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We were searching for reasons
To play by the rules
But we quickly found
It was just for fools
(Mary on a cross - Ghost )
“He doesn't want you to know,” Meg tells him with Sam's mouth, “He's screaming right now, you should hear him. Pure delight.”
Sam's lips are twisted in a vicious grin, something Dean has never seen before, something that sends shivers down his spine.
The demon that has taken possession of him laughs with his voice - a high shrill that has nothing to do with Sam. And yet.
“He's cursing at me,” she delights in telling him, “He's yelling and crying and begging. He doesn't understand he's just making this better for me. I was created to torture souls.”
“Whatever it is, this big secret you think you'll reveal, it won't change anything,” Dean spats at her, hoping she'll do her trick and then leave them alone. It's wishful thinking, of course. When have demons ever done something to make their life easier?
“Oh, such a display of loyalty!” the demon chuckles, “But you say that now.” Her grin widens and Sam's white teeth look almost shark-like in the light. “How are you going to ignore the fact that little Sammy here wants to fuck you six ways from Sunday?”
Dean must have misheard.
He blinks at her, a frown on his forehead. “He what?”
She licks Sam's lips - it's almost obscene as a gesture, but not more obscene than the way Dean can't tear his gaze away from that - “You heard me. I'm in his head, right now, I see his every little thought, his hidden desires, his fears. And he wants to fuck you, he wants to sink to his knees and take your pretty little cock in his mouth, suck you off, and swallow all your come.”
Dean pales, sweat on his forehead. It can't be.
“Oh, yes, he wants you so much. He wants to spread you on a bed, and lick you clean, lick at your asshole until you're so wet his cock will slide inside you without hurting you.”
“You're lying,” Dean says, his jaw set. It can't be.
“Oh, you wish. He wishes it too. He's so pathetic. He wishes you had come with him to Stanford, he has an entire room in his mind where he fantasizes about the little domestic life you two could have. He's so pathetic.”
It can't be. Can it?
Dean shakes his head - this is the demon lying to him. Dean might be completely fucked in the head - he went after Sam at Stanford, nights spent sleeping in a stolen car, watching him live through the windows of his flat, light on and a black silhouette moving in the room; days and days stalking him at every corner of the street, watching him go to his classes, laughing with friends, talking with girls. And then, before he could manage the courage to actually go to him and start talking , his father had called him back and Dean had taken his obsession, his need to protect Sam, his feelings that were always a little too intense, a little too hard for a brotherly bond, and he had gone back to John. Because Sam deserved to be happy, to be normal. He didn't deserve to be tainted by Dean, he didn't deserve to be as fucked in the head.
“Let me talk to him,” Dean asks - pretends - and he feels his throat hurting at every word.
Meg chuckles, evil and spiteful, “Yes,” she smirks, “yes, I think I will.”
Sam's eyes turn black and then his features slack and soften, before turning to desperation.
“She's lying Dean,” Sam pleads , “you have to believe me , she's just messing with our heads.”
Dean knows Sam, he knows what the panic, the slight hint of hysteria in his voice, means.
“Don't lie to me, Sammy,” he asks of his brother and Sammy's shoulders slump. “Please, Sammy, it's not a problem, but I need to know if she's telling the truth.”
“Dean,” Sam looks at him, really looks at him, with his pout and his big puppy eyes, and Dean just wants to fold, and kneel and give him everything, whatever, it doesn't mean if he'll have to burn the world to give it to him. “Dean, please, don’t .”
Then he's gone and Meg is back with her black cruel eyes, and the smirk that's definitively not Sammy's, and the mocking tone in his voice. But it doesn't matter, Sam's silence it's an answer in itself and Dean feels his chest exploding, his lungs filling over their capacity, and his heart burst through his ribcage.
Meg might think she's driving a rift between them, might think she's torturing them, but she's so wrong. Oh, so wrong .
This it's everything he ever wanted, everything he had never even dreamed of having. And Sam wants it too.
Dean smirks, and in the face of that stupid demon, he takes the Latin breviary.