Date: Tue, 16 May 2006 21:07:59 -0400 From: Miss Meehan Subject: Becoming - Chapter 6 I'd like to thank Quino27 for bailing me out of a plot hole I fell into. A few were upset about the shooting and called me on it. I come from the Smallville school of writing folks. Make stuff up and hope people will swallow it. Anyway, in this chapter I try to right a wrong. This is my story and I'm sticking to it. Warnings and Disclaimers: See chapter 1 John focused and let his training kick in. He berated himself for not assessing the situation or heeding Missouri's warning. His surprise at seeing Sam changed despite the knowledge he had going into the situation coupled with Missouri's warning had put the seasoned hunter off his game. Dean had moved so fast, almost unnaturally fast. That coupled with the suped up gun and rock salt bullets he'd had made by a gun manufacturer who was forever grateful for saving his daughter from a ritual sacrifice to a fertility god, led to the night's disaster. John had promised Missouri he wouldn't seek out his sons until he talked to her again. His next step was a little recon work. He quickly gathered the boys' belongings before the police showed up. Not that there was much chance of that happening in dives like the one his boys were staying at. Past experience taught John that in places like this, most residents had a vested interest in keeping a low profile. That meant minding your own business and steering clear of the authorities. Just in case there was a do-gooder who heard the shots and thought it was their civic duty to report it, John moved decisively and quickly. He gathered the laptop, his diary and both duffel bags and threw them into the back of his car. Then he quickly sifted through his key ring and found the spare key to dean's Impala. John and Dean each kept a spare of the other's car key for emergencies and tonight definitely qualified as one. Trying to prevent a link between Dean's car and the ruckus in the room, he drove the car about a quarter mile up the same stretch of road that led him to the motel in the first place. He didn't have to go far to find a turnoff and stashed the car well into the thicket. He then double timed it back to the motel, did a quick final sweep of the room before heading for the main office. Seeing a disinterested clerk watching the television, told him that nothing had been reported. "We're checking out of room 303," he said casually. The clerk glanced at his logbook, gave him a total and took the money without sparing him a glance. Under other circumstances, John wouldn't have bothered to pay, but he needed to make sure no one would be looking for his sons for any reason and that as he suspected, the clerk wasn't the chatty type that memorized faces. John got back in his own car and drove to where he'd stashed Dean's. He wanted desperately to call his sons and make sure they were okay but Missouri said she had a hunch she needed to do some follow up on based on his rather hysterical account of what had happened earlier. He'd promised to listen to her and wait for further instructions. John thought it funny that in spite of what he knew and saw tonight, he still thought of Sam as his own son. He only hoped that Sam would forgive him for his irrational behavior and his attempt to kill him. ??? Missouri gathered the books and research they'd gotten from the library and poured over several passages and her notes while she waited for John's call. So many things were beginning to make sense. 'Why didn't I see it before,' she muttered as she copied down certain passages from the text to her notes. John's brief recount of Sam's transformation, the black wings and Dean's amazing speed as he tried to shield his brother shed new light on the theories she and John had. By his own words, John admitted that Dean had moved faster than he'd ever seen anyone move before. Flipping through the notes she jotted down about Mary's pregnancy, the nightmares she had before, the circumstances of how John and Mary met, she knew she and John had been right in their conclusions regarding Sam; that his birth was a result of Mary being impregnated by an incubus. Missouri recalled reading in one volume that she wasn't allowed to borrow, that some believed the coupling of a human and an incubus produced offspring with supernatural powers. Merlin of the King Arthur legends was rumored to be the result of such a union. "Sam's wings were black," she said, biting on the tip of the pen she'd been writing with. She scribbled down the words 'pure blood, royalty.' 'But how can that be,' she thought, 'unless...unless...that's it.' Missouri pushed aside one book and stretched to reach for the next beside it. She quickly turned to a passage she had bookmarked and read. She closed the passage and leaned back in her chair nodding knowingly. She'd come to understand that succubae and incubi were not easy to destroy. Exorcism and other rituals didn't work. One writer went so far as to claim that incubi and succubae could only be destroyed by a pure blood demon of their own kind. These pure bloods were rare and were the product of an incubus and succubus coupling. "Black wings, pure blood...Mary...what were you?" Missouri's hands shook as she ran her fingers over the passage again. If you were one of them Mary that accounts for Sam and his gifts, but Dean's your son too. What does that make him?" The sound of the ringing phone startled Missouri and she let out a small yelp before chiding herself. She picked up the phone on the third ring. "John listen to me carefully. There's something more you should know about what's going on. It's about Dean." ??? Dean woke up surrounded in a cocoon of downy feathers. When he finally got his bearings he realized he was sitting upright between Sam's legs. He was wrapped safely in his feathery wings and Sam was still wonderfully naked. "You're awake," Sam whispered, stroking his brother's face with his fingertips. Dean leaned into the touches before speaking, "What happened Sammy and where are we?" "Dad shot you, I flew you away, you fainted and an abandoned shed...in that order." Dean twisted his head to see Sam smiling at him. It was such a rare and beautiful thing that he leaned up and kissed him lightly. That garnered an even bigger smile from Sam and a more passionate kiss. The whole time Sam's tongue was exploring his mouth, Dean knew he should be asking more important questions and trying to figure out their next move, but when Sam moved and pushed him down on his back and blanketed them with his wings, he decided to put those thoughts on hold. It was like making love under a warm comforter. Sam's hands were relieving Dean of his clothing but Dean was still warm. "What are you doing Sammy?" Dean asked dreamily. "I'm seeding you?" "It was you," Dean sighed, arching up into every caress. Dean winced when a finger trailed along his stomach where he'd been shot. "Sorry. Does it still hurt?" Sam whispered, sliding down his brother's frame to kiss the spot. "Yeah," Dean grunted, "it hurts like hell, but it's not like this is the first time this has happened to me." Sam stilled and Dean immediately regretted what he'd said. "Sammy, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that." "It's okay," Sam said, pulling away from his brother. "Don't Sammy," Dean pleaded, reaching for him. "Don't stop." Sam hesitated a bit before stretching out on top of Dean again. He caressed his hair and Dean cupped his brother's face and pulled him in for another kiss. "Dean," Sam said between kisses, "We have to talk about this...all of this." "I know," Dean answered reluctantly, "but not right now. I believe you said something about seeding me." "I think if I do this," Sam said, running a hand between Dean's thighs, "it makes you mine forever." "Is there some sort of rule book you read that in?" Dean quipped. "No, it's something that I've always known." Sam kissed Dean more urgently and Dean gave in to the kiss. Sam had no idea how much Dean wanted to be his forever. Shane had been a poor substitute. Dean decided he'd tell him this and more, after. ??? After his phone call with Missouri, John was amazed at how calm he was. Especially since finding out his wife may have been a succubus who gave up immortality to be with him, his youngest son was a full blooded demon prince from his wife's impregnation from an incubus and his eldest son was some sort of half-blood warrior and guardian. 'Just your average all American family,' John thought, trying hard not to break out into fits of hysterical laughter. Even if all this were true, not that John doubted any of it with all he'd seen over the years, he still couldn't figure out why his wife and Sam's girlfriend were killed. Whatever the reason, John knew without a doubt that things were escalating. Sam had changed; Dean was changing in conjunction with Sam's transformation. John needed to salvage what was left of his family, even if that meant embracing things he'd been chasing over the past twenty-two years. He pulled out his cell phone and scrolled down to Dean's number. It was time to do something he hadn't done in years; face his sons and talk. ??? It was by far much better than the dreams he'd been having. Sam was inside him; Sam was all around him, covering, touching, tasting, and thrusting so deep, touching the very core of him. Dean was a boneless mass of flesh by the time Sam was done with him. He lay there for a while, staring up at his smiling brother who was still showering him with kisses and spasming inside of him. It was amazing how full of energy Dean felt even though he hadn't had much sleep outside of the fainting thing that Sam would probably never let him live down. Dean heard his watch beep, indicating it was midnight. "Sammy, we've got to figure out our next move," he said lazily, reaching up to touch the wonderful wings that provided him a warm shelter. "I need clothes," Sam said dryly. "No you don't," Dean answered, running a hand along his side. "Slut." "Hey, you're the one that's been molesting me while I slept," Dean pouted. "Yeah, but I didn't know what I was doing. What's your excuse?" "I'm under the spell of my demon lover. I'm innocent." Dean said batting his eyes. "You," Sam said pulling out of Dean much to his brother's dismay, "are far from innocent." Sam fished around in the moonlit shed for Dean's undershirt and used it to clean them as best he could. In the moonlight, Sam caught Dean's eyes watching him strangely. "What?" Sam said arching his back a little. "Am I growing horns too?" Dean shook his head no. That's when Sam felt a tingling sensation across his back. 'Not again,' he prayed, remembering the pain he'd gone through when the damn wings had sprouted. This feeling wasn't as bad. It was sort of a mix between a strange itch and a static shock. "They're retracting," Dean said, pointing slack jawed at Sam. Sam twisted his head and saw the things getting smaller and smaller until they disappeared. Dean pulled Sam into his arms and held him while the younger Winchester trembled slightly. "Now what?" Sam asked. "We figure out how far we are from town and I go find you some clothes. But first, you need to tell me everything that happened before your change. Shane never showed up for our meeting. Did he have anything to do with what happened?" Sam rested against Dean's shoulder. He was suddenly cold. He hadn't felt the temperature in his altered state. Dean felt him shiver and grabbed his discarded jacket and threw it around Sam's shoulders. He glanced around the shed looking for anything to keep Sam warm. He spied a bundle on a shelf in the corner of the tiny wooden structure. He pulled away from Sam temporarily and was grateful to find an old dusty tarp. He shook it out as best he could and wrapped it around Sam. He put back on his own clothes minus one undershirt and jacket. Dean sat behind Sam, pulling him between his legs and into his arms. "I think we need to make clothes and getting out of here a priority. We'll deal with the rest later." Before Sam could answer, Dean's phone rang. Sam looked up at Dean's frowning face as he glanced at the name of the caller. "It's Dad."