#cursed!sam

“Possess him? Hell no, he’s had way too much of that, Cas, come on!” Cas jumps at the sudden sharpness of Dean’s words, but he’s not offended. No, he knows exactly what Dean means.

“Dean, I need to be able to…” Cas pauses, as if he’d just realized something.

“Cas?” Dean, noticing Cas’ hesitation, perks up. “There’s an ‘unless’ in there, isn’t there… unless what, Cas?” He looks from his catatonic brother back to the angel, desperate for answers.

“I could…I could possibly send you in there, Dean.”

Dean pauses, considering. It’s not like actual possession, right? No, he’d just be visiting. Like Crowley did those many years ago. Except that was technically possession, too…Dean knew Sam would be pissed at him. Letting yet another being inside his head. Whether it be Cas or him. He thinks some more and decides he doesn’t really want Cas seeing some of Sam’s darker secrets.

Dean sees this is probably the only way. He gives in reluctantly.

“Yeah Cas, do it. He’ll have to forgive me later. What do I have to do?”

“I assure you, it will be quick and painless, Dean.”

 **

Dean of course, needs to drink something nasty, similar to the dream root.

Quick and painless.

Yeah, right.

**

He opened his eyes. The room was cold, and…damp? There was a weird, wet smell to the place and Dean scrunched up his nose.

“Sam? Sammy?” Dean’s words reverberated off the walls. Where the hell was he? A locker room? Wait, he knew this place. This was where…he and Dad had killed that – BANG! – one of the lockers slammed shut beside him, and Dean jumped, pulling the gun from his waistband. He turned quickly, backing himself into a corner. One row of lockers in front of him blocked his view of the main, open part of the room. Dean heard Sam grunt, and he ran around the lockers to see – himself helping Sam up. He backed up again, trying to remain unseen.

“What the hell is wrong with you Sammy? You could have gotten us killed!” Dean heard himself say. Then he heard a slap of skin and he closed his eyes. Oh yeah, he’d slapped Sam across the cheek after he screwed up this hunt. He always regretted doing that, and he’d never said he was sorry.

“I’m sorry Dean. I didn’t mean to –“

“You’re not ready for this yet, Sammy. Just stay back next time, yeah?” Dean watched himself step over his brother and raise his gun, running right at him. Dean stepped back again, and before he could react,  the other Dean ran right through him.

Oh.

A memory. Sam’s reliving a memory.

Dean turned back to Sam. He remembers this. He remembers running out, leaving Sam behind. Sam had messed up that hunt, but he was only fourteen. He really was just trying to help. And Dean had  reacted…like that.

The Sam he’d left behind in that locker room fell to his knees. He dropped the iron pipe he was using as a weapon on the floor with a loud clang. He began to cry. In fact, he began to sob.

“Dean, wait, come back, don’t leave me! I’m scared, De – I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please!” Sam’s cries were desperate, and Dean was taken aback. He’d had no idea Sam had done that. No idea he had left his brother in fear all alone.

It’s when he heard Sam’s blood curdling scream that made his own blood turn cold. The ghost they’d come to gank had been attracted to the noise and was now hovering over Sam. Sam reached for the pipe, but it slid across the floor, far out of Sam’s reach. Dean stood with his mouth wide open. The ghost had come back to Sam? Now knowing that this was just a memory, and that all he could do was watch, Dean did just that.

He watched as the ghost laughed and taunted Sam. It hovered over him, and – passed through him three times. Dean watched in horror as the ghost tossed his brother around the room, his body lifted and tossed into rows of lockers twice until…

Until the ghost had suddenly stopped above him and burst into flames.

Yeah, he and his dad had burned that necklace, knowing the ghost would go ‘poof’ wherever he was. Dean had had no idea he’d saved Sam’s life.

Free from the ghost, Sam just sobbed. He stayed curled in a ball and remained on the floor.  

Dean had no idea. Sam had never told them this had happened. He merely came back and apologized for his behavior, promising to be obedient from then on. Dean didn’t remember any injuries his brother had, either. Sam must have hid those as well.

Dean swallowed and tried to move forward, but the room shifted around him. He felt disoriented as the colors around him changed. He blinked, and -

“Nooooo!!” The scream that came from Sam sent shivers down Dean’s spine so sharp that he felt it in every single nerve in his body.

This room was dark, and he could smell metal and blood. The lights flickered and Dean was able to see his brother chained in the corner, covered in cuts and bruises, his hair damp and hanging in his face. He was wheezing and gasping for breath. He was clearly in agony.

“No more, no more,” croaked Sam.

“Eternity is a long time, bunk buddy,” Dean heard from behind him. Oh he’d know that voice anywhere. His hands clenched in rage. ‘Get away from him,’ Dean thought.

Sam began to tremble. He rose to his knees and put his arms up to protect himself. But Lucifer strode forward anyway, waving his hand non-shalantly, producing a fresh cut across Sam’s face.

Sam stopped screaming and hung his head. He fell to his hands again.

The Cage. This was a memory from The Cage. Sam never talked about that. Never shared what Lucifer did.

Lucifer raised his arm and came down to strike the cowering Sam. Dean wanted desperately to save his brother. He tried moving closer, but he could not. He wanted to tell Sam he’d be saved, to hang in there. But he couldn’t. He had no voice here. He could only watch.

Lucifer’s fist came down and Dean saw blood fly out of Sam’s mouth. He screamed. At least he tried to scream. He opened his mouth and his lungs burned from the hoarseness, but no sound came out. Dean closed his eyes as the third blow came down onto Sam’s already wrecked body, and begged for Cas. He covered his eyes with his arm.

Sam started screaming again.

Dean felt himself being pulled back, as if tied to a string, quickly lowered his arm and blinked.

Cas was standing in front of him.

“Did you get to him? Dean, did you find out what’s happening? Are you ok? What did you see?” Cas was clearly concerned.

It took Dean a minute to compose himself and he put up his hand to show he was alright. When he’d lost the dizzy feeling in his head and finally found words again, he turned to see Sam was beside him, still staring into nothing.

-

Sam, on account of her new breasts and smaller body, decided she wanted to get new clothes. Dean agreed but… this felt really weird. He’d never had a sister. Sure Charlie fit the category but, still.

None of Sam’s pants fit anymore so she just grabbed some pajama pants and tied them tight. Her shoes didn’t fit anymore so she just put on flip flops. She was a little upset she couldn’t carry a gun but Dean had it covered. She came flip-flopping down the hall and Dean couldn’t help his little snicker.

“Shut up!” She grinned with him. “Nothing fits anymore. It’s really uncomf-“

“Holy shit. I’m taller again!” He laughed and stepped up to her, placing a flat hand on her head. Sam came up about to his lips. She swatted his hand away. “Of course you are. Come on already.”

-

They got to a grocery store and Sam had no idea what to get. She didn’t know what size of anything she was. Dean watched her look around and held a few things up for her to try on. They quickly found out she’d stick to flannel and jeans. Then they got to underwear and Sam blushed and shook her head. “I’ve never really had to wear this stuff. I don’t feel right even looking at it.” She said quietly to Dean.

Dean shushed her and took her hand. “Come on. It’s easy. We’ll get a few different kinds if you want, you can even keep wearing boxers. That’d be cute.” He smirked. She sighed.

“Fine.”

“And hey,” He started picking panties off of hooks. “I’m good at sizing girls anyway. Just say if you don’t want what I pick out and we won’t get it.”

She nodded, still feeling weird about the women’s underwear section. She went off to look at shoes instead. Easier.

Dean had a small basket full of panties and bras and boxers and couldn’t find Sam. He called her.

“Hey.”

“Hey, where’d you go? I got a bunch of underwear for you.”

“I’m… looking at tampons…”

Dean stopped at thought about that. “Oh, um. Do you… need that stuff?”

“I don’t know. I’m just trying to prepare for it I guess.”

Dean nodded. “Alright. Meet me at checkout.”

“Yeah.”

-

They got back to the bunker and unloaded clothes and clothes and clothes and value packs of tampons and pads. Dean huffed annoyed. “Shit is expensive. Ridiculous.” He grumbled.

“False labor.” You told him. “Bodies just getting ready for the real thing. This is nothing, Dean. Labor contractions can last about 90 seconds each, and only give you about a minute or two of rest in between when it’s all in full swing.”

“Fuck, I hope this wears off before then…” He sat down in the chair by the desk. “Can we bring that witch back so I can kill her again?”

“I don’t think that would help, Dean.” You chuckled.

“It’ll help me feel better.” He pouted.

“Dean?”

“Yeah sweetheart?”

“Did you remember the pie?”

“SON OF A BITCH!”

One of John’s old hunting buddies contacted Dean when you were about 36 weeks. “Hey Sammy, You remember some guy named Pete?”

“Yeah.. I think so. Huge, build like a truck. Lived out in the middle of nowhere?”

“Yeah, that’s him. He married few years back. Turns out, his wife’s a midwife. Offered up her services. Apparently, word may have got around that we’ve got a bit of a connection going, when it comes to the pain.” Dean winced.

You chuckled. “That probably would be more ideal than you two freaking out nurses by taking up other beds and begging for your own epidurals.”

Dean shot you a glare. “I’ll call him back, let him know we’ll take him up on it.”

At 38 weeks, you were in the back of the Impala, driving up to Pete’s place. You had met them a week ago, to be sure you were comfortable with her as a midwife. She had insisted on it. It started with dinner, then she gave you a quick exam in their motel room. He could come any day, and with your contractions now starting to get more regular, you didn’t want to chance birthing in the car halfway there.

“That kid better stay in.” Dean glanced in the rear view. “Feels like an alien is trying to bust through me at any minute.”

“Imagine how I feel.” You grumbled.

“Stop being an ass, Dean.” Sam shook his head.

“Hey, I don’t need my car smelling like… whatever that’s going to smell like, okay. I’ll never get it out.”

“Yeah, because it smells so good in here now.” You scoffed.

“You shut your mouth.” He glared through the rear view again. “Don’t listen to her Baby, you smell fantastic.” Sam laughed, earning him a glare too.

Arriving at the quaint house set back from the road, you were greeted with open arms and ushered right inside. “Please tell me you can give me the epidural, I can’t listen to these two much longer.”

She laughed. “Sorry sweetie, just Entonox to dull the pain. I can give them some too though, if they need it that bad.”

“Oh I fucking need it.” Dean grumbled. “Anything, for a whole tank.”

“Your car.” Pete grinned.

“It is a nice car.” His wife agreed, teasing.

“I’ll deal with the fucking pain.” He grumbled and stalked off.

Dean was outside the room with Pete, wincing through the pain. “Here.” Pete chuckled and handed him a bottle. A bottle of what, Dean had no idea, but he didn’t care.

“Might need something stronger.” He grumbled as he started downing it, sputtering out a cough a moment later as it burned his throat.

“Still think that?” Pete grinned.

“Yes.” He put the bottle to his lips again.

It wasn’t long before they heard the cries, and Dean was smiling. He got some relief from the pain as the door opened, and Sam came out holding the tiny infant. Dean stood up and looked down at him. “He’s beautiful, Sammy.”

“Worth every bit of pain.” Sam grinned. “I have a son.” He looked up at Dean. “Want to hold him?”

Dean patted himself down for a sec. “It’s finally over. No more pain. Yeah, I want to hold him. I felt like I birthed him.”

As Sam was about to hand him over, Dean started groaning and clutching himself again. Pete laughed. “Ain’t over yet.”

“Son of a bitch!” Dean sat back in the chair. “Was there a hidden fucking twin in there? He’s born! This shit should be over.”

“After birth.” Pete laughed. “Placenta and what not. It comes out just like the baby, but not as rough. It’ll be over in a minute.”

Sam placed the baby in Dean’s arm. “You’re lucky you’re cute kid.” Dean smiled as his eyes opened and looked up at Dean. “Cutest damn Winchester ever born. And Uncle Dean is going to spoil you rotten.”

Sam smiled. As happy as he was, no one was happier about this baby than Dean. And Dean deserved some good in his life, finally.

*If you like, please consider supporting my work, or requesting a commission.*

Tagging : Dean - @evyiione   @soythedemonqueen   @deanandsamsbitch @akshi8278 @haelyn   @aubreystilinski 

Supernatural - @roxyspearing @tardis-full-of-fallen-angels @mrs-celestial-dragneel-redfox23 @internationalmusicteacher @extreme-supernatural-lover @super100012 @legend-o-zelda @myloveforyouxx @kickasscas67 

He just needs to think of a way around whatever memory Sam is experiencing, and imagine a different outcome.

Cas prepares for the next attempt.

Dean doesn’t sleep.

**

He drinks the sludge and shudders.

He doesn’t get used to it.

**

Sam’s sitting on a dirty motel blanket. He’s in a sweatshirt with the hood up and the string pulled tight. He’s wearing jeans and thick socks, too. The room is freezing. Sam’s drinking some hot cocoa that came with the room and the tiny 1 cup coffee maker. He’s visibly shaking. Dean can see he’s been crying.

It’s really, really cold.

Dean hears Sam’s stomach rumble. Sam puts his hand to his stomach and bends over.

“Oww,” he says quietly.

Dean looks around for clues. When was this? What was this place? Why was Sam alone? Here, in this memory, Dean’s guessing Sam is maybe eight or nine. Dean sees Sam’s backpack and shoes by the door, He finds his own duffle on the side of their shared bed, and Dad’s next to the bed by the door. No other shoes around.

It’s dark outside. Where was Dad? Where was he?

The phone rings.

Sam’s up and on the phone so fast he nearly spills his cocoa.

“Dean?” Sam’s voice is desperate, shaky, and hopeful. But it changes instantly and his face falls. Sam clears his throat. “Yes sir. Yes, sir I am. Yes sir. I will sir. Okay Dad.” Sam hangs up.

Dean looks again at the paisley wallpaper, peeling in one corner of the room and gasps. He remembers.

It’s Tucson.

Right. Tucson.

They had been in Tucson for almost six months at that point. That night, after arguing with Sam over what show to put on television (enough to make their dad mad), Dean was forced to go sit in the car by an irate John. Well, Dean had fallen asleep in the back of the Impala and woke up the next day two states over. John had taken off on a hunt at the last minute, forgetting Dean was in the backseat.

It took a whole day to find his dad, as he had woken up parked in some random motel lot. Not the one he fell asleep in, either. John wasn’t with him. When Dean finally found him later that night, it took a while for John to sober up and Dean to explain to his shocked dad what had happened.

John thought Dean was with Sam.

John assured Dean he’d get someone to check on Sam.

(John had lied.)

So now Dean’s watching Sam shivering, poor kid not even knowing how to turn on the outdated, clunky heater. Crying, not knowing what had happened to his family, and when or even if they were coming back. And then the phone call. Dean watches as Sam hangs up the phone and throws himself on the bed, burying his face in the stained comforter.

“Two more days? But I’m so hungry!” Sam grabs his stomach again. “Dean, why did you leave me? I wish you were here with me, I don’t like being alone!”

It was at this moment Dean realized that no one had ever checked on Sam. No one had ever made sure he was okay or brought him food. No one. Eight years old, alone for almost four days with no food or care.

Dammit.

Dean needed to get Sam out of this memory. He focused hard, just as Cas had instructed. “You’re essentially a part of his mind, when you’re in there. Technically, you could affect the outcome,” Cas had told him.

Dean looked around, trying to decide the best course of action. He saw Sam shiver again and stare into his now empty mug. He set the mug down with a sigh and pulled the flimsy comforter over his head.

The heater.

Dean tried imagining the heater turning on. Amazingly, without much effort at all, it worked. Sam noticed the change in temperature, the hiss of the heater as it turned on. He pulled the blanket off of his head and looked around the room, squinting. He sniffed the air.

Sam got out of bed and shuffled over to the heater. He touched it gingerly. Then suddenly Sam whirled around. His eyes scrunched up

“D-Dean? Is that you? Are you…here?” Dean, startled, gasped and tried to grab his brother, but his hands went right through him.

”Sam!” Dean called out, But Sam did not hear him. Sam continued looking around the room, and even looked through Dean as his eyes passed over him.

“Dean, I know you’re here…somehow. You’re here even though you’re not. Where are you?” Sam looked down at his hands. “Is this real? I don’t – Dean! Dean I can’t see you, where are you? This can’t be the real me…”

Dean was stunned that Sam had noticed his presence. Maybe Sam realized it was a memory, too? But he had made a difference, with the heater. He had gotten Sam’s attention. He just needed to try something else. Something more noticeable – enough so Sam could see him. He was just about to reach out to try touching Sam again when he felt the string pull him back.

“No!” He yelled.

Dean was indignant when he woke up.

“Why’d you do that, Cas? Sam felt me! He knew I was there!” He grabbed Cas’ collar and pulled him closer. He was angry.

But Cas just nodded in Sam’s direction. He turned Dean’s chin to look, and Dean let go.

Sam was smiling.

And whispering.

“So close Dean. Try again.”

Dean’s anger faded.

“He’s been saying that over and over, Dean,” said Cas quietly. “Figured I’d better bring you back for this. I couldn’t get to you in there without – coming in myself, and that would leave us both vulnerable.”

Sam still stared at the wall.

“So close Dean. Try again.” Almost imperceptible.