Disclaimer: I don't own anything Supernatural or whatnot, it is all property of the CW11 network. So don't sue and please don't be offended by the language cause it's gonna be colorful to say the least.
Of Cruelty and Consequence
AU: Sam didn't die by Jake's hand, Yellow Eyed Demon did die by Dean's hand, Dean didn't make the deal and end up... you know where, and the brothers carry on hunting the Supernatural scum of the universe!!
Just the plot bunnies in my head working.
Warning: Implied Non-Con but no graphic description in this chapter.
Please go easy on me, this is my first crack at this particular category. I just thought I'd try my hand at it, please do not flame me, If you don't like it, don't read it please!!
The low rumble of a car engine rattled the chilly Rockford, Illinois air as a sleek black 1967 Chevy Impala thundered down the road.
While the car was making plenty of noise outside, inside the car was filled with cold silence and tension thick enough to cut with a knife.
From where he sat riding shotgun with a growing feeling of guilt, Sam Winchester discreetly let his eye travel across the car to driver's seat to silently eye a certain older brother behind the wheel.
Sam felt his heart both clench and sink at what he saw.
Dean Winchester's face was one of barely masked fury.
His eyes were two hard chips of icy jade that stared straight ahead at the road, absolutely refusing to look at anything else.
Mainly his one passenger.
Sam knew exactly what the cause of his brother's stony silence and anger.
The hunt they had just finished up.
One that should have gone off smoothly like so many others had after the fall of Yellow-eyes.
The one where he'd basically dropped the ball by miscalculating exactly where the Witch's layer had been.
The evil chrone had gotten the drop on them and had tossed Dean around like a rag-doll before Sam had managed to gun the bitch down, emptying his entire clip into her.
" I screwed up real bad."Thought Sam as he felt bile rise up and burn the back of his throat as his mind immediately thinking about what might have been.
Sam wanted nothing more than to open his mouth and speak, to apologize for not being more accurate, for going the wrong way and almost getting them killed tonight.
But, Sam kept his mouth firmly shut, remembering that Dean had made it very very clear that he was not in the "sharing, caring" kind of mood.
In addition, he had tried to speak earlier after they'd salted and burned the Witch's bullet ridden corps, when he'd all but parted his lips in the slightest, Dean had tightened his grip on the steering wheel to the point that his knuckles had turned white and coldly glanced at him briefly.
The glance had sent a clear message- " Don't you even dare to think about opening your mouth again."
And so, the two Winchester brothers sat in silence as Dean drove on in search of the nearest motel.
A good twenty minutes later...
Dean was glad beyond words that he was finally pulling up into a motel parking lot.
It was after all, the very wee hours of morning and he had some severely painful injuries that needed to be tended to.
As his very abused chest twinged and ached because of the many bruises and a few small cuts here and there, Dean felt the anger inside him spike as he thought about what had gone down and why he was in this current situation.
Mainly because the person sitting beside him had led them the wrong way.
Dean knew full well that Sam wanted to talk things out about what had happened.
But the older Winchester just did not want to listen to the excuses and the apologies.
Dean was just too tired and hurt to forgive and forget, right now he just wanted some pain killers and a bed to sleep on.
When they pulled up to the front office, Dean all but bolted out of the Impala before Sam could so much as ask to check them in.
Keeping his jacket closed so as not to terrify the person behind the desk cause yeah, his chest and the shirt over it were both torn and bloody messes, Dean quietly and quickly paid and took the key for a room.
Then he was out the door and climbing into the Impala without a sound towards Sam.
Not even telling his brother what their room number was like he usually did.
The Impala slowly cruised through the dark motel parking lot until Dean pulled the car into the vacant parking space in front of the room that was theirs.
Then, Dean was shutting the car off and getting out of the car once again, still giving Sam the silent treatment.
Sam sighed and felt a small spike of hurt course through him as he watched Dean get his bags out of the trunk and then walk right past the Impala and into the motel room without waiting for his brother.
Sam pulled himself out of the car and dejectedly trudged to the trunk to get his own things.
Once he'd hefted the last bag over his shoulder he followed after his brother's long cold footsteps into the motel room, actually thankful that the door was open.
With Dean's current mood, Sam wouldn't have put it past his brother to lock him out physically in addition to having already done so emotionally.
As the younger Winchester brother disappeared into the motel room with his shoulder slumped in defeat, in the shadows and the darkness, going unnoticed by the two demon hunting brothers...
A being of evil gazed at it's two unsuspecting targets, fury and vengeance burning bright in it's glowing, hate filled crimson eyes.
Those two were going to pay dearly for killing it's Mistress.
They would pay this very night.
And she would reap the end results when the time was right.
Sam stepped over the threshold, the door closing behind him with a soft click.
Dean didn't turn from where he was unpacking items from one of his bags at the foot of the queen-sized bed closest to the bathroom.
Sam shifted on his feet for a second before he silently walked over to the remaining queen closest to the window.
He set his backpack down and set about digging through it much like Dean was.
Then with a steadying breath, Sam turned to gaze at his brother and spoke.
" Dean-" He began when said brother cut him off before he could finish his sentence by glaring back at him as he spoke.
" I call shower." Growled Dean curtly before he grabbed up some clothes and the med-kit and all but flew into the bathroom before Sam could say anything else, the light turning on and the door slamming after he'd crossed the threshold.
Sam sighed and gazed at the now closed door of the bathroom with guilt and self-loathing threatening to drown him.
The younger brother was at a loss as to what he could do to fix things between him and Dean.
Meanwhile, inside the bathroom...
Dean Winchester bit back a groan as he gingerly stripped off his shirts.
The dark button-up shirt was more or less salvageable.
The T-shirt he'd been wearing underneath was a bloody, torn-up mess destined for the trash-bin.
With a small hiss, Dean turned to the bathroom sink and eyed himself in the mirror that hung above it.
Dean grimaced as he beheld his bruised and slightly cut up upper body. Thankfully, none of the cuts needed stitches.
Anger flared up inside him once again at those responsible.
Anger mostly at the lust demon bitch and a small portion zeroed in on a certain little brother.
He was definitely giving Sam some hell for what had gone down tonight.
It was a rookie mistake what Sam had done, totally unacceptable.
With a grumble, Dean set about divesting himself of the rest of his clothing and stepped into the shower.
Thankfully, the water was hot and with good enough pressure, it was soothing against his bruises and many cuts.
After a good soak and thoroughly cleaning all of his injuries with soap, Dean shut off the shower and stepped out.
Once he'd toweled himself dry he turned back to the sink, reaching for the med-kit he'd set down on it when he'd first stepped inside the bathroom.
He'd just opened the kit with a soft click when he looked back up at his reflection in the mirror.
His heart jolted and then slammed to a cold stop at what he saw.
In the mirror was a second reflection, a deathly pale woman with raven black hair, and her eyes were glowing blood red as she smirked at him with evil and malice, a grotesque sight for anyone to behold.
And it meant that it was behind him!
Dean was whirling around to face the threat in a spilt second, but that was all he managed to do before the demonic woman's hands were on him, her bony, long nailed fingers digging into both of his temples.
Dean opened his mouth to yell out for Sam as loud as his lungs could manage but the scream came out as a choked off gasp as white hot fire ignited at his temples and lanced through his head before spreading throughout his whole body.
The creature grinned as she leaned in close to Dean's right ear and spoke.
" Take him. You know you want to." Was all she whispered.
" N-." Dean began to whisper in dismay, but with another gasp the rest of his resistance was incinerated away as the heat coursing through his body intensified ten fold.
The creature smiled in vile satisfaction, her glowing red eyes flashing as she exacted her curse on the victim currently trapped in her jagged finger nailed grasp and the as of yet unsuspecting second victim just outside the bathroom door.
Then, once her eyes returned to there original glow, she released Dean and watched him sink to his knees in a boneless heap on the bathroom floor.
She eyed him with cold disinterest and a mocking sneer before she melted away into the shadows and out of the motel room all together just as silently and as unnoticed as when she had first entered, taking dark pleasure in the knowledge of the pain and sorrow she would be responsible for in the near future as she did so.
Meanwhile, beyond the bathroom door, totally oblivious to all that had just transpired...
Sam sat over the edge of his bed with his back to the bathroom as he stared forlornly out the window at the darkness of the night.
He'd stripped off his jacket and button up shirt, his boots tucked neatly beside his duffel bag as he waited for his brother to finish up with his shower, hoping Dean spared him some hot water.
Suddenly, a dull throbbing heat stabbed through his abdomen and the spread to his lower regions. If that in itself was not cause for alarm, after a few seconds the intense heat abruptly turned frigidly cold.
Sam gasped at this foreign sensation, his hands flying to his stomach as he stared down at them with wide, confused eyes.
" What the Hell?" Thought Sam as the cold sensation continued.
Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the sensation within his body simply vanished, as though it had never even happened.
Sam sat with befuddled fear coming off of him in waves.
With fumbling, nervous hands he pulled up his shirt to eye his stomach.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
It looked the way it always looked smooth and flat as ever.
Sam was so distracted by what had just happened to him and trying to figure it out that he didn't hear the bathroom door slowly open behind him with a soft squeak.
He was so freaked, he didn't notice the pair of maddened eyes boring holes into the back of his head.
From where he sat, Sam was in the full grip of panic.
He was about to turn and yell for his brother for help when out of nowhere, hard steel-like arms were wrapping around his neck in a bruising head-lock that all but crushed his trachea and cut off his ability to breathe.
The youngest Winchester's hands instinctively shot up to claw at his attacker's arms.
He had enough time to let out a chocked sputter before he was being viciously yanked backwards clear off the bed.
Sam found himself slammed onto his back on the motel room floor, the wind knocked forcibly from his lungs.
He was dimly aware of the hand wrapped around his throat like a vice and that there was another hand tightly pinning his right wrist to the scratchy motel carpet.
Whoever was holding him down had forced his legs apart and was kneeling between them.
Sam blinked away the stars dancing across his eyes and when his vision cleared, he finally gazed upon his attacker's face and when he did, his eyes grew wide in shock and the beginnings a full, all consuming terror.
Through his strangled vocal cords, Sam managed to push out one hissed out word.