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Sam didn’t waste time wallowing in his feelings of jealousy, and he didn’t want to take a chance that Castiel would try to help, so he sobered up and made his way to Portage, Wisconsin. Working with the sheriff one of the few times it didn’t end up a pissing contest because the local cops didn’t want to work with the FBI.

As a matter of fact, the sheriff was proud to show what his tech boys could do and queued up the video of a man they were calling porn guy and Drew Nealy.

Sam couldn’t believe his eyes when porn guy turned out to be Dean, but with that description, he should have known. Despite whatever happened one ting hadn’t changed, and Dean was leafing through the latest edition of Busty Asian Omegas.

As he stood behind the sheriff, Sam tried not to let his excitement of seeing Dean show, but man it was hard, and so was his dick. He was surprised that the sheriff couldn’t smell his arousal, but being a beta, his sense of smell wasn’t that strong.

Watching the video, Sam noticed that the way Nealy walked into the store with his blade drawn, he knew Dean was there in the store, it was as though he’d been tipped off. As a follower of Abaddon, Nealy wanted to be the one to kill Dean, but he had help locating him, and Sam could only think of one person who had that information, Crowley.

All of the transgressions from Crowley and his crew were forgotten as Dean turned to the demon, Sam saw something that couldn’t- that he hoped like hell wasn’t true. Asking for some time alone with the video, Sam rewound the video and found what he hoped was an issue with the camera, Dean’s eyes were black.

His brother was a demon.

As fast as he could without embarrassing himself, Sam left the sheriff’s department and drove to the motel he’d set up shop in for the duration of th investigation. He’d barely made it inside the door before the tears began to fall. He had stopped grieving when he found Dean’s note, but now he had to start the process all over again, except this time was worse.

This time Dean was dead and Crowley was using his brother’s body as a meat suit for some evil thing to possess and Sam was going to have to kill- fuck it will be effectively killing Dean all over again. So much for the anti-possession tattoos, guess they don’t work after you’re dead.

This time Dean was dead, and Crowley was using his brother’s body as a meat suit for some evil thing and Sam was going to have to kill- fuck it will be effectively killing Dean all over again.

Knowing that he was going to have to kill his brother, or rather the demon wearing him filled him with sorrow and hurt, but once he took care of him, Crowley was next. Over the years he’d let Dean or the situation keep him from killing the bastard, but Dean wasn’t here, and there was no reason to keep the fucker around.

There would be someone to rise and take Crowley place, but that was a problem for another day, right now it was Dean’s body and memory he needed to take care of before he hunted the King of Hell down.

Right now, he needed to mourn his brother. Again.

Sam wasn’t the only person who was going to mourn Dean and even though he was jealous of the connection Dean had with the angel, Sam called Cas and informed him of his findings. As he waited for Castiel to answer, Sam knew that sharing Dean’s death with someone was the only reason he called Castiel because he didn’t want to bear this loss alone.

It was dumb luck that let him find Dean, or rather Crowley. Drew Nealy’s phone was left behind in the convenience store, and the clerk passed it on to Sam. The first number in the recent call list belonged to Crowley, and that’s where Sam learned the truth, Dean wasn’t possessed by a demon, Dean was a demon, and Sam’s not sure which was worse.

If it came down to it, making another goddamned deal with the devil might top the list, but apparently because of the Mark of Cain Dean bore, Crowley was unable to control Dean and losing face with his underlings.

To get Dean out of his hair, Crowley struck a bargain, Dean for the First Blade that made Dean unstoppable even to Crowley, so Sam headed to North Dakota to bring his brother home. There was no way he was going to deal with the MOC and Dean being a demon, but he had a cure for the demon, he just had to get Dean back to the bunker.

Before he died, Dean had said that he was proud of them, but after some of the things, Sam had done to find Dean. He hoped that was still true.

Of course, their fucking past, or rather Dean’s caught up with him. Sam had been so concentrated on getting to Dean that he let some yahoo put a kill switch on his car. Why does shit like this keep happening to them? He’s sure that for all he and Dean have done for the world they deserve a break now and then, but they just can’t seem to catch a break.

On top of Dean returning from the dead, the kid of some monster Dean ganked over a decade ago is back for revenge and is using Sam to get to Dean.

That’s not going to happen, if Sam doesn’t manage to get himself free, he was sure that Dean would come to his rescue. That theory was shot down when Dean told his kidnapper, Cole, that he didn’t care one way or another, but he’d kill him when their paths crossed.

What kind of fucked up shit is that?

If there was anything in this world Sam had been able to depend on was Dean risking life and limb to make sure Sam was safe, but this incarnation of his brother didn’t seem to give two actual fucks. That meant that with his one good arm, Sam was going to have to find a way to free himself before this moron killed him before he found Dean.

There was no MoC branded into his skin to ensure that he’d come back to life, so Sam had to be certain that he didn’t die. When he freed himself, he was going after his brother and if he missed Dean, then bad arm or not he was going to hunt down Cole and kill him for the hell of it.

Luckily for Cole, Sam managed to escape and catch up with Dean and Crowley. The place was called the Black Spur in Beulah, North Dakota. Sam’s not sure what the attraction was because Dean hated cold weather, perhaps it was an omega who kept Dean there. Oh fuck, what if Dean has mated with some unknown Omega, but his wolf snarled and told him that hadn’t happened.

Sam’s not sure how his wolf knew, but he believed his spirit animal.

When Sam walked into the dive -he refused to call it a bar- he wasn’t sure if he could trust Crowley, that this wasn’t an ambush. The bastard had been the one to trick Dean into taking the MOC without explaining what it meant to bear the brand. But what pissed Sam off the most was Crowley had stolen Dean’s body.

That’s the only explanation for Dean leaving him voluntarily. Yeah Crowley said that that it was Dean and not just his meat suit, but Sam still wasn’t convinced.

The only reason Crowley was telling Sam where to locate his brother was that he couldn’t control Dean as he did his other demons. Sam smiled at that. The only man’s whose orders Dean had followed blindly was their father's, but he’d even sided against their dad and sided with Sam, but he wasn’t sure about this Dean.

This Dean walked out on him and went road tripping with Crowley.

He wasn’t sure of all Dean had done, but it was enough to make the King of Hell nearly piss himself, so Sam was a little wary.

It was still good to see his brother.

It was easy to find his brother in the dark room, the bartender was setting up for the night’s service, so he and Dean were the only ones in the room. Seeing his brother after weeks of searching, Sam stood still just inside the doorway to gather his thoughts and get his emotions under control.

His wolf was clawing just under the surface, demanding to be let out and end this farce and claim Dean and make him theirs. Sam wanted that too, but he had to get him back to the bunker first.

From across the room, Sam drank in the familiar sight. Those broad shoulders, the thick arms and an ass so perfect it made Sam’s mouth water. Dean was sitting at a piano playing with the keys as he observed his brother. Even if he was a demon, he appeared relaxed; Sam figured that if Dean had no soul, then he had no worries.

He wasn’t wearing the multi layers with a jacket armed to the teeth with weapons at the ready, no he had on a t-shirt, jeans and an open red and blue flannel shirt. He was smiling as he toyed with the instrument and seemed unaware of his surroundings.

The smile took his breath away. It wasn’t often that Dean smiled like that and it was a beautiful thing to behold, and Sam wanted to be the one to put a smile like that on his mate’s face.

"Hiya, Sam,” Dean greeted without looking up.

Dean’s fingers played a tune that he thought that he’d forgotten a long time ago. He’d learned it from a pretty little Beta who gave him her virginity while they were stuck in some Podunk town in Oregon. It’s funny he can’t remember her name, but whenever he has the time to sit behind a piano, he can play the song.

He didn’t hear the door open, but Dean was aware when Sammy walked in because the familiar scent of his brother stirred his wolf like nothing had in weeks. He was clawing and howling that Sammy was here and he needed to make him theirs.

Years of practice made it easy for Dean to ignore his wolf’s demands, besides he had another desire clawing at him that was too strong to ignore.

Still not looking up from the piano, Dean ordered the bar tender to leave, “Hey Harve, you wanna take a break.” He’d been renting a room above the bar for the past two weeks, and he’d earned a reputation for violence, so Harvey took the leave rather than a beating.
“What are you doing here Sam?” Dean asked caressing the piano keys once more before standing and heading to the bar.

Dean wasn’t stupid; he knew the reason Sam was here. If the roles had been reversed, he would be doing the same, but with less puppy dog eyes and a little more force. Those fucking eyes were the reason he didn’t look at his brother when he walked in.

Those damned things could have you confessing every sin you ever committed, and he wasn’t ready to do that. Reaching for the tequila, Dean poured a glass and waited for Sam to answer.

Concentrating on the burn of the alcohol while he waited for Sam’s answer, Dean wondered how Sam timed his arrival. After an argument with Crowley about an hour ago, Sam had been on Dean’s mind. Dean had supposed to have killed a woman as a part of a bargain for a soul, but the woman’s husband pissed him off so much he killed the man.

Crowley bitched about losing the deal, but there was a change of guard in the White House, so Dean was positive business would be booming.

As he drained the glass and was in the process of pouring another drink, he noticed that Sam’s arm was in a sling. Sam wasn’t like Dean to rush in guns blazing, so when he got hurt, it was from hand to hand, so the busted arm threw Dean a little.

Pissed him off a little that someone had hurt his brother, and if it was that bastard who threatened to kill Sam, well this was just another reason to gut him.

“Who winged you?” he asked Sam with a mild curiosity.

“Does it matter?” Sam asked with a pissy face and a heavy sigh letting Dean know that he wanted to go back to the reason they were doing a standoff in a dive in the middle of nowhere.

“Not really,” Dean shrugged before reminding his brother, “I told you to let me go.”

He smiled as he took in the pissy face Sam was wearing. He might look pissed, but experience taught Dean that Sam was nervous. The look made him want to offer him a drink, but he knew that the younger man wouldn’t accept it.

“Dean, you don’t have to do this,” Sam pleaded, “Crowley sold you out but we know how to cure demons, you remember that right? We can cure you and then you can get your revenge on Crowley.”

Did Sam think that because he was a demon that he was stupid now? He’d helped with that blood ritual so he knew that it could cure him, but he didn't want to be cured. He liked himself just as he was. There was no guilt about right or wrong, just live and Dean was okay with that.

“A little Latin, a lot of blood? Sure, it rings a bell. Did you ever stop to think that if I wanted to be cured, I wouldn't have bailed?”

Just before Sam marched through the door like an avenging angel, Dean wondered about how much humanity was left in him. His argument with Crowley bought the thought to the forefront. He had used the First Blade and cut his hand down to the bone, and it healed before he could put the blade down.

Funny that was the thing to convince him that he wasn’t human any longer.

Now he watched detached from any emotions as Sam struggled with what he’d just said. He and Sam were closer than most brothers. They were close in an I wanna fuck the taste out of your mouth kind of way, but neither would give in because neither wanted to lose their knot.

“It doesn't matter, alright? 'Cause whatever went down, whatever happened, we will fix it together, Dean.” Sam pleaded using the puppy dog eyes. God, how had Dean survived unprotected against those things?

“Will we? Because right now, I'm doing all I can not to come over there and rip your throat out... with my teeth or if you prefer I can fuck you and make that a claim mark.” He heard Sam suck on a lungful of air at the mentioning of them fucking and a not so subtle scenting of the air told Dean that the thought of them bumping uglies aroused his brother. “I'm giving you a chance, Sam and I suggest you take it.”

Of course, he wasn’t going to make this easy for either of them, and the look on his face became pissier, letting Dean know that Sam was digging in and preparing himself for a fight. Fighting, fucking either was okay as far as Dean was concerned, so he decided to taunt Sam.

“Well, I'm not walking out that door with you, Sam I'm just not. So, what are you gonna do? Are you gonna kill me?”


Dean toyed with him, “Why? You don't know what I've done. I might have it coming.”

“Well, I don't care because you’re my brother, and I'm here to take you home.”

“Aaah!” Dean mocked, “You're my brother, and I'm here to take you home yeah, what is this, a Lifetime movie? Huh? With your puppy-dog eyes?” Dean laughed and continued, “Oh, thanks, Sammy. I needed that.”

The laughter stopped when Sam pulled out a pair of handcuffs etched with sigils to keep Dean from escaping. Dean recognized them because they’d used them on Crowley when they attempted to make him human.

He knew that Sam would do everything to get his Dean back, but Dean no longer wanted that life; he was happy without rushing into the fray and risking his life for people who didn’t give a damn about him or his sacrifice.

Setting the empty glass aside, Dean asked with a smirk, “Do you really think those are going to work?”

Chapter 5
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April 2017


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