Title As good as dead. Chapter Five.

Chapter 5/5

Author "Zenamydog"

Rating NC-17

Fandom Supernatural

Characters/Pairing Primarily Sam/Dean (Established relationship) Dean/Jo Sam/OMC

Warnings Mention of M/M sex b Tiny spoilers /b for anything b already /b aired in the U.S. Schmoop

Beta The wonderful lj user"spangelsgirl"

Feedback It's the only thing that makes it all worth while!

Disclaimer Own nothing but my imagination and my wishful thinking.

Summery "Because Jo." He looked her straight in the eye. He wanted to make sure she understood how serious he was. "If it came to a choice between a woman that I loved and my brother. Between you and him?" Dean huffed a small sigh. "Then darlin, I'm sorry. You would be as good as dead." /em

AN: Okay, folks, so I have to confess, I posted chapter one of this fic on November 5th, 2006. I wrote the first four parts in four weeks, but then my muse for this one went on holidays. I've re-read it now and I think, gosh, 6 months and wow, the difference I see in the way I write.

Anyhow, to anyone who read the four chapters, way back then. Please please accept my apologies. A personal peeve has always been of authors who don't finish what they started. wipes brow I'm not one of those any more. grins Hope you enjoy.

"Did you really think you'd get away with it?" Dean snarled as he pushed Mark into the wall. "Where's your friend? Where's George?"

Mark looked at him as if he was crazy. He'd only been caught off balance and it's not as if it would take much to get Dean off of him and to kick his fucking ass.

Dean's hands were screwed tightly into Mark's jacket and he was holding him with so much strength that Mark had to re-think his idea about taking Dean down. Well, at least not easily.

"What? George? Why do you want, George? Who the fuck are you and what the hell is this all about?"

Dean pushed his forearm against the man's throat. The man turned all shades of red and purple. "I said, Where is he?" If he pushed just that little bit harder, then that would be it. One down, three to go.

But Dean wanted the other one, he wasn't going to be satisfied until all four of them were dead. He knew Ian and Paul were in custody, but he would figure that one out later. Right now he just wanted to know where George was.

"He's at the clubhouse," Mark choked out.

"Are you sure?" Dean released a little and then pushed back.

"Yes," Mark could hardly breathe, let alone speak. "I… I'm sure."

Dean released the man and took two steps back, pulling a gun from his jeans.

Mark brought his hand to his throat with a look of total shock on his face. "What the…?"

"On your knees," Dean said, his face so twisted with distain it was hardly recognizable.

"Why are you doing this?" Mark asked holding up his hands as tears welled in his eyes.

"I said on your fucking knees!" Dean cocked the gun and pointed it directly at his head.

Mark dropped to his knees and looked up into Dean's eyes pleadingly. "Please, please. I haven't done anything. I don't even know who you are. Why are you doing this?"

Dean took a step forward and put the gun to Mark's mouth, applying just enough pressure, to make him open.

Mark's brow was sweating and he was shaking. His eyes were so full of fear that Dean lost his concentration for a split second. "You wanna know why?" Dean hissed.

Mark nodded even though he had a gun in his mouth.

"Please?" Dean mocked. "Didn't Sam say please? Didn't he fucking beg? Beg you to stop?"

When Mark still looked blank, Dean continued. "Two weeks ago. The Hipshack bar. The alley out the back."

Mark looked confused for a moment, just before his eyes widened in recognition.

"That tall dark headed guy. The one you beat the fuck out of and then tortured." Dean's hand was shaking, but it was rage not nerves.. "That was my brother."

Mark shook his head. "No. Please," he begged.

Dean wasn't sure, but the look on Mark's face confirmed that Sam had indeed, begged. Those images, the ones of Sammy in agony, terror on his face, begging for the pain to stop, almost caused Dean to pull the trigger right then.

"But you didn't stop, did you?" Dean crouched down so he can get right up in Mark's face. "You laughed! You fucking laughed!"

Mark started to cry and the sobs echoed through the empty alley. "Are you scared Mark? Are you? Because Sam was," Dean said, pushing the gun further into the man's throat. "He was terrified, but you kept going and you fucking LAUGHED!"

Mark made a muffled sound and closed his eyes. His tears fell freely..

"But you wanna know the real reason?" Dean's face contorted into a real snarl. "Why I'm going to blow you're brains right out of your head?"

Mark took in a deep breath and whimpered as he opened his eyes and looked at up at his captor. Dean knew what he was thinking. It's self explanatory isn't it? He's beaten his brother up. What else could it be?

Dean grinned and his eyes were full of malice. "Sam is my lover."

Satisfaction flowed through Dean as he watched the sheer bewilderment and shock on Mark's face.

Dean pulled the trigger and walked away.

People passed by looking oddly at them. Sam could hear someone calling his name but he was too far gone to react. He was on his knees curled up in a ball, the searing pain through his head made it impossible to move.

"Sam!" Jo said with both urgency and compassion. She was on her knees beside him. "Sam, what can I do?" She wasn't sure what was happening, but she knew Sam had visions and she was pretty sure that was what's going on.

"Is he having some kind of seizure?" one of the passer by's asked. "Do you want me to call 911?"

Jo looked up. "No! I…I mean yes he is, but no you don't need to call an ambulance."

Sam was starting to make sounds now, and he was starting to realize he was in the middle of a very public street, on his knees and groaning. He was dazed and in pain, but he managed to get to his feet.

Jo took his arm and put it around her shoulder. He really didn't want her help. He didn't want to lean on her, but he had no other choice.

She led him to sit down at a near by bus shelter and just watched him with concerned eyes. "Sam?"

Sam rubbed his hands up and down his face, trying to get some sort of focus. "We need to get to him. We need to get to him fast."

"Dean?" Jo asked, but she already knew the answer.

"He's going to do it," Sam looked at her with fear in his eyes. "We have to find him before…" Sam's face screwed up with pain as he stood. "Lets go!"

They were almost running now and unlike before, Sam's injuries were troubling him. The pores of his skin had opened and the sweat from the exertion was dripping salt into the burnt and blistered holes.

Sam stopped suddenly. There was a look of concentration on his face.

"What?" Jo was annoyed and a bit breathless.

"He's not at the clubhouse," Sam said. "Not yet."

Sam closed his eyes, watching the vivid memories of the vision flash behind them. "This way," he said, grabbing Jo by the arm and heading in the opposite direction.

Sam was in pain, a lot of pain, but that didn't stop him. It couldn't. He needed to get to Dean before it was too late.

"How do you know?" Jo asked trying to keep up with Sam's pace. "I…I mean how can you be so sure?"

Sam just shot her a look and sighed. "He's closing in on Mark. I saw the name of a hotel."

"So how do you know where it is? I mean…"

"Jesus Jo! I just do, okay?" Sam snapped, because he wasn't even sure how he knew which way to go. It's like he had some sort radar when it came to Dean.

"So is that a brother's instinct, or a lover's?" Jo asked harshly, eyes glaring.

It was the first time she had brought it up since the truck and Sam didn't answer her. He just quickened his pace.

When they finally reached the hotel Sam knew was the one from his vision, he could hardly walk. Jo had been asking him if he was okay, she could see the sweat beading off his face and knew that it was sheer determination that kept him moving.

The salt in his wounds stung so badly now that he was actually nauseous and he wished he had the forethought to have brought his creams. "He's here," Sam told Jo and Jo just stared at him.

The bar was empty save for an old bearded man sitting on a stool. It was still fairly early and he looked like this was his second home.

Looking around Sam spotted the side exit. He knew that it would be just like Dean to find some sort of poetic justice in dragging Mark out to the alley to kill him.

"This way," Sam said already half way to the door. Jo followed.

"Dean?" Sam said just above a whisper.

Dean turned his head but didn't move. "Go away, Sam. This guy deserves to die. He's worse than a demon; at least they have an excuse," Dean gritted out. He's supposed to have a soul."

Jo couldn't help but notice the look that passed between them.

Sam stood taller and more in control than she had seen him all day. Dean still had the gun in Mark's mouth.

Her heart skipped a beat when she heard the softness in Sam's words. "Things will never be the same if you do this, Dean."God Dean he's right. Please don't. She wanted to say it out loud. To add her voice to the plea that he not become a murderer.

Their bond was obvious as their eyes stayed locked. Jo struggled to name the other element she could see in their eyes, before she realized it was a look that only lovers could share.

She drew in a sharp breath. She could contemplate being jealous later; right now they had to get Dean to back off.

Taking a couple of steps forward, Jo froze when Sam's head turned towards her sharply. His face all too clear and easy to read. Don't you dare come closer. This is between me and him. Stay back. Mine.

Nodding, Jo understood that Sam was the only one with any real chance of talking Dean down.

"Sam." Dean's voice was cracking as he repositioned his fingers around the gun. "I want them to die for what they put you through,"

Mark moaned in fear and looked up, his eyes clearly begging for his life.

"Don't you think I want that too?" Sam asked. "But if we become Judge, Jury and Executioner… Then fuck, Dean. We are the KKK. We're no better… Dean," Sam said again, his name like a plea.

Jo could almost tell the very second Sam had Dean in his pocket. Dean rocked back on his heels and Jo could tell he didn't want to admit it, but his brother had made an impact.

"Dean," Sam said, this time scrunching his eyes. Pain was evident on his face.

Dean's brow furrowed. "Sammy?"

When Sam doubled over, Dean took a step back and uncocked his gun. "This is your lucky day you son of a bitch. Get out of here." Dean jutted his chin. "Before I change my mind," he added with venom.

He was on his knees and holding Sam, before Jo could even blink.

Something twisted deep inside of her. She couldn't tell if it was her stomach or heart, it was just an unconscious acceptance. Thank god Dean loved Sam enough to change his mind. Thank god.

Dean had Sam's arm slung around his shoulder. Sam was conscious, but barely. "Please Sammy, just a little bit further."

Dean could almost feel the pain radiating through every pore in Sam's body and all Dean could think about was getting him into a cooling bath.

Dean slowly laid Sam down on the bed. He quickly made his way to the bathroom and started to fill the tub. He was so grateful the room had a bath, he wasn't sure if he could hold Sam up in a shower.

"Dean don't do it, please don't do it," Sam screamed, the pain making him delirious.

Dean rushed to his side and got him out of his blood soaked clothes as quickly as he could. Sam was in pain, but there was also the beginings of a fever. Dean was scared that infection would set in. "Come on little brother; let's get you into the bath."

Dean finally got Sam's jeans off. The pain caused Sam to flail, making it hard for Dean to get him to stand. Dean couldn't get him to walk, either as Sam just stood there, sweat and blood dripping from his wounds.

"Please, Dean," Sam begged as he flung his arms around Dean's neck. "If you kill him they'll take you away. They'll take you away from me."

"No one is taking me away, Sam," Dean said soothingly, trying to maneuver him forward. He finally took a step, but he had a death grip on Dean. "Don't leave me, Dean. Please don't leave me."

Dean's heart melted with the words and he realized for the first time how scared Sam had been. Sure it was about him not becoming a murderer, but there was more to this than just the moral dilemma. "Not killing anyone, Sammy. I promise."

"Don't Sam," Dean said trying to hold Sam still, keeping him submerged in the bath water. Sam was struggling, cursing and doing his best to get out. Dean did the only thing he could think of and he got in with him, using his body weight to keep him still.

Dean was worried that his clothes would scratch up against his brothers already open sores. When Sam started to buck and moan in pain, he was sure of it.

"Sam please, just stay still and I'll get off okay."

"No!" Sam said grabbing his arm hard enough to bruise. "Please don't go."

Dean could feel the zipper of his jeans rubbing hard against Sam. He leant down to whisper into Sam's ear. "If you promise to stay still Sammy, promise to stay in the water, I'll get rid of these scratchy clothes and get back in. Okay?"

Sam had calmed down since Dean had laid on him and although Dean wasn't sure if he really knew what he was doing, Dean trusted his brother when he nodded.

He quickly removed the offending clothing and got back into the bath.

"Up here," Sam said when Dean settled himself at the other end of the tub.

Sam was still hot to the touch and Dean wondered briefly if he knew what he was saying, but when Sam opened his eyes for the first time and grinned at him, Dean felt his heart skip a beat.

Tentatively Dean moved to lay across his brother, bringing them into line with each other. em God I miss this. /em

Sam moaned as Dean's cock brushed against his own and he wondered if this was a good idea.

When Sam's cock gave a violent jump he felt himself stiffen. "Sam?" He couldn't do this, not with Sam in so much pain.

"I want you," Sam slurred and that was it, Dean's cock was doing a happy dance.

"Sam, please. We can't do this. Not now. Not yet."

"Please," Sam begged and Dean automatically covered his lips with his own. "God Sam, I…I don't want to hurt you," Dean breathed around the kiss.

Sam inserted his tongue and deepened the kiss, urgently seeking out the warmth and wetness of his brother's mouth.

Dean's heart pounded out of his chest when Sam's hand sought out and found the hole to his entrance.

"Jesus!" Dean jumped.

He could feel Sam smile against his mouth as he slowly inserted his index finger to the first knuckle. "I can't fuck you with my dick, but hell Dean, I can still fuck you."

Dean was still unsure when he involuntarily bucked forward and Sam's head flew back, hitting hard against the porcelain. "Shit! Sam?"

Starting to take his own weight with his hands Dean started to retreat from Sam's body. "I'm sorry, shit!"

Sam's eyes rolled back in his head. "Me too," he panted.

It wasn't until Dean was all but off of his brother that he saw the milky white substance float to the top of the water.

Dean met Sam's eyes with a grin. "Guess it's been a while, huh?"

Sam blushed and placed his fingers around Dean's wrist. "Get back here."

"No, Sam, bathing in your cum, man. Gross."

Sam lowered his head as Dean got out and dried himself. "Here, let me help you," he said, offering Sam a hand.

Sam took it and allowed himself to be guided to a standing position. He was still weak and unsteady . Dean put his arm around his waist as he lifted his foot over the rim of the bath.

Sam fell into Dean's waiting arms and smiled against his brother's neck. "Your turn."

Dean looked up at Sam and seeing the love and lust in his eyes, he knew he was totally screwed. He'd wanted this for so long he could hardly breathe.

Sam shakily led Dean into the bedroom and laid down. "Please, Dean," he said reaching out in a gesture for Dean to join him on the bed.

Dean lay down, carefully positioning himself along side of his brother. "You know I want to, Sam, but…"

"No buts," Sam said taking Dean's mouth with his own. "I want you inside of me."

Dean glanced down at Sam's groin; his sores were red and angry. "Wait," he said pulling away.

"No, Dean. Please." Sam begged.

"Just wait," Dean said as he rose from the bed and went to the duffle bag. "You may already have an infection, you've got a fever. I just want to make sure it doesn't get any worse."

He pulled the burn creams out of the bag and returned to Sam's side. Sam reached out but Dean tapped his hand away. "Let me," he said as he squeezed a generous amount onto his palm.

Sam looked deeply into Dean's eyes as he slowly and cautiously began to smear the first cream over his blistered lower body.

Dean's touch was gentle and it boarded on being too soft. "This okay, Sammy?" Dean asked as he glided his hand along the underside of Sam's cock.

Sam's cock started to harden again. "God yes."

Dean smiled. He so wanted to take Sam's length into his mouth and just suck and kiss him until he came again. He missed tasting Sam, but he knew it would still be a while before his saliva and the heat of his mouth wouldn't hurt him.

"I'm glad you didn't kill him," Sam said breathlessly. His voice was somewhere between ecstasy and agony.

"Me too." Dean grinned at his own admission.

Sam moaned and Dean started to chuckle.

"What's so funny?" Sam said slightly annoyed.

Dean's smile was wide. "It's just… In the alley, back there. The way you scared me when you went down."

Sam tilted his head in a question.

"Well, I was just thinking... It's a wonder Jo didn't pick up on things, ya know?"

"Things?" Sam asked, confused.

"Yeah. You and me." Dean motioned between them.

Sam's cheeks reddened. "Ahh… yeah, Dean. Ummm… about that…

THE END

AN: For all of you who have stuck with this or have read it from woe to go. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.