Fic: A Town Called Rhoda (Sam/Dean, NC-17) Part 5 of 7

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*****

By the time Dean made it into his bed, it had all already been decided. Well, Blair had decided. He cuddled up to them in bed, and started his usual moves, Blair had pushed him off before he could get too far.

“I can’t, Dean. Not when I know the person you really want in this bed is a few hundred yards away sleeping in your other cabin.”

“Blair, c’mon, that’s not—“ Dean stumbled to a stop, because they were right, and both of them knew it.

“You know I’m right, and I won’t do that to myself. I love myself enough to come out and say it. We need to end this, and you need to be with Sam.”

“Blair, I told you we’ve tried that before, several times. But Sam and I, we don’t work,” Dean said. “But we do, you and me, we work.”

“Dean, that was before. Everything’s changed now, and I think Sam has too. He’s really different from how you’d described him to me back when we first met.”

“Different how?”

“That Sam had let you go, this Sam went through hell just to have a chance to get back to you,” Blair said. “I think that boy would turn himself inside out just to make things right with you. You need to give him a second chance.”

“What about you?” Dean asked.

“I’ll be okay. Now that I’ve had this with you, I know it’s at least possible for me,” Blair said.

“Blair, what if I don’t want to just let you go? You’ve been so good to me. I thought we were so great together.”

“Listen, I know he hurt you, Dean. And I don’t want to hurt you too, but this is what’s right. I wouldn’t do this if I wasn’t sure. I’d be crazy to give up being with someone like you.”

“That’s what I feel like. It’s crazy, Blair. I wish you wouldn’t just blow me off like this.”

“I’m not blowing you off, I’m doing the right thing, and I’m one hundred percent sure that you’ll thank me later,” Blair said, pulling on their boots.

“C’mon and stay, it’s not safe to ride at night,” Dean said.

“No, I need to, and you need the time alone to get your head on straight. Like I said, give that boy a second chance, you’ll be thanking me later,” Blair said, grabbing their stuffed backpack, walking out the bedroom door and shutting it quietly behind them.

They could hear Dean hit the wall with his fist, and some garbled yelling, but Dean didn’t come after them or try to stop them. That’s when they knew they’d really done the right thing.

Blair almost had the motorcycle started when Sam walked by with his new puppy, Rufus. The pup was pulling at the leash and snuffling like crazy near the chicken coop.

“Hey, Blair, you’re leaving tonight? Thought we were doing a Winchester scramble tomorrow for breakfast,” Sam said.

“Nope, not this weekend, maybe another time. I’m out of here, and F.Y.I., I just broke up with Dean.”

“Wait, hold on, you did what?” Sam asked, stopping in his tracks, going abnormally still, it was kind of eerie. And a lot like how Dean was when they went hunting together—too much training.

Blair buckled on their helmet and started their electric motorcycle, they were pleased at the instant and smooth hum, now was not the time for hesitation or error. They needed to get out before they changed their mind. “You heard me right. Bye, Sam and good luck. You both need it.”

Blair drove through the open gate and turned up the road towards their family home. It was going to be hard to explain to their mom in the morning why they were back so soon. Hopefully she wouldn’t ask too many questions. Blair felt the weight lift from their shoulders the further they drove away from Dean’s place, no—the Winchester’s place.

***

Dean heard someone knocking at the front door. Why would Blair be knocking? Had they changed their mind? His mind raced, trying not to hope because they’d probably just left something behind.

“Dean?” Sam asked, quiet and hesitant.

Dean leaned his head against the door with a small thunk. “Yeah, what, Sammy? I was trying to get some sleep.”

“Can I come in? I just talked to Blair,” Sam said.

Dean thunked his forehead again, who the hell knew what Blair had said to Sam. Hopefully not ‘go get him tiger’ or whatever.

“I need some time alone, Sam,” Dean said.

The doorknob turned and the door slowly opened, Dean stepped back with a sigh. “Dude, it doesn’t count as alone time if you’re here.”

“I don’t think you should be alone,” Sam said.

“What—ever? And why’s it up to you all of a sudden?” Dean asked, immediately going into fight mode because the pain of everything else before him was too much to deal with.

Sam stepped forward and wrapped his arms around him. “I’m sorry that Blair left. I really am.”

“I don’t want—“

“They told me good luck as they left,” Sam said. “So I’m here pressing my luck, okay?”

“Okay, whatever,” Dean grumbled. “I’m going back to bed.”

Sam followed.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Dean asked. It came out angrier than he’d intended.

Sam flinched at the anger in Dean’s voice. “I was going to stay with you, until you fall asleep. If that’s okay with you?”

“Fine, whatever,” Dean grumped, climbing under the covers and turning away from Sam. So much for alone time.

Sam laid down on the bed next to him, the bed frame squealing in protest. He stayed on top of the covers, pointedly not making any moves. It was embarrassing how comforting it was having Sam just being there next to him while he struggled not to cry at being left like this or to do something even stupider like beg Sam to hold him. Sam sighed and rolled on his side so that he was facing Dean. His hand smoothed the hair back from Dean’s forehead and then down his cheek. Dean was proud of himself for holding all his reactions inside. No audible moan escaped his lips, his head didn’t press into Sam’s hand. He sneakily cracked his eyes open just enough to see the look on Sam’s face. He looked like he was going to cry.

“I’m really sorry, Dean. I swear I didn’t come here to screw your life up.”

“I know you didn’t. Shit happens, ‘m still glad you’re here,” Dean said, resolutely keeping his eyes closed.

“If you want me to move out, I will,” Sam said. “Like I was saying before, I heard about how they’re trying to reopen Cal State Humboldt, thought I could go teach or something. It’s not that far away.”

“Shut up and sleep, Sammy,” Dean said.

Sam’s hand seemed to grow heavier on his head, Dean snuck a peek again. Sam was crying now, silent tears tracking down his face. Was it sadness or relief that Dean wasn’t kicking him out immediately. Who knew with this Sam any more, Dean sure as hell didn’t.

“Dude, you’re gonna get my pillow wet,” Dean grumbled.

“Sorry, I’ll just…uh,” Sam got up from the bed and was almost out the door.

Dean turned back the covers, and pointed at Sam and then back at the bed. Sam wiped his hands over his face, toed out of his shoes and dropped his jeans and outer shirt. He climbed into Dean’s bed for the first time in a long time, under the covers their legs tangled together just like they always had. And it was enough for now, Dean thought in the comfortable silence. Blair was gone, and Dean still loved them. But Sam was here, miracle of miracles, and Dean had and would always love him more than anyone else. Blair had been right, it wasn’t fair to them, they had figured out that Sam was in permanent first position in his heart. They were smart to leave.

****

When Dean woke up the next morning, Sam wasn’t in the bed. He was relieved, it would make this easier. He cooked up some quick eggs and bread for breakfast and ate staring out the front window. Poppy was out there, grazing in the pasture, so that meant Sam was still here. At least he hadn’t left quite yet. He washed up and tried not to think about it, that this was probably it, the last day Sam would be around. There were chores to do, so he got to them, and tried not to think about who had already left and who would be leaving.

He didn’t see Sam until later that afternoon. His brother’s lanky frame came strolling towards him where he was parked on the shady side of the deck, he was carrying a bottle and two glasses.

“You raiding my stash?”

“No, just returning what you left over at my cabin last night,” Sam said.

“Well, have a seat,” Dean gestured at the wide open deck, kicking his boots against the frame below in a solid 4/4 rhythm.

Sam settled down and poured them each a slug in the two glasses. He handed one of them over to Dean. “How are you doing…after everything last night?”

Dean snorted and sipped a little whisky to calm his urge to start yelling or throwing things. “I’m wishing I had a cell phone so I could text them, you know? But now it’s gonna be a big freaking deal, when I have to see Blair in town the first time. Shit, and Blair’s family—oh their family is not gonna be happy with me.”

“Or me,” Sam said.

“Yeah, you home-wrecker, you,” Dean said with another snort.

“That’s not…shit, don’t say that,” Sam said with a small smile. He hid the rest of his expression behind his glass.

“Well, what’s true is true, just cause you don’t like the name doesn’t change it,” Dean said.

“I haven’t—we haven’t even done anything though,” Sam protested.

“That’s not the only thing that counts, dude,” Dean said. “What was it Jimmy Carter said, I’ve committed adultery in my heart many times.”

“Wow, whipping out a Jimmy Carter reference, that goes way back, old man,” Sam said with a grin he couldn’t hide.

“Older than you’ll ever be,” Dean said with a matching grin.

“So, have you thought about what I asked you last night, whether you want me to move out or not?” Sam asked.

“Let me guess, you’re already packed to make it easier?” Dean asked.

Sam nodded, looking surprised at Dean’s question. Instead of asking more about Sam’s intention to leave, Dean decided he had to give Sam the rest of the story he hadn’t told him, before he left he should know. This might be the last chance he’d have to tell him.

“All this time, I was wishing I’d been down there in San Francisco with you when the bombs fell. So that I would have died too, you know? And Blair’s the one, the only one who could get me out of thinking like that, from drinking myself to death. They hid all the whisky from me, took my gun away, they saved me. I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for them.”

“I owe them, I know I do. I’ll make it up to Blair somehow, I swear I will find a way to.”

“I know you will, if they let you that is. It’s kind of funny, this is like me with Amelia, I owed her for keeping you alive when you thought I was dead and gone. And I didn’t own up to that like I should have. Too busy with my own shit to do it.”

“It’s okay, Dean. You had to readjust to being back from Purgatory.”

“Hey, you know, Purgatory is why we’re even here,” Dean said.

“To Eleanor,” Sam said, clinking their glasses together.

“When Blair said I should ask you about what you did to get here, what did they mean?”

“I probably told them more of the gory details than I told you, so I guess it must have made an impression,” Sam said. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think you wanted to know.”

“Oh, so we’re doing that again? That’s bull and you know it, Sam. C’mon, lay it on me,” Dean said.

Sam took a deep breath and told Dean everything he’d told Blair. He still obviously left out the details of what happened in Reno.

Dean whistled in appreciation for Sam’s tale. “That’s quite a tale, I can see what Blair meant. I can’t believe you kept going after all that, just to get here.”

“Well, I had to—had to get here so you’d know I was alive,” Sam said.

“What really happened in Reno though? Shot a man just to watch him die? Seriously, though, you kind of left out the details on that part,” Dean said.

Sam hung his head and shook it slowly. Dean was guessing that he couldn’t make himself go there in his memory, couldn’t even say it out loud, which meant it was bad, really bad. Dean’s hand moved before he could stop himself, landing on Sam’s knee, squeezing gently, giving the comfort he knew Sam needed.

“C’mon, Sammy, let it out,” Dean said.

Sam looked up at him through his hair, eyes already sparkling with tears. “The camp they put me in, there were way too many people and not enough food. After a few weeks, it was clear my choices were limited, either starving in the camp, or working in the casino, but I didn’t know what that meant at first,” Sam said.

“There was still a casino running?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, they had a lot of solar power because of the Tesla plant, so the electricity was on, the games were all running, but that wasn’t why—it wasn’t why I was there,” Sam said.

“You weren’t dealing blackjack or running the roulette wheel then?”

“Uh, no, they had the professionals doing that. They put me in what they called the hospitality room, I was drugged most of the time to keep me compliant, so a lot of it is hazy.”

“Sam, you don’t have to—“ Dean said, stomach dropping at what that likely meant. He could see it written on Sam’s face, the shame, degradation, and worse.

“No, you’re right, I should just let it out. You should know all of it, like Blair said, it might affect your decision on whether you really want me around,” Sam said. He stood up and unbuttoned his jeans, pulled one side down and turned so Dean could see the side of his ass.

Dean tried to hold in the gasp, but he knew Sam still heard him by the full body flinch. “Those god-damned bastards,” Dean growled.

“It’s not the worst part of what happened there, but it’s a permanent reminder of what I was, what I did there. They wanted everyone to know who owned me,” Sam mumbled.

“Sammy, you’re not there, you got out. You got yourself here, back to me where you belong,” Dean said, hand covering up the ugly pattern of raised red skin, the brand on his brother’s flank, because he couldn’t bear to look at it for one more second. He could feel the warm skin under his fingers. Not nearly as hot as it’d been when he’d been branded.

“I’m telling you this because I’m not sure I can ever…you know, do anything sexual, with you. Seems like you should know that before you decide on whether you want me to stick around,” Sam said.

Dean leaned forward and pressed his lips over the raised letters on Sam’s skin, wishing he could erase them just with this gesture. “That’s not what’s important to me,” Dean said.

“It is though, be honest, it always has been a big part of it,” Sam said.

“That was then, this is now. We’ll figure it out, Sammy,” Dean said.

“We?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, you and me, I mean…if you still want that,” Dean said.

“Is that even a real question, or are you just being a coy bastard?” Sam asked.

“Both,” Dean said with the one-sided grin he knew always worked on Sam.

*****

It took a few weeks to work out exactly how they were going to do this living together thing. At first Sam stayed in his cabin, and Dean stayed in his. Maybe that would have been enough if Blair had still been in the picture, but they weren’t, they were staying away probably for their own self-protection Dean assumed. He wasn’t a person that could be alone for too long, he’d realized that about himself. And Sam was right there, so close, but still too far away. Dean couldn’t help himself wanting to change things right away, go back to what they’d had before. But he kept reminding himself of how hard it had been for Sam to share what he’d had to do just to survive in Reno. He couldn’t push for things to change until Sam showed him that he was ready.

Sam was coming over for dinner tonight, that’s what they’d planned—at least that was what Dean remembered. But it was past the time they usually ate, and full dark outside, and still no Sam. He wrapped up a Sam-sized portion of the meal and carried it over to Sam’s cabin. There was only one light on that he could see, one candle actually. And Sam huddled in a tight ball on his bed. Dean put the food in the refrigerator and toed out of his boots, shrugged off his coat and crawled into bed beside him. He curved his body around Sam, fitting them together in the most protective big-spoon possible. Sam pressed back into him, a little bit at a time, still not saying a thing. Dean just held him in the silence, willing him to know it was okay not to talk or explain, just to be held and accept the comfort.

*****

To Part 6