Turning Darkside (Inspired by Danny)

Ebbtide Cheque Tina c.


Sam looked up, his soulless eyes staring Dean against the wall. The elder Winchester fought against the gaze, the power behind it, but it was useless. He was trapped.

"Come on, Sammy! This isn't you!" He shouted, pushing against the invisible bonds holding him up against the motel wall. A desperation entered his voice. "It's not you."

Sam stood up and took a step towards his brother, a smirk twisting his face into a dark version of himself. "No? Then who is it, Dean? A demon…I am a demon."

The eyes blinked. Familiar color exchanged for the pure black.

"You see." Sam's voice is normal, no deep, dark fluctuations. It's almost a playful, sarcastic tone. "I am a demon. I am Sam."

Dean closed his eyes, willing his brain not to have heard or seen any the last ten seconds. Just a dream, he repeats to himself. An awful, horrible dream that I'll wake up from and Sam will be okay.

"You should have killed me, like Dad told you to." Sam smiled, showing his teeth. "You could have saved me from this, Dean."

Eyes still closed, the older man kept an internal monologue going, insisting to himself that this was not Sam. Never would this be his Sammy - his jaded little brother. This was a monster. A cruel, hateful shell of a being.

"You're not him." Dean forced between gasps for air. His lungs felt on fire as the force holding him against the wall squeezed tighter around him.

"I'm not?" The dark haired man laughed. "Of course I am!"

Panting now, Dean forces his body to respond. His arm feels like it weighs tons as he lifts it inch by shaking inch from the wall. He points at Sam.

"You're a demon, you bitch! Get out of my brother or I swear that I will kill you."

Sam's head cocks to one side and he tsks lightly under his breath. "What happened to all that brotherly love?" He flinched a finger forward and Dean's arm was slammed painfully against the wall, the shattering sound of bones breaking. "You really should learn to appreciate me, big brother."

"You aren't Sam!" Dean screamed, needing it to be the truth.

Black eyes blink back into existence. "Yes, I am. I've always been here, inside of him, just now he knows it."

"I don't believe you." Dean shook his head.

Sam shrugged, running his tongue over his lips. "It doesn't matter. Sam has been waiting a long time for this." He moved forward, closer to his helpless, older brother. "He's been waiting too long."

"What are you talking about?" Dean paled at the hungry look focused on his body. "Sam?"

"He wants you, Dean." The dark voice announces with a low, rumbling chuckle. "Wants you so bad."

Dean cannot stand to hear these words, their disturbed meaning only too obvious, and he turns his head away. This is not his brother - and there's no way in HELL this is a dream. He swallows hard at the realization that he will not be waking up.

He hears Sam come closer - or whatever is possessing his body - and then there are invasive touches to his body. The zipper on his jeans is forced down with a jerk. He freezes, his body going cold. There is no way that his younger brother is going to rape him. Dean bites his lip and prays, to a god he doesn't know, for deliverance. Not for himself, but for Sammy. Hands are touching him now.

There's no denying his body's response to certain sensations, he feels bile rise in his throat.

"Stop it." He pleads with the demented, sex-crazed body that is NOT his brother. "Please, stop."

Kisses rain down, butterfly soft, on his neck. His shirt is torn off in one swift movement followed by more kisses across his chest, touches ranging down his torso. He feels nothing except cold detachment. This is not Sam - but somewhere inside this monster his brother is being forced to watch, participate in a way. Dean aches for his brother's innocence…to rewind the day. How could he have not noticed something amiss? How long had Sam been possessed? It was all his fault, he had let this happen. Lowered his defenses too far at the wrong moment. Now they would both pay the price.

"Not - going - to - stop. Sam - wants this." The taller man gasped between frantic moans and touches.

Dean knew, without doubt or uncertainty, that his younger brother wanted nothing to do with these actions. It was all the made-up fantasy of some psycho-demon. He refused to believe differently.

The end, when it finally came, was anti-climatic and definitely more powerful for the attacker. Dean let his body react, but it meant nothing to him. He kept his eyes closed, mind shut off to what was happening to him. It was degrading, humiliating, frightening and most of all terrifying. It scared him to know that Sam would have to live with those memories. Two people were raped in that one act. He tried to stop the tears, but one snaked it's way down his face. He felt Sam's body get closer again and then a kiss was drying the tear from his neck.

"Ah, bitter-sweet." The dark voice emphasized the 'sweet'.

"Go to hell, you evil son-of-a-bitch." Dean bit out, voice thick with reigned in emotion. "I'm going to make you burn, bitch."

"Promises, promises." Sam laughed, tracing a finger up and down Dean's bare chest.

"You're not Sam." Dean said forcefully. "And I am going to get you out of him."

Sam pushed back from the wall and studied Dean with a soft smile. "Oh, yeah? How?"

There was no answer to that baiting question. Dean's eyebrows lowered in anger at the helplessness he felt. He couldn't even reach down to zip up his own damn pants. A growl escaped between clenched teeth.

"Oooh." Sam laughed. "Better watch it, Dean. Sam may want you, but I would much rather kill you."

"Take your best shot, you bastard." Dean spit out.

Sam shook his finger. "No. Not yet, anyway. I'm a part of Sam…I AM Sam, just a piece of his soul that's been left dormant far too long. I've looked out, when he thinks of you - when he dreams of you. Now I'm free and I don't think I'm ready to kill you just yet."

Sam turned and walked over to the bed.


Sam Winchester retreated further into his mind, numb from the images he had been forced to watch and the sensations that had made their way through the haze to where his consciousness was stuck. Exhaustion threatened to send him into darkness, but he fought against it with all his might. It had been so emotionally draining to watch the attack. Sam wanted to kill the demon possessing him.

Dean was slouched against the wall, having been released from the death-hold that had kept him standing during the abuse. Sam could see the closed-off expression on his brother face and knew that it was hiding a pain so deep Dean had to deny it. Sam knew that it was all his fault.

The demon had possessed him outside a local gas station two days before. Sam had spent every moment of those three long days fighting against the presence. To no avail. He was still trapped inside his own mind and now Dean had paid the price.

Sam wanted to die.

What his body had done to Dean - and those awful lies the demon had said - were too much. How could Dean ever forgive him? Assuming the elder Winchester survived long enough for Sam to find a way out.


Dean sat against the wall, his heart thudding painfully against his chest in a quick rhythm. He watched as Sam lay on the closest hotel bed, temporarily sated. It could not have really been Sam. Dean knew that it had to be a demon possession. He would never believe that his younger brother had just willingly raped him.

"You're going to rot in hell, bitch." Dean spat, his voice breaking even as he tried to hide his weakness. "For what you did to Sam."

The younger man smirked and brushed a long, dark bang out of his face. He rolled onto his side, leaning on one elbow so that he could stare down at Dean with those demon-black eyes. Obsidian orbs with no soul. The smirk grew and a low chuckle followed.

"I am Sam. When are you going to accept that, Dean?"

"My ass." Dean denied angrily. "You aren't him."

"Hmmm." Sam flopped back against the pillows, closing his eyes and relaxing his tall, lanky body. "We'll see…"

Panic gripped Dean and he swallowed. How was he going to get out of this one? No one knew where they were, not even Bobby and there was no back-up. Sam needed saving and Dean felt helpless. He had to think of something.

"Don't try anything, brother." Sam said, as if reading Dean's mind, opening one eye for a moment to glare at the elder Winchester. "I'm not in the mood." The eye snapped closed.


Sam listened to the exchange with growing fury. His fears were being replaced quickly by an anger that threatened to burst through the veil between his mental prison and his body. There had to be a way to access his powers - to use them to free both his brother and himself. Only one thing stopped him from trying to access those powers. They were dark, demon-spawned and maybe this demon was right. Maybe there really was a darkness stuck inside of him and the last thing Dean would want him to do would be to unleash that darkness. Not even for the right reasons. Sam settled back and tried to control his rage so that he could think. There had to be a way out of this mess.

He could no longer see his brother, but he knew that their captor's senses were on high alert. Dean wouldn't be able to take a breath without the demon knowing.


Dean settled back for a long wait as he tried to think of a way out of this impossibly screwed up situation. He could kick himself. All of this mess was his fault. He was the oldest, he should have known that there was something wrong. He could have stopped this all before it got so out of hand…before they were both destroyed.


Bela strolled casually down the sidewalk leading off to hotel rooms. Her green eyes were fixed on the black chevy Impala at the end of the lot. A sneer made it's way onto her face as she thought about what it must be like to drive in that thing. It was ugly and probably filled with empty soda bottles and food wrappers, if she knew the Winchester boys.

They had some payback coming, after that little business with the rabbit's foot and she would see that they got it. The sneer was replaced by a genuine smile. She was going to enjoy humiliating them.