Summary: After the shocking fight with Metatron went down, Dean returned to claim his rightful place on the throne of hell along with his brother. Sam, however, might need some persuading.
Warnings: language and spoilers for 09x23
Disclaimer: I only own the plot of my story.
AN: I realise that there are two fics on my profile which are incomplete. This is mainly due to technical errors and the fact that I'm currently doing exams. As soon as I get a chance, I will be updating but this fic came to me and I wrote it in the car on my iPad cause I'm cool like that! I hope you enjoy this one-shot. If anyone has a request for a story, please message me. I might also plan a selection of hurt!sam one-shots so throw your requests at me!
"You're gonna die. And this? This is what you're going to become."
- Demon!Dean 03x10
"Let's go take a howl at that moon."
The eldest Winchesters eyes opened, onyx black replacing their usual mossy green. The cuts on his face began to heal and he sat up, his head turning to the left to see someone he had known for years: Crowley. This time though, he looked different. Dean felt a sudden fear that maybe he was piercing the veil again. He remembered Bobby saying saying that he was getting a glimpse of the other side when his soul was due to be taken, but he didn't remember selling his soul.
He also felt dangerous. Like he could crush someone's skull with his bare hands and he could feel a burning sense of anger deep inside him.
"Crowley," his voice was rough probably through lack of use. Being dead and coming back did have its issues. "What's happening to me?"
"Now Squirrel," Crowley put his hands up to prevent Dean from coming near him. "I didn't know this was gonna happen but that's what you get for not reading the terms and conditions on the mark."
"Didn't know what was gonna happen?" Dean growled lowly and watch as Crowley's eyes moved to look at the mirror. Dean sat up and walked slowly to the mirror. He stared at his reflection and saw his fully black eyes which quickly switched to green when he blinked.
"What the hell?" He gasped and span to face Crowley. "What the fuck did you do to me?"
"What did I do to you?" Crowley put his hand over his heart. "I'm offended. I didn't do anything to you. You're the one who took on the mark and then got yourself killed."
Dean felt a sudden surge of anger and a power unlike anything he hand ever felt flooded through him. He forced his hand towards the demon before him and the power was pushed out, forcing Crowley against the wall. Dean smirked as Crowley's breath was knocked out and he was forced back by an invisible force.
"I'm gonna kill you," Dean grinned darkly, the First Blade still clutched in his fist. "Nice and slow."
"Really, Squirrel?" Crowley raised his eyebrows. "I wouldn't think you'd have the guts."
"Oh, believe me," Dean spoke darkly and twirled the blade in his hands. "I have more guts than you realised. I mean, I was Alistair's finest student." His mouth twisted into a smile and his eyes flickered to black.
"You're lying!" Crowley shouted but struggled against the force that held him in place. "Alistair only taught the best."
"Yeah," Dean grinned. "And I was the best of the best."
Before Crowley could say another word, Dean sliced the blade down Crowley's chest, leaving the king of hell choking on his own blood and gasping for breath.
A crash awoke Sam from his uneasy, alcohol induced slumber. He rubbed his red rimmed eyes and sat up with a yawn. Another crash rumbled through the bunker which made Sam swing his legs over the edge of the bed and stumble out of his room in search of the source of the crash.
He gasped softly when he realised that the noise was coming from Dean's bedroom. Sam's hand reach for the doorknob and he pushed it open with a soft creak. The sight before him made his legs go weak.
The furniture in Dean's room was scattered everywhere, some were broken into small chunks of wood. Blood was splattered over the walls and the dead body of the former king of hell lay on the floor. What startled Sam the most, however, was the fact that his dead brother was on his feet, stood over Crowley's body, chest heaving. The First Blade was clutched in his fist, covered in blood just like Dean's face and clothes.
"Dean?" Sam's voice was rough and he rubbed his eyes to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating.
Dean's eyes raised to look up at his baby brother and he smirked as his eyes changed to black and Sam took a frightened step backwards.
"Heya, Sammy," Dean spoke cheerily. "Bet you didn't think I would turn into this."
Sam swallowed around the lump in his throat and started an exorcism. It was short lived when Sam's body was sent crashing backwards into the corridor outside Dean's bedroom.
"That won't work," Dean chuckled. "It's really me, baby brother."
"Don't call me that," Sam knew that he sounded like a frightened little boy as he gazed up at Dean with wide eyes. "You're not him."
Dean sighed and crouched next to his little brother. Sam barely had time to register the pain in his jaw as Dean's fist crashed down and everything went black.
Dean lifted Sam's limp body over his shoulder and carried him into the library. Ideally, he would have liked to have used the dungeon, but he knew he couldn't do that without getting his ass trapped in a devil trap. He sat Sam down in one of the chair and grabbed a thick rope, tying it around Sam's torso and the chair. He sat on the table, admiring his handiwork, as he waited for Sam to awake.
Sam's head was groggy and he moaned in pain as he started to wake up.
"Rise and shine, little brother." A teasing voice called out. "We don't have all day."
Sam opened his eyes and realised that he was tied up. He tried to cry out but it came out as a muffle. He realised to his horror that he was gagged. He looked up through his bangs to see Dean sat on the table, an evil smirk on his face.
"Maybe we can talk without you trying to run or kill me," Dean said as he started pacing back and forth in front of his brother. "Now, both of the rightful heirs to the throne of hell are dead, but both you and I are also heirs. I'm a knight of hell and you are the boy king of Lucifer and Azazel. You've been neglecting your duties though which means that we're gonna have to get your strength up if you are going to rule hell with me."
Sam looked wide-eyed with panic and his voice was muffled by the gag in his mouth. He struggled against the tight rope to no avail. Dean noticed his struggled and smirked.
"Oh Sammy..." He grinned, eyes going black. "It's cute that you think you can escape from me."
Dean picked up a knife that lay on the table and cut into his arm. He watch the blood as it welled up and trickled like a river down his forearm.
"You can't," he spoke as he crouched in front of his terrified little brother. "I'm gonna make sure that you become the ruler of hell that you were destined to be since you were six months old." He held his arm out near Sam's nose. "You remember this smell, baby brother? Remember the taste? My blood will be even more addictive than that whore's blood that you drank. You'll be addicted again soon and we will rule hell together. Just you and me, Sammy. We won't need anyone else."
With that, he tugged down the gag and gripped Sam's jaw before he could close it. He pressed the bloody cut to Sam's mouth and cupped the back of his head in his hand.
The taste hit Sam and it was far better than he ever remembered. He knew it was wrong and he shouldn't give in, but his body would cooperate and he began to drink the blood greedily. It warmed his body and he felt the power surge through him
"It's okay, baby boy." Dean soothed and ran his fingers through Sam's hair. "Drink your fill and I will release you so that we can return to hell. You remember hell, Sammy?"
Sam moaned as he drank the blood and nodded against Dean's arm. His memories of hell were not things that he wanted to remember, but he would do this for his brother. He lapped up the blood until the wound stopped bleeding and Dean pulled his arm away. Sam whined softly at the loss of the blood but sat obediently as Dean cut away the bonds that kept him tied to the chair.
"I'm sorry for tying you up, Sammy." Dean apologised as he pulled Sam to his feet. "I had to make you see sense and that was the only way. You understand?"
"Yes, De." Sam spoke softly, dropping the last few letters of his brother's name.
Dean pulled Sam into strong arms and held him tightly, running his hands through his little brother's hair.
"Let's go home, brother. Our real home." Dean took Sam's hand and squeezed gently as he zapped the down to hell's throne room. "Welcome home." Dean grinned.
Sam gasped softly and looked around. Many demons surrounded them, their heads bowed as a sign of respect for the two former hunters.
"The boy king has returned," Sam heard one of them whisper.
The room was large and dark, the only light being the candles that lined the walls and hung down from a crystal chandelier. There was a plush, black carpet and deep red wallpaper with gold patterning. In the centre of the room sat two large thrones, both with their own pillow and a crown set on top.
Two demons stepped forward and led the two brothers to different thrones. Sam gazed around himself in awe as he was sat in one of the thrones and a gold crown in the shape of twisted thorns was placed gently on his head. He glanced over at Dean who was sat proudly in his own chair with a golden crown on his head with red jewels surrounding the rim. His eyes were black but shone in the candle light.
"Your majesties," the demons got down on one knee in front of them.
Dean grinned proudly while Sam shrank in his chair. He had never liked being the centre of attention. This was all very new. Dean, however, looked like he had belonged in that throne all of his life.
Dean took an offered knife from one of the demons and cut into his wrist. He reached across to Sam who gripped his arm in his large had and began drinking the blood.
"It's the start of a new life, little brother."
I hope you all enjoyed it. Remember to leave a review and a hurt!sam request if you have one.
Thank you for reading!