Title: Know When to Fold 'EM
Author:feather_touch & scarlettraven9
Genre: Slash/Wincest
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Sam; Sam/OMC
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers : For anything up to and including Season 5 episode 7 (specifics for that episode).

Summary: Sam plays a game Dean's life and both brothers discover truths and wants about themselves they both thought long gone.

Series: none
Disclaimer: Not ours, just borrowing from Kripke.

A/N: This story is dedicated as a late birthday present to my dear friend heatherofnight. She is the best! I was so excited that feather_touch liked my plot bunny and agreed to write with me. She is one of my favorite writers and it was such a treat to work with her. I look forward to doing another project with her. I would like to thank our wonderful beta jadesterling And a big thanks to thrutterryseyes for her wonderful story banner!

A/N:Thanks to scarlettraven9 for working on this with me and for the great idea! For those of you waiting on an update to Forever Bound, the next chapter is being beta'd right now, it'll be up soon.

This story is complete, we just aren't sure how many chapter it'll end up being divided into.

Warnings: Bottom!Sam, D/s, mild non-con, Wincest

Chapter 1

Sam walked nervously towards the warehouse where he was to play Patrick. It was all a rouse, so that Bobby and Dean had time to perform the reversal spell. That and he had to get some of Patrick's DNA. It was a tall order, considering Patrick was sharp and a damn good poker player.

Sam worried that he wouldn't be able to hold his own against Patrick but really they had no other choice. He had to take the chance, it was the only one they had.

They had. The past few weeks Sam had been thrilled that he and Dean had become closer again. In fact he had hoped to eventually find a way back into his brother's arms. He missed the security he felt there, the acceptance. Hell had ripped that all away and now he felt close to regaining part of what he had lost. He couldn't lose it now, he just couldn't.

Sam took a deep calming breath as he approached the warehouse doors and shook the tension out of his shoulders like he would for a sparring match which was fitting because this felt like a sparring match—of the minds. Sam had shown up a bit early in hopes of watching and learning a bit about his opponent.

Dean and Bobby had given him as much information as they could but it was always better to catch a player in action to learn his habits. Sam was no rookie when it came to poker and he just hoped that he could fool Patrick on that end. It would be his only ace up his sleeve.

He opened the warehouse doors and immediately heard voices. One was definitely Patrick's and the other seemed to belong to an older person. There was a shake to it and an uncertainty. The possibility that Sam might witness someone lose their life almost made him tuck tail and run. But he had to suck it up and be strong in order to win, he couldn't let his feelings for the innocents in the world interfere this time.

As he got closer he could tell that they were in the middle of a hand. The man betting was already old and trying to get back some years like Cliff the man they had meet a few days ago. It made sense really, the way Patrick was able to play the elderly. What did they have to lose and the gain...

Sam stopped behind the man and was surprised that no one acknowledged him. Both the elderly man and Patrick were totally wrapped up in the hand.

The older man definitely didn't have years to lose. If he lost his hand then he would die and that fact made Sam very sad and hopeful that the man might have Cliff's luck, though it was doubtful. Sam could see the twinkle in Patrick's eyes; the elder man had a decent hand. Two nines, they could easily be beat, it was not looking good.

The elderly man looked nervously at his hand and then said, "Bet."

Sam held his breath and waited to see how this played out.

Patrick smiled and cleared his throat. "I sense you've got me by the jewels on this one, Ash," Patrick sighed. "I fold."

Sam let out a relieved breath and looked at Patrick who was now smiling at him.

Patrick laid down his cards as Ash pulled the chips towards him. Watching Sam, Patrick spoke. "What, you're up thirteen years there Ash? What do you say we call it a day?"

Ash smiled. "Thanks Patrick."

Patrick gave Sam his full attention. "Ash here is gonna live to see his granddaughter's bat mitzvah, isn't that right Ash?"

Ash began to get out of his chair. "Thanks again, Patrick."

"Shalom my friend, shalom," Patrick replied as the older man left.

"That was nice of you," Sam said, shifting nervously. He had hoped for more time watching his opponent.

Patrick shrugged. "I'm a nice guy. What can I do you for?"

Moving forward, Sam took a seat. "Deal."

Sam thought he was playing pretty well against Patrick, he was at least holding his own. The witch had tried to distract him with small talk and Sam wasn't shocked when the talk turned a little more personal.

Patrick smirked. "I like you, Sam. I do. You're smart, and your heart is clearly in the right place. I can tell a lot about a guy by looking."

Sam watched as Patrick took the toothpick out of his mouth and sat it down. He had decided if he could snag the toothpick it would have all the DNA that they needed for the spell, the trick would be to take it. He had worked out with Lia, Patrick's girl, she would provide a distraction when the moment was right.

Trying to keep up with the toothpick without giving away his plans, he indulged Patrick in his psycho babble.

Sam shrugged and spoke. "You mean you're psychic?"

Patrick shook his head. "No, that would be cheating. I'm talking about good, old-fashioned intuition."

Sam huffed, he'd had enough of Patrick's mind games. "Right. Let's just play."

"We are playing." Patrick smiled, taking a drink.

Sam eyed the glass as he put it down. The glass could work…

Patrick took a drink and Sam eyed the glass as he put it down. The glass could work if he can't grab the toothpick.

Sam's attention was pulled from the glass by Patrick's next question. "Does your big brother know you're here?"

Trying his best to ignore Patrick's mind games Sam picked up some chips. "Bet five." He tossed them in.

"Didn't think so," Patrick smiled. "I raise."

Sam looked at his hand, trying to keep his head as he struggled to block out Patrick's comments. He moved more chips in the pot.

Patrick gave him a hard stare and spoke. "Here you are, right? Trying to clean up their mess. And they still wanna sit you at the kiddie table. You're not the little brother anymore, Sam."

Sam continued to try and block out Patrick's taunts. The witch definitely knew which buttons to push and it was hard to ignore him as he smirked and played with his chips waiting for Sam to answer.

Patrick stopped playing with the chips and spoke again. "Then again, maybe you are. You're in over your head here, Sam. I mean, you can keep making these moves. You know – playing it cautious. Playing in percentages. But I'm still gonna kick your ass into the nursing home."

Sam broke, not able to keep the anger at bay anymore. "Does this armchair psychology usually work for you?"

He winced as Patrick laughed and replied. "You tell me. You're the one who's losing."

It was a big relief when Lia walked in. Sam wasn't sure how much longer he could have stalled playing cautiously against Patrick. Sam watched as Patrick stopped shuffling when his lady love appeared.

Patrick smiled at her and put the toothpick down. It was the moment that Sam was waiting for and he prayed that Patrick would fall for their little plan.

"Little break?" Patrick asked, winking at Sam.

Sam nodded tightly and slowly moved to get out of the chair as the pair in front of him embraced. He tried to give them privacy while moving swiftly to snag the toothpick.

It is with much relief that he made it outside with the toothpick and found Dean.

Dean moved quickly toward him. "How's it going in there?"

Sam huffed, "How do you think it's going? What about you, you have everything you need?"

Dean sighed. "We still need a little he-witch DNA."

Sam had hoped that Dean and Bobby had had time to get back up DNA from Patrick's apartment. The toothpick had to work.

He held up a toothpick. "He was chewing it. Hurry up Dean. Please."

Dean gave him a concerned look. "Alright. Just keep him busy. And Sammy? Don't lose."

Sam nodded tightly and moved back inside.

It was very hard to return to that table and face Patrick again. The witch was the best player he'd ever seen and in time he would have Sam beat and Sam knew it.

Sitting down across from Patrick, Sam tried to school his face and erase all his worry.

Patrick looked at Sam. "Question." He pulled a toothpick out his jacket. "Is this what you meant to give your big brother?"

Sam swallowed hard but didn't reply, not sure of what to say.

"The one you gave him never passed my lips. Won't do a scrap of good." He tossed the toothpick at Sam. "I don't like cheating, Sam."

Sam felt his stomach clinch up in fear. He'd been busted and Dean was domed. He saw the anger in Patrick's eyes and knew that the powerful witch could easily kill him. Maybe that was for the best if he couldn't cure Dean. Patrick reached his hand out and Sam instantly lost his breath as an invisible hand tightened around his throat.

He saw stars dancing in his vision but in his fog, he still heard voices.

Lia was pleading for him. "Stop it! Patrick! Let him go!"

The grasp loosened and he heard Patrick's response. "He tried to kill us!"

Taking a deep breath he heard Lia pleading her case. "I did it! I gave him the spell."

With those words Patrick stopped his assault on Sam. "What?" He stood up and took her face in his hands. "Why – why would you do that?"

Sam greedily sucked in air as Lia replied to Patrick. "You know why," she said, fingering her locket again. "You know." Patrick looked at the locket for a second, then sat down.

Sam barely had his breath under control when Patrick angrily barked at him. "Keep playing." He sighed and hoped that this once he could be a poker ace.

Determined to win, Sam put down some chips.

"Well look at you! The percentage player betting the farm," Patrick says. "Awful transparent of you, Sam. I mean, if I had a monster hand like you have – I'd trap you. But you get yourself so excited, you bet yourself right out of a big pot."

Sam tried to keep his face blank and didn't reply.

Patrick set down his cards. "I fold. Set of ladies, I'm guessing."

Sam ignored him and pulled in his chips and showed his cards. Two Fives. He had bluffed the witch and it felt good. Scary but good.

"Nice bluff," Patrick said. "If we had time, I could make a real player out of you."

Sam frowned at that comment. "I've got time."

Patrick smiled. "Maybe. But I can't say the same for Dean. Your brother's gonna be dead soon. And when I say soon, I mean minutes."

Sam panicked. It couldn't be true. Not Dean, not now.

Sam panicked. It couldn't be true. Not Dean, not now. He started to get up and Patrick raised a hand, stopping him by force. "The game's not over till I say it is. Blinds."

Patrick threw out two cards, and Sam did the same, quickly. "So. When it's about your brother, you get so emotional your brain just flies right out the window," Patrick said. "Good to know."

"Go to Hell," Sam snapped.

"Feisty one are we? But I get it, your brother and your life is on the line. I like you Sam I really do, so much so I did some checking. I knew that you had to be hunters so I did a little digging, Sam and Dean as in Winchester?" Patrick paused and stared at Sam.

"I'll answer all your questions after the game, Dean doesn't have time for me to wait playing fifty questions with you." Sam replied angrily.

"Tsk, Tsk, but the answer to that question could save Dean. If you are Sam Winchester, I'm willing to fold my cards and let you win back Dean's years, for a small price." Patrick was smirking now.

"Fine, I'm Sam Winchester, but what does that have to do with this poker game and what kind of deal are you talking about because I won't let Lucifer win." Sam replied thickly trying to keep his emotions at bay.

"I can fold Sam, just like I did for Ash and you can win the years. I'm not working for Lucifer, you should know that I'm all about what I can do for me. I live a lavish lifestyle and while the poker games pay for some of it, I do trade in illegal or hard to get goods to make a very good living. You my friend, with your demon blood are very much a wanted commodity in the witch market. Your blood could super charge spells and do so much more. So the deal I'm prepared to make to you... let me have you for one month. I get to use you in anyway I see fit and at the end of it all you will be set free. In the meantime, Dean will be healthy and alive. If you welsh on the deal well, then I can't guarantee Dean's health. Do you understand?"

Sam felt his head spinning, this was all happening so fast. He wanted to think about it but he knew he didn't have the luxury of time. Dean's life was in the balance.

"I will accept but, I refuse to do harm to others." Sam tried to keep his voice from quivering, it was very frightening to think about letting another person own him.

"Done Sam, no worries on that. I need you for deals and maybe as a wing man in the bars but I will not make you directly responsible for some one's death. Shake on it and your brother will be back to himself." Patrick held out a hand and Sam took it feeling it almost pulling the heat from his body.

Once Patrick released his hand he smiled. "A good deal Sam, I tell ya and not a moment to soon. Your brother was definitely on death's doors."

Sam swallowed hard. This was insane but as long as Dean was okay he could live with it. He looked at Lia, who gave him a sympathetic look.

Patrick then gave Lia his attention and motioned at Sam to leave. "Sam wait for me at the car. I need to talk to Lia."


Dean hopped to the car, grin firmly placed on his face. Gosh it felt good to be his old self again, scratch that his younger self. Just moments earlier he was on death's door with a failing heart and now things were back to normal. It made him want to celebrate with a big fat burger.

But first things first, he needed to check on Sam to see that everything was okay on his end.

After joining Bobby in the van, he quickly hit speed dial on his cell and waited for Sam to pick up.

"Dean, are you okay?" Sam sounded nervous and upset.

"Yeah, back to normal dude. So you won huh?" Dean couldn't help but scratch his head at that question.

"I did win the final hand of poker. So are you sure you're okay?" Sam's voice still held a note of concern.

Dean shook his head, his little brother had out played a pro. "I'm better than good Sammy. How about we meet you at the motel room and celebrate?"

Sam chuckled. "Sure man, sounds like a plan. We could get some pizza."

Dean lit up at the mention of food. "Yeah, sounds really good. Pick up some beer would ya?"

"You got it Dean. And ... uh... I'm glad you're okay." Sam replied quietly.

"I'll be even better when you get to the room with the beer! See ya soon." Dean could tell this whole thing had taken a toll on his brother by the kid's tone. It would do them all good to have a night to eat, drink and be merry.

"Yeah, see ya soon." Sam's voice was still quiet and a bit unsettled when he ended the call.

Dean felt his stomach clinch a bit uneasily but he let it go and chalked his nervousness up to the whole messed up night.

"Sam win?" Bobby's voice brought Dean out of his thoughts of Sam.

"Yeah, believe it or not, he beat the man-witch. He's grabbing beer and meeting us at the motel. We need to order pizza when we get in." Dean wasn't as hungry as before and knew he wouldn't feel better until he reunited with his geeky brother.

"Huh, imagine that. Well, let's head back. I'm starving." Bobby grumbled.

"Yeah, sounds like a plan." Dean replied trying to keep the worry from his voice.


Sam had just made it outside the warehouse when his phone rang. It had been really good to hear Dean's voice and it had taken away any lingering concern he had for his brother. Dean was back to normal, so it made everything that had happened tonight worth it. Lying to Dean had been the worst part, but he really couldn't see any other way. Sam needed some time to escape with Patrick before Dean got wise.

Focusing on what needed to be done, Sam headed over to the Impala. He opened the trunk and took out a duffel that contained emergency clothes. They always kept extra clothes in the car in case they had to flee a job. Once he had his clothes, Sam placed his cell phone and his set of keys in the trunk and shut it.

It was hard walking away from the Impala. It hadn't been that long ago since he had done this only with Dean's blessings. The separation had been hell and he had a feeling that this time wouldn't be much different. But it had to be done.

Taking a calming breath, he forced himself to move away from the Impala, his home. He slowly moved towards the small two-seater that Patrick had stolen the other day. He was puzzling over how the three of them were going fit in it when Patrick flung the back doors to the warehouse open. His face was red and blotchy. It looked like he had been crying but his features were set in a frown.

"So Sam, it's just you and me on this trip." Patrick's voice was stern.

"Okay, uh I grabbed extra clothes out of the Impala and I left my cell and keys in the trunk for Dean to find." Sam replied unsure of what to say.

"Alright then, we'll hit the hotel and I'll grab me some clothes and then we'll leave this town. Get in." Patrick replied as he opened the driver's side door.

Sam quickly obeyed and stuffed his belongings in the floor board of the car. It was a tight fit but he was able to do it. Just as he was buckling his seat belt, Patrick spoke again.

"So do I have to worry about that brother of yours following us?" Patrick quirked an eyebrow at Sam as he started the car.

"Uh not right away. I told him that I won the game and I'd grab some beer and meet him at the motel. So we have time to get your stuff before we head out. With my cell in the car, he won't be able to track me." Sam tried to speak calmly, keeping the worry from his voice.

"Good thinking, Sam. So, you'll have to help me plan the route to keep your brother off our trail, can't have him finding us before our month together is out, now can we?" Patrick's voice was light but his expression was anything but.

Sam swallowed hard. His new companion was very powerful and the thought of Dean finding them scared him. "Yeah, I'll help Patrick."

Patrick nodded. "Good boy, Sam. That's what I like to hear. Keep up this attitude and we'll get a long just fine, we will."

The car slowed as they pulled up to the hotel Patrick was staying in. The witch turned the car off and faced Sam.

"Sam, me boy, I have a big favor to ask. Lia isn't part of the plan anymore. She...." Patrick paused and took a deep breath. "Well let's just say that you're my partner in crime now. I would like it very much if you could go upstairs and pack for me? I don't think I could take looking at her stuff...." Patrick's voice trailed off and he looked away.

Sam guessed that Lia had decided to end it all. He couldn't blame her, a life like that had to be hard. Sam could see the loss was doing a number on Patrick and as much as he hated the man for what he had done to Dean, he still felt pity in his heart at the witch's loss.

"I can do that. Do you want anything besides your clothes? Pictures, or anything like that?" Sam asked softly.

Patrick turned, giving Sam a sad smile. "My clothes and she did have a box that she kept our keepsakes in. It should be on top of the dresser in a black wooden ornate box. If you could grab that too? As long as I have the box and some clothes, I'll be good."

Sam nodded and moved to get out of the car.

"Sam, just so you know. I have a month with you. That is thirty one days, and if you can't fulfill that time with me, then Dean goes back to the old folk's home. You understand that laddy, don'tcha?" Patrick's eyes were blazing a hole in him.

"I do understand." Sam wiped at his face nervously. "So, I'll hurry, we need to hit the road."

"Good boy." Patrick replied this time with a smile.