Rock Me

Warning: Rape, Angst, Slash, Past child abuse, H/C, Non-con, Torture

Disclaimer: I don't own them and I don't make any money off of writing this stuff. I do it for the people who enjoy reading them.

Rating: NC-17

Spoilers: Up to and including Asylum

Dean sat on the bed in the Bellevue hotel room and stared out the window. As the last rays of of the sun disappeared into the darkness he took a deep breath and felt as if it was his first.

He heard the shower start and turned around to look at the door. His brother was beyond that door. His life and his reason for being in this forsaken town.

As the shower started he stood and walked to the door slowly, trying to remember each step that brought him closer to Sam. He reached out and touched the door, leaning his forehead against it. "Sam..."

His whispered plea fell on deaf ears as Sam let the water run over him, watching it circle around the drain before getting sucked down into the sewers to be waded through by numerous freaks, demons, and spectres.

Sam began to consider his father's words and frowned. How could he ask me if I wanted to have sex with my own brother? I mean...he's my brother... Thoughts and memories seemed to converge into one afternoon when he was seventeen.

Dean was helping their father fix the car. Dean had pulled his shirt off and had it haphazardly tucked into the back pocket of his jeans. Sam was told to just keep out of the way.

John hadn't wanted the distraction and Dean had wanted to spare Sam the insensitive comments that John was sure to make if Sam handed them the wrong tool.

Sam walked out of the room they were sharing and stopped dead in his tracks. He'd gone swimming with Dean. He'd wrestled with Dean. He'd shared a bed with Dean and, when they were very young, a bathtub.

But this was different. He'd walked out to see Dean bending over to examine some various car part and the muscles in his back had rippled just enough to make the sweat glisten in the sun. Sam felt that everything had moved in slow motion and his mouth fell open just enough to allow his breath to escape in a mad dash to escape the heat spreading throughout his body.

His blood rushed in his ears and to his groin and the burning he suddenly felt wasn't from the sunlight at all. He thought the moment couldn't get any more surreal, but then Dean had stood up and caught Sam staring at him. He tilted his head to the side as if trying to figure out what was going on in Sam's mind and then smiled softly, but with a sadness that reflected in his eyes.

Sam hated seeing the grief there and closed his mouth, bringing his lips up into a patented Winchester smirk.

Dean responded by gracing Sam with a brilliant smile that chased the depression away from his eyes and lit them up.

Sam turned away then, knowing that the sight was causing him a physical pain. He couldn't explain it and he thought if he could he might not want to know the reasons.

He sent in his college application the next day.

Sam was startled out of his memories and finished rinsing the shampoo out of his hair. At that moment he understood so much and it felt right. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist, not caring about dripping water all over the floor. He threw open the bathroom door and ran out into the main room. "Dean!"

His hands dropped to his sides, the towel sliding down his legs from the weight of the water as Sam felt an overwhelming emptiness envelop him. The room was empty. Dean was gone.

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Dean had to admit that it was hard to leave his car, but if Sam was right, he wouldn't need it much longer.

He paid the cab driver once he let him out at a run down home on the outskirts of Omaha.

The house was large, but the roof was sagging under the weight of too many rainstorms.

The barn in the distance was no more than a few support beams with some dead boards leaning against them.

The siding on the house may have been green at one time or that may have just been the affect of the mold that had crusted up after so many years of neglect.

He looked around, happy that his host hadn't arrived yet and pulled out his key. He stood in front of the door for at least fifteen minutes, letting his mind do what it did every year at this time...just think of Sam. He turned away and sucked in a deep breath of air, wondering if it was the last clean air he'd ever experience before turning back again and unlocking the rotting door, walking inside.

Every year it was the same, but every year it took him by surprise. The door opened to reveal a beautiful showplace that any interior decorator would have applauded.

The deep mahogany wood floors shone in the light from the fire in the stone fireplace at the other end of the room. Red and cream colored carpets were lying on the floors as if they had been thrown there carelessly, but the trained eye could see that everything was specifically arranged. Curved back victorian couches and chairs made up a seating area and Dean sat down, waiting. It would only be a matter of hours and he wanted to spend the time looking into the flames and seeing Sam's face.

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Sam knew there was something wrong when he looked out the window and saw the car parked outside. He nearly cried aloud when he saw Dean's keys laying on the nightstand. He tried to force his breathing to slow and pulled on his clothes. He grabbed the keys and ran out to the car, taking all of their things with them. He had no intention of returning without his brother if he could help it. Not after his recent discovery. He couldn't fathom how he had been so stupid for so long.

Jess would have teased him for this. She accused him of taking too long for things to sink in and by the time they did, it was too late.

Sam shook away the thought of the nightmares that had foretold his girlfriend's death. I'm always too late...not this time. Please not this time.

As soon as he got into the driver's seat he knew there was something wrong. The hands around his throat only confirmed it.

"Sam....You're such a handsome boy."

The voice was human, but there was something evil underlying it. It sounded like something out of a horror movie and Sam struggled fiercely.

"Stop if you want to see Dean." That caused Sam's eyes to open wide and he stopped struggling. "Now, it's been a lot of years since I gave you up. I knew you'd come back to me. I told John you'd get tired of Dean one day and it finally happened."

Sam groaned. He never wanted to hurt his brother. Obviously this is what John had meant when he said that he didn't think the day would ever happen, but there were no grey areas. He had tried to kill Dean and this thing in the car with him only saw things in black and white.

He drove where the man told him to and frowned at the sight of the house in front of him. He began to wonder if this guy had just gotten to Dean already and now it was Sam's turn. The person got out of the car and walked to the house, not bothering to bring Sam with him. He just left him in the car and went inside.

Sam raised an eyebrow, figuring this was the most botched kidnapping he'd ever been a party to. His eyes fell to the keys still in the ignition. He was about to leave and find Dean on his own when he got a strong vision. Having one like this while awake was new and he gave into it. He only saw Dean pleading with him. "Don't leave me."

Somehow he knew that Dean was in the house at that moment. He didn't know how, but he had a feeling that he had to get inside that house. He looked at his watch. It was ten o'clock at night. In two hours it would be December 1st. Shit, Dean...what's going on?

Again time and memory shifted.

"Shit, Dean...what's going on?"

"Don't worry about it. I just have to go somewhere. Stay with dad. I'll be back in a couple days."

"You pull this crap every year. What the hell do you do?"

"I just need some time to myself, alright? Back off, Sammy." He shoved his younger brother away and got into the cab that had arrived. He never looked back.

Sam remembered this happening every year and every year Dean would totally withdraw from him for at least a month. Then he acted like nothing had ever happened. Why didn't I put this together before? One week after Thanksgiving...

He got out of the car and popped the trunk. He loaded up on weapons and walked toward the house with his flashlight. With his headlights off he couldn't see his hand right in front of his face without the help. He stepped up on the porch and the wood creaked and he found himself thrown back into another memory.

Sam was eleven and loved to stay up as late as his older brother, but that rarely happened. But this was different. He knew that Dean was up much later than usual and his father wasn't yelling at all. They had a friend who let them use his condo in Council Bluffs, a town in Iowa right near the Nebraska border. Sam snuck downstairs and listened outside the kitchen door.

"Dad, please...I can't. I can't do this again. Please..." Dean began to cry, his young fifteen year old mind obviously weighed down by something that no adult should have to endure.

"Dean, you know what's at stake. I don't want this for you, but..."

"No, I understand. I agreed to this. It's fine. I knew the risks."

John stood up angrily. "Dammit, Dean. It wasn't fair....you were five fucking years old when you were forced to decide something that would put you in this position. You were too young, but I couldn't lose you or Sam to..."

"Dad! It's fine. I get through it, don't I?"

"Maybe one day...maybe Sammy will come through for you like you're doing for him, right?"

"Yeah, dad. Right."

"You don't think he'll do that for you?"

"I won't let him. I'll die first."

"Don't say that. Look, what if Sam...what if he hurts you and-"

"No, dad. Sammy would never hurt me."

Sam tried to see into the room and the board creaked, giving him away.

Sam flinched at the memory. He had not only hurt his brother, he had tried to kill him. He tried to save the self loathing for a time when it would be useful.

When he walked into the house he sighed. The place was seriously in need of repair. The flashlight showed him cobwebs and sheet covered furniture along with so much dust that he could hardly breathe.

"Come in..."

Sam turned quickly and aimed his shotgun, but was disarmed so fast that he didn't even remember the struggle that ensued. He found himself on the floor with a figure over him. "Don't fight this, Sam. You're here for a reason. You finally took the steps to be just like Dean. You embraced that anger that Dean's always had and you've earned an invitation to this beautiful moment."

Everything around Sam changed in the blink of an eye. He was now lying on a red colored rug that was thick and invited someone to just fall asleep. He stood and saw Dean sitting on one of the couches. He quietly moved to sit next to him. Dean was staring into the flames and sighed as a tear fell from his eye.

Sam reached out and wiped it away, earning a gasp from his brother. Dean turned and looked at him. It took a moment for the shock to wear off and then he smiled. "Dad was right. It just might end finally." He leaned in and hugged Sam tight. "I need you to do something for me, Sammy."

"Anything, Dean."

"Blow my head off."

TBC...