Blood Is Thicker...
folder
Supernatural › General
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
5
Views:
1,526
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Supernatural › General
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
5
Views:
1,526
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do NOT own anything related to SPN nor do I make money from my stories. It's pure entertainment, people! Oh but if I had those guys for just one day....anyway, like or dislike?
Day Three (Salvation)
It was likely the next afternoon before Dean ever opened his eyes, only to see that Sam was still laying in almost the same spot he'd been before. He hadn't gotten up, hadn't even tried to escape, not that he could. He never heard those chains rattle once. Had he been that tired and didn't realize it? Dean got up and trudged over to the bed, taking a seat on the other side beside Sam. He felt light-headed for one of the few times in his life and knew it was from the sudden loss of blood. It wasn't something that hadn't happened before but then again, he'd never had anyone actually drink from him before either. Sam was like a guy obsesssed and this time, Dean really couldn't complain. It meant that the reverse spell was working, along with everything else he had planned.
Dean found himself staring down into Sam's sleeping face, noticing the healthy flush of his cheeks, the way his breath had evened out instead of being so rushed and erratic as before. His skin felt warm to the touch but enough that it reminded Dean of the way his brother's skin felt before. He was no longer pale and drawn, his eyes weren't sunken and the rest of his features appeared more relaxed than they'd been in years. Since before Jessica's death and that was saying a whole hell of alot. It was like he sat there and watched his brother's innocence returning. His plan was working. Dean blinked back the tears that came out of nowhere, just in time to glance back down and see Sam's gaze locked on him.
"Dean, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice sounding stronger and yet, still tired as hell. "Nothing, Sammy," Dean replied, shrugging it off casually. "What time is it?" Sam asked again and Dean told him once he glanced down at his watch. A ghost of a grin shone on his face as he reminded Sam of something he already knew. "Just two more hours." For the first time since Sam walked into that hotel room three days ago, his ashen grin mirrored that of his older brother. "One more time, huh?" Sam's voice rasped as Dean stood from the bed and nodded his response.
His entire body went rigid the instant the silver knife was snatched from him and he could have bolted but it was too late. Dean growled in pain as the blade sliced deep through the flesh of his upper arm. "Jesus Christ, Sammy!" he shouted and made a disgusted face as the knife fell to the floor with a dull sound. The dark, cherry red color of his blood poured down his arm this time and Dean sneered, looking away the moment Sam's mouth sought the treasure he brought out of those pulsing veins. The lifeblood that was now beating through his own heart, that Winchester blood that flowed through his whole body. Blood that had been touched by an Angel, taking ten years off Dean's own life in the process. Neutralizing the demonic power of that which Sam Winchester never once asked for, never wanted in his entire life. Sam could feel it, could feel the beat of his brother's heart with every swallow of that rich, coppery blood that flowed endlessly across his tongue and right down into his own heart. Both hands locked on Dean's arm and when he tried to pull away, Sam groaned and held even tighter.
By the time Sam's body crumbled back against the bed, the iron shackles had been loosened by Dean and had fallen away from his scarring wrists. Dean now lay beside Sam, breathless and gasping, his breath harsh. If he felt light-headed before, he could barely open his eyes now. The strength he'd been holding inside had disappeared in that last drop down Sammy's throat and Dean's hand clung loosely to the injury that bled profusely through his fingers. "Oh my God, Dean!" Sam stood up quickly, rushed over to his duffel and brought back a white box. He sat up, not knowing he'd walked right out of the Devil's Trap to get it, and began tending Dean's arm. Dark, emerald eyes fluttered open and Dean stifled a yawn, feeling his mind fading. Still, he looked up at Sammy's intense expression and smiled, a soft laugh coming from somewhere. Now, all Dean had left to do was to kill that demon bitch, Ruby, once and for all! Sam stopped, the bandage halfway wrapped over his older brother's arm. "What?" Sam asked, seemingly having forgotten most of what happened over the course of time just from seeing that look on his older brother's face. "Nothing," Dean murmured, his brow having furrowed deep at the cinch tight around his wound. "Dean...about what just happened..." Sam began and Dean held up his free hand, cut him off with a sleepy grin that lasted all of about five seconds. "Hey...no chic flick moments, dude." Sam's quiet laugh was heard as Dean closed his eyes. "Alright...jerk." Dean felt himself drifting off, there in the more than capable hands of his little pain in the ass brother tending him. "Bitch."
Sam laughed. Dean snored.
~Fin~
(To be continued?)
Dean found himself staring down into Sam's sleeping face, noticing the healthy flush of his cheeks, the way his breath had evened out instead of being so rushed and erratic as before. His skin felt warm to the touch but enough that it reminded Dean of the way his brother's skin felt before. He was no longer pale and drawn, his eyes weren't sunken and the rest of his features appeared more relaxed than they'd been in years. Since before Jessica's death and that was saying a whole hell of alot. It was like he sat there and watched his brother's innocence returning. His plan was working. Dean blinked back the tears that came out of nowhere, just in time to glance back down and see Sam's gaze locked on him.
"Dean, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice sounding stronger and yet, still tired as hell. "Nothing, Sammy," Dean replied, shrugging it off casually. "What time is it?" Sam asked again and Dean told him once he glanced down at his watch. A ghost of a grin shone on his face as he reminded Sam of something he already knew. "Just two more hours." For the first time since Sam walked into that hotel room three days ago, his ashen grin mirrored that of his older brother. "One more time, huh?" Sam's voice rasped as Dean stood from the bed and nodded his response.
His entire body went rigid the instant the silver knife was snatched from him and he could have bolted but it was too late. Dean growled in pain as the blade sliced deep through the flesh of his upper arm. "Jesus Christ, Sammy!" he shouted and made a disgusted face as the knife fell to the floor with a dull sound. The dark, cherry red color of his blood poured down his arm this time and Dean sneered, looking away the moment Sam's mouth sought the treasure he brought out of those pulsing veins. The lifeblood that was now beating through his own heart, that Winchester blood that flowed through his whole body. Blood that had been touched by an Angel, taking ten years off Dean's own life in the process. Neutralizing the demonic power of that which Sam Winchester never once asked for, never wanted in his entire life. Sam could feel it, could feel the beat of his brother's heart with every swallow of that rich, coppery blood that flowed endlessly across his tongue and right down into his own heart. Both hands locked on Dean's arm and when he tried to pull away, Sam groaned and held even tighter.
By the time Sam's body crumbled back against the bed, the iron shackles had been loosened by Dean and had fallen away from his scarring wrists. Dean now lay beside Sam, breathless and gasping, his breath harsh. If he felt light-headed before, he could barely open his eyes now. The strength he'd been holding inside had disappeared in that last drop down Sammy's throat and Dean's hand clung loosely to the injury that bled profusely through his fingers. "Oh my God, Dean!" Sam stood up quickly, rushed over to his duffel and brought back a white box. He sat up, not knowing he'd walked right out of the Devil's Trap to get it, and began tending Dean's arm. Dark, emerald eyes fluttered open and Dean stifled a yawn, feeling his mind fading. Still, he looked up at Sammy's intense expression and smiled, a soft laugh coming from somewhere. Now, all Dean had left to do was to kill that demon bitch, Ruby, once and for all! Sam stopped, the bandage halfway wrapped over his older brother's arm. "What?" Sam asked, seemingly having forgotten most of what happened over the course of time just from seeing that look on his older brother's face. "Nothing," Dean murmured, his brow having furrowed deep at the cinch tight around his wound. "Dean...about what just happened..." Sam began and Dean held up his free hand, cut him off with a sleepy grin that lasted all of about five seconds. "Hey...no chic flick moments, dude." Sam's quiet laugh was heard as Dean closed his eyes. "Alright...jerk." Dean felt himself drifting off, there in the more than capable hands of his little pain in the ass brother tending him. "Bitch."
Sam laughed. Dean snored.
~Fin~
(To be continued?)