Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are owned and copyrighted by Warner Brothers Television Production Inc.
Warning: This story contains slash and incest. Feedback to: lililuthor@hotmail.com
By the time Dean returned to the hotel if was after eight. He had promised himself he wouldn't wait past fifteen minutes but that small part of him that was a sucker for all things Shane made him wait longer. He finally reminded himself that Shane might not be Shane at all and even if he was, something better was waiting for him at his motel room. That thought didn't scare Dean as much as he thought it would. For one, Sam knew about Shane and from what he could gather, was a little bit jealous. Second, though Dean wasn't sure what was visiting him in his dreams, a small part of him longed for it to be Sam.
Dean knew his thoughts were fucked up but he just didn't care. His life had been fucked up from the minute his dad had thrust Sam into his arms and ordered him to take him out of the house. Sam was wrong when he had told Dean once during one of their worst arguments, that he couldn't possibly understand how it felt to lose someone you love. Dean may have only been four, but he loved his mom more than Sam could ever know. Time didn't end that. If anything, Sam had only been with Jessica a relatively short while in comparison. More than that, Dean was all too familiar with lost love. His father had abandoned him. Despite Sam walking out on him twice, Dean was desperately holding on to the only love he knew, that of his brother Sam. He was well aware he was twisting that love into something unnatural and perverse, but it world where mothers were pinned to ceilings and burned, fathers became demon hunters and baby brothers had psychic powers, unnatural was relative in the scheme of things.
Dean gunned the engine and hurried back to the motel. It suddenly dawned on him that maybe Shane wanted him away from the motel. When Dean finally arrived he turned off the engine and slammed the door to his precious car, hurrying towards their room. His instincts kicked in and before he reached the door he drew his weapon and cautiously opened the it.
???
"Dean don't," Missouri shouted as she bolted upright on her sofa.
She had dozed off watching Jeopardy. She always had a secret thing for Alex Trebek and never missed an episode. Her heart was racing and she struggled to catch her breath. Images swirled around in her head. She couldn't get a handle on what she had sensed and more and more she was regretting not going after the boys with John. There were so many emotions flooding her senses from the brief glimpse of shadows she'd seen; love, sorrow, danger, anger and despair. Digging in the cushions for her cordless phone she fished it out and dialed John. He answered on the first ring.
"John," she began, still out of breath, "how close are you to finding your sons?"
John knew not to ask questions but to give the woman an answer. "I just arrived in Harlan. I've asked around and the boys are at the Cobbler's Inn. I'm about fifteen minutes away."
"I think you should wait," Missouri urged. "We agreed I needed to be here."
"I know but something isn't right. I can't explain it John. I sense real danger."
"All the more reason I need to be there."
"John, there's something else..." but the line went dead before she could finish.
John needed no further instructions. He clicked off the phone and went as fast as he could without falling into a speed trap.
"Hang in there Sam and Dean, you're father's coming," the eldest Winchester whispered.
???
The room was dark save for the sliver of moonlight that spilled over Dean's shoulder from the open door. Something fluttered and Dean cocked his gun.
"Sammy?" He called cautiously, reaching for the light switch just left of the door.
A small sob and that unnerving fluttering sound came again before a small quivering voice spoke.
"Don't," Sam whispered.
"Sammy, what happened?"
Dean's hand paused over the light switch. Sam, from what Dean could see, was kneeling by the side of his bed, head resting on the mattress. "If Shane has laid one finger on him," Dean thought.
As if reading his mind Sam answered, "It wasn't Shane. He didn't do this."
"Do what?" Dean asked fearfully. "Let me turn on the light."
"No," Sam shouted. "Not yet," he said more softly.
Something moved behind Sam. It startled Dean and it was then that Dean realized he still had his weapon drawn and aimed at Sam.
"Is someone else in here?" Dean asked.
Sam laughed bitterly before answering, "You could say that."
"Dammit Sammy, talk to me or so help me I'm turning on this light."
"Wait," his brother answered fearfully. Dean could see him slowly rising from the floor.
From his silhouette, he appeared to be naked and there was definitely something moving behind him.
"Please put that down," Sam pleaded, his voice still shaky. "I won't hurt you. I could never hurt you."
"Sam, I gotta tell you, you're freaking me out here. Just tell me what's going on."
The thing behind Sam was unusually close and Dean couldn't bring himself to lower his weapon. The sound it was making was almost familiar. Dean could feel beads of sweat gathering along his top lip and trickling down the sides of his face.
"I'm turning on the light," Dean said and flicked the switch.
It took every ounce of self-control his father ever taught him not to empty several rounds into what he saw. He blinked his eyes rapidly several times just to make sure he was seeing right. There before him stood his brother, completely naked as he suspected. His dark brown hair billowing past his shoulders and practically covering his eyes and behind him, attached to him were a pair of large black feathery wings that arched up behind his head and came to a point just below his ankles. They were waving back and forth a bit and Dean briefly thought of some commercials he'd seen for Victoria's secret. He almost laughed hysterically at the thought.
Tears were rolling down his brother's face and all Dean could think was how beautiful Sam looked. He wanted to say something sarcastic to break the tension but for once in his life, he was at a loss for words.
"Surprise," Sam smiled weakly.
Dean just felt his head nodding as his eyes continued to roam up and down his brother's body and settle on the wings.
"Can you fly?" Dean blurted out.
"Not sure," Sam answered, watching him with puppy dog eyes.
"Can I touch them?" Dean asked, wondering why more obvious questions like 'what the hell is happening to you?' weren't coming out of his mouth.
Sam nodded, grateful that Dean hadn't filled him with a round or two of rock salt already. He did notice however, that Dean hadn't lowered his gun as yet either. Sam briefly wondered if he had to, could he take Dean out with one of his wings. He had spent the last hour in agony as the damn things sprung out and the rest of the time crying. It never occurred to him to run, fly or anything else. He was almost certain if anyone could help him, it would be Dean.
It was only as he approached, one hand stretched out tentatively, that he saw Sam's eyes shift to the gun and finally lowered it, putting on the safety and tucking it in his waistband.
"They're like silk," Dean said in wonder, allowing his fingers to gently glide over the soft black feathers. "Can you feel me?"
Sam nodded yes. If only Dean knew how much he could feel him. The darn things were sensitive and made his whole body shiver with each touch. Dean's face was so close to his own, his face filled with boyish wonder as he continued to trail his fingers along the feathers. Dean circled behind Sam and used both hands to trace the almost heart shaped appendages protruding from where the scars he had tended to originated.
"I think I dreamt of you," Dean whispered, kneeling down and running his hands down to the very tips of the thick feathery wings.
Sam shivered again and Dean's hands came back up the arch of the wings and down across Sam's shoulders.
"Don't worry Sammy. We'll figure this out together."
Sam turned his head and gave Dean a genuine smile and Dean leaned in. Sam watched his brother's face draw closer to his own and his lips parted slightly. The sound of a gun being cocked in front of them interrupted what both brothers had been longing for.
"Dean back away, I've got it," John shouted from the door Dean had left open.
"Dad wait," Dean yelled, trying to step from behind his brother.
The noise must have startled Sam because his wings started fluttering and Dean was just stepping around in front of Sam when the first shot was fired. The impact of the first shot sent Dean tumbling back against Sam's chest. It caught Dean in the side. The second hit him hard in the stomach and he couldn't tell if it was he or Sam crying out for their father to stop. The third hit him in the chest and then he was surrounded by blackness, soft feathery blackness and the sensation of being lifted.
'I'm dying,' Dean supposed as the dizzying feeling continued.
He could hear loud sobs in his ears and then finally the sensation of stillness. The darkness unfolded around him and then nothing.
???
Missouri's hand was already on the telephone. She was half expecting the call.
"Oh god...oh god, Missy," John said frantically. "I wasn't thinking. I shot Dean and this creature took him and I think..."
Missouri held her breath waiting for the next words.
"Tell me John," she gasped out.
"I think the creature was Sam."