Legion Part Three

[grianchloch]

Sam liked it at the bottom of the ocean. It was safe and warm and there wasn’t an angel to be found. He floated for a while, eyes closed, water moving him this way and that. Slowly, he became aware of a soft light. He opened his eyes, and looked up. Sunlight streamed down into the water, beckoning him to move closer to the surface.

He swam upwards, strong arms moving gracefully through the water, pulling him towards the surface, faster and faster, momentum gathering until he burst up into the light, breathing air again for the first time in a long time, taking in deep lungfuls and raising his face to the sun …


Sam woke slowly, his face pressed against Dean’s shoulder. He lay for a while, luxuriating in the way he was wrapped up in his brother’s arms, Dean’s scent filling him. Eventually, he cracked open his eyes and did what he’d done every morning since Michael had left and Dean had come back to him. He quietly studied the marks on Dean’s skin.

Lines of Enochian script ran down Dean’s arms and legs now, and wove patterns across his shoulders and down his back. Soon, Sam wanted to start deciphering them, curious as to the legacy the archangel had left them with, but not yet.

Sam had Dean back now, and he didn’t want to let go for a while.

Fingers carded through Sam’s hair, dragging deliciously over his scalp.

“You think too much,” Dean accused sleepily. “I can hear your brain whirring around in there.”

Dean’s arm tightened around Sam, and Sam squirmed closer. They lay in silence for a while.

“Dean, do you think …?”

“No.”

“You don’t know what I was gonna ask.” Sam raised his head to look at Dean.

“Yeah I do. You were gonna ask if I thought that you could have saved Lucifer if you’d said yes. You couldn’t have saved him, Sammy, he was too far gone.”

“You made Michael see sense.”

“It’s not like I told him what to do. The dude mind-melded with me while he was in here. Lucifer was insane, he’d been down in the cage for so long, he’d never have seen reason. Michael was an arrogant dick, but whatever happened when he was inside me, made him realize he was wrong, helped him to do the right thing.”

“I thought I’d lost you,” Sam whispered.

Dean moved his hand from Sam’s hair to cup his cheek, and he bent his head forward to place a reverent kiss on Sam’s forehead.

“I’m sorry.” It wasn’t the first time Dean had apologized since Michael had released him, and it wouldn’t be the last.

Not once had Sam told him it was okay, because although his decision had proved to be a way to save most of humanity, he’d left Sam alone. Again. It wasn’t something Sam could brush off and forget about that easily, but having Dean back and close was helping him deal with losing him. It would be a while before he would be able to let Dean out of his sight.

Sam surged against Dean, kissing him, pressing him back against the pillows. Dean kissed him back, digging his fingers in his hair, pushing his hips up to meet Sam’s.

“He touched you,” Dean growled. “I saw you, just like I saw everything else. It’s like a dream that fades in and out. You were hurting and I felt it, wanted to be with you …”

“I thought you were gone, but you were right there in front of me.”

Words tumbled from both of them as they pulled each other closer. There was an urgency behind their touches that hadn’t abated since Dean woke up to find Sam sitting next to him, watching him, waiting for him.

Sam straddled Dean’s hips. He bent down and kissed him as Dean’s hands ran down his back. Fingers scraped over his hole, still slick from hours before. A long finger pushed inside and Sam gasped out a breath over Dean’s mouth, rocking back to push the finger deeper.

Dean added another, but quickly got impatient for more. His dick ached as he pushed up into Sam inch by inch until Sam was sitting on his lap, twisting his hips from side to side to increase the pressure against his prostate.

“Can you come like this, without being touched?” Dean asked as Sam sat back, looking down at Dean as Dean admired the view of Sam’s hard leaking cock.

“Maybe,” he murmured as he continued to move.

Dean thrust up, small movements designed to slide over the sensitive spot and make Sam shudder as he rode Dean. Sam put his hands on Dean’s chest, steadying himself. Slowly, his back arched, until his dick was almost presented to Dean, red and needy. It took a lot for Dean not to take it in his hand and work it fast and hard. Instead he watched the pearly drops of pre come ooze from the tip and slide down. He licked his lips and gripped Sam’s hips harder, fucking Sam as Sam worked himself to a frenzy, lifting almost all the way off now, and slamming back down.

“Dean, fuck ….”

Dean pushed Sam down again, hard, needing the clench around his own dick, wanting that feel of being milked dry by Sam’s body.

Sam groaned, long and drawn out, and then he was coming, come spurting over Dean’s stomach and chest, landing across his nipples. Dean lost it, slamming into Sam, hips twitching, dick pulsing as he came, filling his brother again, claiming him after an angel had touched him.

It didn’t matter that the angel had worn his face, his body, it didn’t even matter that he’d technically been there at the time, Sam was his and no-one else got to touch him like that.

Sam was still dazed when Dean pulled him down to the bed and cleaned them both up. He wrapped his arms around him and held him close as they both dozed. Outside the motel, the world was a different place than it had been a week earlier. Dean knew they’d have to face it sometime, and they still owed Bobby a visit so he could see that they were alive and well, but not yet.

Dean looked at his arms and wondered what the angel scratches meant. Sam would figure it out, he knew that. And Michael had promised him that it was over. Now Lucifer had been defeated, there was no need for Michael to use Dean again. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the angel, but it would take him a long time to stop looking over his shoulder and wondering.

Sam snuffled against his shoulder and Dean smiled. Sam was what was important now, as he always had been, and Dean didn’t give a damn what they should be doing, what fugly hell spawn had crawled out of the pit while they’d been sleeping. It could all wait, just a little longer.

The world could give them time, it owed them that at least.




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