Burn prt 3
Jul. 17th, 2006 10:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stillroseTitle: Burn prt. 3
Fandom: Supernatural
Prompt:
Warnings: pre-Slash (WILL be slash in later parts), wincest, language, dubious con, bondage
Rating: R-NC17
Summary: Sammy needs to get away from Dean.
Unbetaed- my SO is my beta and he's here only on the weekends. I'll back edit any mistakes pointed out from feedback (hint hint) and from him when he's read this chap.
“I’m sorry Sammy,” Dean whispered and then before Sam could react Dean crossed his wrists in front of Sam’s neck, grabbed the back of his collar and squeezed, cutting off the blood flow in the carotid arteries to Sam’s brain.
Sam had little time to struggle before his blood starved brain lost consciousnesses. Sammy’s eyes seemed to blaze almost entirely green for a moment then rolled back in his head. His limp body collapsed on top of Dean.
Quickly Dean relaxed his chokehold on Sam’s neck. He wanted Sam unconscious, not brain-dead. As swiftly as he could Dean rolled Sam over and stood-up. Dean knew he didn’t have long before Sam would come to again.
Dean surveyed the room again looking at his options for securing his brother. Shoulda known the ropes wouldn’t hold him, Dean chastised himself. The hotel room was old and cheap. Any of the towel racks Sam could just pull right out of the wall and most of the furniture Sam could probably break. Dean looked at the bed. It didn’t have a headboard, but Dean very knew that didn’t mean it couldn’t be used to secure a person to it.
After a quick check to see if Sam was still out and breathing ok, Dean went back to the bed and lifted up the corner of the bedding. Just as he suspected; the mattress was seated in a metal frame. Bambi, Dean thought, where ever you are darling thank you once again for showing me this trick. Dean moved to the front of the bed, got a firm grip on the mattress set and shoved it toward the end of the bed. This left the box-spring resting on just the farthest edge of the lower lip of the bed frame.
Dean started unbuckling his belt and removing it from his jeans. The belt was off before he reached his bag perched on the dresser along the far wall. Dean began to rummage through his bag. With almost a jubilant flourish he pulled out a pair of handcuffs. Any other time Dean might have reflected on how surprisingly handy they were in both impersonating law enforcement and picking up women.
A quick toss sent the belt flying to land on the bed as Dean marched back over to Sam’s still unmoving form. As gently as he could Dean secured the handcuffs around Sam’s wrists. Now comes the fun part, Dean grimaced. Dean bent down over Sam’s body, wrapped his arms under Sam’s shoulders, lifted Sam into a seated position and then finally hefted him up into a fireman’s carry.
“Umph!” Dean grunted. “Little brother no matter what the song says you are definitely heavy.”
Dean shuffled over to the bed and laid Sam down as softly as he could in the middle of the bed. Sam was starting to fidget but he was still unconscious. As quick as it was possible, with out hurting Sam, Dean maneuvered Sam’s body so that his handcuffed hands were at the very edge of the head of the mattress. Then Dean grabbed his belt, ran it under the cuffs, worked it so it was threaded under the metal frame of the bed and then looped it back though buckle. Dean pulled so the belt was as tight as he could make it and buckled the belt completely in the snuggest hole.
Sam would have no way to lift his arms or have enough slack to even sit upright. He could try to buck up with his legs but only the wall was behind the bed so there was no where to go. Sam would even be at an awkward angle to try and get the belt to slide so he could get to the edge of the bed. Dean sighed. It was the best he could right now.
Dean took a moment to look at his brother. Sam was beginning to stir. Dean brushed the hair from Sam’s forehead. Fuck Sammy, what are we going to do?
A sticky wet sensation on Dean’s chest interrupted Dean’s thoughts. He looked down to see blood splats on his shirt. With a start, Dean looked back at Sam franticly to see where he was cut. Clear hazel eyes looked up at him.
“Dude,” Sam whispered, “your nose is bleeding.”
Dean smiled with relief, Sam must have pegged him in the nose during their fight and Dean hadn’t even noticed. “Yeah. Wonder whose fault that is?”
Sam didn’t answer. Instead he tilted his head back to examine the new restraints. Sam tested his bonds by tugging and yanking. He wasn’t getting out of the situation as easily as he had the ropes. Sam looked back at his brother. Dean was trying to mop up the blood dripping from his nose with the back of his hand.
“You should go put some ice on it.”
“Not leaving you, Sammy.”
“It’s Sam.” Then Sam arched a brow. “Well at least go put a cold wet rag on it.”
“Cluck, cluck, cluck,” Dean chuckled.
Sam smiled. He almost felt himself, well except for being tied up on a hotel bed by his big brother. Sam didn’t even want to speculate where Dean had learned this trick. It wasn’t from John Winchester.
“You ok?” Dean asked, still mopping up blood.
“I think. For the moment anyway. Maybe cutting off blood to the brain nixes the hex?”
“Yeah, well I think usually that would be called death.”
Sam wiggled his wrists. “You think while I’m feeling ok you can undo these?”
“Not a chance. I don’t know when you are going to go all horndog on me again.”
Dean mentally kicked himself at Sam’s wince. Dean sighed and moved away from the bed. He stopped and picked up the keys from the floor and shoved them back into his pocket. “Besides, I gotta go put a ‘cold wet rag’ on my nose.”
Sam nodded.
“Look, try and get some rest while you can,” Dean said as he reached the bathroom door. “Or at least think about our options.”
“We don’t have any.”
“Hey!” Dean barked. “I don’t accept that. There are always options.”
Dean locked gazes with Sam until Sam sighed and turned his face away. Then Dean went into the bathroom and shut the door. He turned to look in the mirror.
“Please, God,” Dean whispered. “Let there be options.”
Dean moved over to the sink and stripped off his blood spattered shirt letting it fall to the floor. Next Dean grabbed a wash cloth, turned on the cold water, soaked the rag, wrung it out and then wiped the blood from his face. Once again he ran the rag under the water. Pink water swirled down the drain. Dean wrung the cloth out again, turned off the water and held the cold rag to his nose.
He knew he should go out and check on Sammy but the adrenaline rush was starting to give out and Dean began to feel the pain from fighting with Sam; emotional and physical. Dean slid down to the floor and shifted so his back was against the bathtub. Dean tilted his head and let the blood from his nose drip down the back of his throat.
This latest run of bad luck for the
There wasn’t much remarkable about Greenbrier. Median income was $26, 927 and median age was 41. Sam had looked it up. The biggest thing going for the folks in Greenbrier, besides farming, was tourism. They had the Greenbrier County Convention and Visitor’s Bureau “for all your vacation needs,” the Greenbrier Resort, and the Durbin & Greenbrier Valley Railroad. The most remarkable thing for the Winchesters had been Sam accidentally cutting his thumb while paying for gas at the local Chug and Go.
Still, there had been a disturbing pattern of men who had visited the area disappearing anywhere from seven to ten days after leaving. So the brothers had gone and booked a room in
At first they were hitting dead end after dead end. None of the men seemed to have anything in common. They didn’t stay at the same places, visit the same places, come from similar backgrounds and weren’t even the same ages.
“There’s nothing!” Sam had groused on their fifth evening. “I’ve been going through every newspaper clipping, Google result and Dad’s journal and nothing! I need a drink.”
That should have been Dean’s first clue something was wrong.
“Come one Sam, there’s always something.” Dean had soothed.
“I think we are chasing…well shadows or something. People disappear all the time.”
“Yeah but Sam, fifteen disappearances in the last three years, approximately a week after they visited po-dunk
Sam had flipped John Winchester’s journal shut and rubbed his eyes.
“Ok,” Sam had conceded. “Yeah. I’m just frustrated. Maybe I just need to get out for a bit.”
Dean had grinned. He too had felt claustrophobic in their latest hotel room. It was so shabby that the phrase “better days” had had no meaning there. Still it had met the
“Then by all means little brother, let’s go out,” Dean had all but purred. There was always one beauty in every honky-tonk bar and he’d thought it was his chance to find Rainelle’s.
Sam had laughed and agreed. The night passed pleasantly enough. Dean had been right; there was a beauty. Only he missed his chance because Sam moved in on her! Dean had stood with his mouth literally hanging open when, as soon as they entered the bar, his brother turned into someone he hadn’t recognized. It was as if Sam had been studying Dean’s moves and that night was qualifying exams. Soon the little Rainelle bloom had been ready to follow Sam any where.
Dean had been set to sleep in the Impala when the second surprise of the night happened; the old Sam came back.
“Dean, let’s go,” Sam had come over to Dean with a look of desperation in his eyes.
“What?”
“Let’s go. Let’s get out of here.”
“What about…” Dean had pointed to the blonde by the bar still smiling and looking Sam’s way.
“It’s a mistake.”
“Oh yeah,” Dean had grinned. “My favorite kind of mistake!”
“Dean!”
Dean had focused back on Sam. His brother was sweating and looked nervous.
“What’s wrong Sam?”
“I just. I have to go. This isn’t right.”
“Is this about Jess?” Dean couldn’t help but ask.
“No! Yes! I don’t know! Look I’m going!” Then Sam had stormed out. Dean had quickly thrown a twenty down on the table to cover his beers and had followed his brother.
“Sam!” Dean had shouted once they were outside. “Ok. We’ll go back to the hotel.”
Sam had paused before getting in the Impala, nodded and then got in the car. The trip back had mostly been silent.
“I don’t know what happened,” Sam had broken the silence first. “I got in there, I saw her and I just wanted. You know?”
Dean had nodded. He hadn’t risked talking in fear Sam would stop.
“But then later I realized it wasn’t her I wanted.”
Dean had frowned.
“Who did you want?” Dean had taken a chance.
“I don’t know,” Sam had bleated.
“Excuse me?”
“I don’t know. It wasn’t Jess. It wasn’t Mandy, the blonde. I…I want someone else.”
Dean had briefly looked away from the road to look at Sam. He was still sweaty and nervous looking.
“Sam, are you ok?”
“I still want Dean.”
“Ooook. Do you want to go some where else? Maybe look for a redhead?”
“No!” Sam had shouted and looked at his brother. “You’re not listening. I want somebody…but a specific somebody. Somebody I don’t know.”
That’s when the first chill had gone gone down Dean’s spine. Something, their kind of something, was wrong with Sam.
“How ba…”
“Don’t ask,” Sam had interrupted. “Just give me some alone time when we get back to the hotel room.”
Dean had given Sam the alone time; a whole hour’s worth of alone time. When he had finally gone into the room; Sam was in bed trying to pretend he was asleep. Dean hadn’t interrupted his brother’s pretense and went to bed. The next morning Dean had woken to find Sam gone. In a panic Dean had rushed out of the hotel room. He’d spotted Sam walking up the road. He had jogged to catch up to him.
“Bro, where you going?” Dean had asked gently.
“To find her,” Sam had responded in a dead voice.
“To find who, Sammy?
“HER.”
Dean had grabbed Sam’s arm then and forced his brother to stop.
“Sam!”
Sam had blinked a few moments then looked at Dean with wide eyes.
“Dean, what’s going on?”
“I’d hoped you could tell me little brother. I wake up and find you out wandering the streets looking for your mystery hook-up.”
Sam had groaned. “Dean it’s getting worse.”
Dean had frowned. “Need more alone time?”
“Doesn’t help,” Sam had blushed.
“Well look, I don’t think running after this woman is good right now either. Let’s go back to the hotel, grab dad’s journal and then head to the local diner for breakfast. Maybe a strong cup of coffee and a mass of grits will…well at least not hurt any.”
Sam had smiled. At the local diner had been where they had met Granny Mitchum and Granny Mitchum had known what was going on with Sam.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-07-19 05:14 am (UTC)thank you!
Date: 2006-07-19 12:55 pm (UTC)sr
Re: thank you!
Date: 2006-07-19 05:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-19 06:48 pm (UTC)This gave me a serious case of the giggles. You've really got Dean's voice down.
If you need a backup beta, let me know. I'd be more than happy to give it a quick read through for grammar, spelling, etc.
Wow..thanks
Date: 2006-07-19 07:03 pm (UTC)I may certainly take you up on being a back-up beta. Grammar is my definite weak spot. I'm hoping to get the next piece done tonight. I'll friend you and put the post up friends only to give you an initial pass then post it public in the morning. That work?
sr
Re: Wow..thanks
Date: 2006-07-19 09:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-28 05:32 pm (UTC)Dean locked gazes with Sam until Sam sighed and turned his face away. Then Dean went into the bathroom and shut the door. He turned to look in the mirror.
"Please, God," Dean whispered. "Let there be options." I love this bit, where he's strong for his brother, but Dean's too much of a realist to expect easy answers
Thank you!
Date: 2006-07-28 06:21 pm (UTC)I hope you continue reading. Feel free to let me know what you think. :)
sr
no subject
Date: 2007-08-19 02:30 am (UTC)lmao. I love the way Dean's brain works.
Interesting to see the way it began. I can't wait to see what will happen before the end.
thank you
Date: 2007-08-20 10:42 pm (UTC)LOL
sr
Re: thank you
Date: 2007-08-21 04:08 am (UTC)