kiss, but Dean was trying to get his attention for a reason, right? Not even Dean would call him just to have him watch his big brother virtually eat a girl's face off… Okay, Dean would.
But for once Sam's lucky, and Dean looks up.
"Jo and me are gonna go back to the motel. Meet you at the garage at sundown?"
Or not.
"Sure. See you-"
But the happy couple has already turned and to their best to get a ticket for scandalization before getting to their room.
Sam knows that there's something going on right before his eyes he just can't get a hold of. But fuck if he knows what.
He turns back to the bar and orders something harder. Who cares that it's only three in the afternoon? He needs that now.
It takes him three shots to notice the confused demons trying to comfort him.
des_pudels_kern wrote:
Dean takes a step back while Jo opens the door to the motel room. Hers. Doing this in the room he shares with Sammy would have been… Well, he doesn't know if he could live up to her expectations, knowing that the bed next to theirs is his baby brother's, his Sam's.
Jo opens the door and waves him in. She is hot, no doubt about that. And the sex was mind-blowing.
Still, that's it. He likes her, but nothing more. And while he's had more than enough sex with girls he just liked, hell, with girls he didn't even like, just because he felt like it, or wanted something from them, he's not sure hooking up with Ellen's daughter is healthy. Scratch that, he knows it isn't. Ellen's gonna have his hide when she finds out.
But she's kissing him again, and damn, if Ellen knew how good her daughter was at that she'd give him a medal for not doing anything that long!
Jo's unbuttoning his shirt now, muttering things his mind blanks out completely. When she decides it takes too long, she just rips it open, sending buttons flying through the room.
What Dean thinks off while he all but wrestles her out of her top is hw he doesn't even feel bad anymore for using her. He did earlier, when he virtually ran from Sam, afraid his brother would guess what that kiss really meant. But now? He knows he's not really into Jo, and Sam at least picked up on something, even if he doesn't know what.
But Jo doesn't question her good luck. It's as if she doesn't even realize that some time between dawn and noon he took a U-turn. She sure as hell isn't looking.
She's just a convenient fuck for him, the one that happened to be available when he needed to lull Sammy. And he's nothing too different for her. She fucks him to spite her Mom, because he's a hunter and a Winchester and a player. That he's hot probably helps, too.
But what he thought was almost a little girl's crush turned out to be nothing innocent and nice or remotely about love. He figures if he told her the only part of her that'd be hurt would be her pride. So fucking Jo is okay. He's not gonna break her heart, and she won't break his. She can't. Only Sammy can do that.
Already did, too.
Twice.
Once when he left for another life, one without Dean.
And once when he died, leaving Dean behind.
So if Sam wants normal, he'll give him normal. As normal as it can get for them. And that includes no way no bloody hell is he gonna let Sammy know that his feelings for him are not exactly brotherly.
He's not gonna lose him again.
So he's fucking Jo, because he made a mistake and kissed Sam. And he guesses he's one lucky bastard because Sam thought he was playing him. Having Ellen skin him alive is a small price for keeping Sam with him. And one thing Dean's learned early enough is that nothing comes without a price. He's just glad he's not paying for some temporary madness, a.k.a. a kiss, with his brother.
So he rids Jo of her bra, the last piece of clothing she's wearing, and throws her on the bed with a leering grin, only to have her hook a foot behind his leg and make him fall right on top of her.
Time to stop with the emo already and have some fun.
"Excuse me?"
Both of them bolt from the bed, for cover, weapons, cloths. But standing in the door is no demon, just some nervous-looking kid. Has probably never seen a naked woman before, and they were about to show him a fucking porno. Dean's not blushing, but Jo is, which helps Dean to recover his high spirits and his voice.
"Didn't your parents teach you to knock?"
The kid stares at him.
"I have no parents."
That brings Jo in.
"Awww, I'm so sorry. You poor deary! What's wrong? Do you need help? Come in, I got cookies somewhere over there."
And Dean doesn't really mind her asking the boy in, because no way is her gonna fuck her after what she just said. Jo with mother instincts? If he didn't just see it he wouldn't believe it.
He's in his jeans by then, and Jo's trying to get dressed without letting go of the sheet she's wrapped herself in. He thinks he should tell her to do the poor deary a real favour and just drop the sheet when he realizes it. The kid's not looking at her.
He's what? Twelve, thirteen? An age when even Sam would have stared at a naked woman making contortions just across the room. That's when Dean sees it. That flash of black in his eyes.
He's proud he's not diving for the next gun, knife, or salt shaker, because if this is one of Sam's he can't give him away to Jo. Not that he cared for the bastards, but he can't let Jo know about Sam. Fuck, he hopes it's one of Sam's, or they're screwed.
The kid politely declines any offer of cookies, lemonade, and milk (fuck, Jo, milk?!?), sitting fidgety on the rumpled bed. Jo still seems in full motherhen mode and coos over the thing like over a puppy. Or baby. Or anything else tiny and useless. It's minutes of having the demon shoot nervous glances at him, which at least confirms him that one, it is one of Sam's, and second, it isn't just here to interrupt his fun because he stands between them and their precious general.
When he finally gets around to throw the question in, the answer doesn't do much to reassure him though.
"Kid, why'd you come here?"
The demon looks at him almost comically grateful as he babbles.
"Sam's in the bar, and we think he's been drinking a bit too much, and there's this guy, and he should leve, but he won't listen, and we thought it would be best if you came and got him. Right now."
And with that he takes off, probably scared of Jo and her cookies. Dean only grabs his jacket, and it's not his fault Jo was sitting on it and is now toppling to the floor, then he's out of the room, too, heading straight back to the bar, going as fast as he can without drawing unwanted attention.
des_pudels_kern wrote:
He takes the scene in the moment he enters the bar. Sam's leaning against the pool table, cornered by five or six pissed off guys. Leaning, because he's clearly too drunk to even stand straight. Pissed off, because Sammy obviously managed to win the heap of money lying in the middle of the table tight now even though he's too drunk to even stand on his own.
Dean can't help but feel ridiculously proud at that.
The men around Sam seem to do nothing but sprout threads and insults right now, so Dean collects information. Yes, despite what his baby brother thinks – and voices loud and clear every chance he gets - he doesn't storm into a fight unprepared.
He just waits long enough to catch Sam's eye, letting him know he's there, before he turns around to the next onlooker he doesn't recognize from earlier and who shouldn't recognize him in turn, either. Last thing he needs is some idiot brawling if he isn't the guy who had been friendly with the punching bag-to-be not even an hour ago.
His informant, Ken, and the poor bloke even looks like a eunuch, is happy to tell him all that's happened.
Shit.
Sam obviously managed to be a pain-in-the-ass idiot even though he's too drunk to stand on his own.
Dean taught his brother to win at pool. He taught him there's nothing wrong with winning a lot. He sure as hell didn't teach him to insult the loser's masculinity, gall them a bunch of girls, and smack the leader's ass.
And this time he's pretty sure the demons had nothing to do with it. The one in the brat was too scared.
So it looks like his baby brother may be gay, bi, he reminds himself, because Jessica was one helluva woman, after all.
Dean's screwed.
Seeing Sam with girls is okay. He can handle that.
But even thinking about his Sammy with a man, some stranger, he can't… Dean swallows. They were going after this monster cat once, he and Dad. They got it, of course, and without a scratch on either of them. But then it turned out kitty had a girlfriend. The bitch had almost gutted Dean. He vaguely remembers Dad dragging him back to the cars, one of his hands pressed on Dean's stomach, so nothing spilled out. And he remembers the pain.
That's how he feels right now.
He couldn't compete with normal, with a job as a lawyer, a wife, and 1.5 children.
He can live with a dead girlfriend. He knows he's always been second-best to Sam, knows he always would have been.
But he won't be able to compete with this kind of normal either.
He's gonna lose him again, and this time there'll be no tragic death to bring Sam back to him. He doesn't want Sam to have to go through that ever again, no matter what.
But knowing that, knowing that while the ghost of Jess will never let Sam settle down with another woman, he can do just that with some guy, be normal and happy again, leaving Dean alone…
It feels exactly like the cat's claws.
