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Dean knew something was off when Sam hadn’t come back from the salt and burn. That whole case had felt a little strange; their initial idea had been a spirit but some things didn’t add up. On one hand, objects had been thrown around and put in places they didn’t belong, but they couldn’t really figure out the motive.
It was a new house with a seaside view, big glass windows that left nothing to imagination if anyone had or could walk outside it — but below it was a steep cliffside, waves crashing up on it. Sam had pointed out his concern for erosion, earning an eyeroll from Dean.
An almost 1.5-million-dollar project that killed people in its way; workers that suddenly went missing and was found in impossible angles all the way down to the tiny, dangerous beach below the cliff where the water had spat them back – bloated and blue. One of the owners of the house, Tina Harris — reminds Dean a lot of Jamie Lee Curtis, had experienced odd burn marks on her arms the first time she stepped into the home when it had barely been a skeleton of a house, and they had burned bad until her wife — Elin Harris, not blonde but black haired, confuses his stereotypes about Swedish ladies — was close.
Dean bet on a vengeful spirit, but neither could find any history of the place; it was pretty much just a nameless spot on the map, acres of grass and miles from civilization. The couple had described the need to have a forever-home where they could reconnect with nature.
“Natives, maybe?” Sam had suggested, “White people who steal land and ruin nature isn’t exactly a far-fetched thing.”
It was a good idea as any, and while Dean stayed put with the wives while experiencing what it would be like to be so rich to just buy land and fuck off from all else, Sam had gone off in the Impala to find someone that could possibly know something about his native theory.
When Dean was two thirds in his whiskey, the most expensive kind he’s ever put to his lips, while the wives told him where they met and when they fell in love, Sam called. The mayor of the town nearby didn’t know anything about natives, but he did know the land that Mrs. Harris and Mrs. Harris had bought.
“Get this, the land wasn’t owned by anyone, but there was a couple — Garcia and Leonard, people called them hippies, freaks and witches. They were extremely devout to that land, would die for it. Did die for it, as I understand it.”
“Mayor told you where they were buried?” Dean asked, feeling a small chill run down his spine.
“Yeah. I’m there right now. You stay put; I’ll salt n’ burn ‘em.”
“Alright. Come back here when you’re done. The ladies are making us dinner”, he grinned, winked at the wives when they chuckled at his enthusiasm.
“Will do”, Sam said, and Dean could almost hear his eyeroll through the line. But not even Sam could deny that a homemade meal beats gas station sandwiches each and every day of the week.
Dean keeps looking at the clock on the wall when he thinks that Sam has been gone too long for his comfort. The table is already set for four, wine glasses filled to an appropriate amount. The house smells delicious, and there will be food enough to serve a whole family for Thanksgiving, plus leftovers. Tina used to work as a chef at a restaurant that Dean had never heard of, it’s too out of the pocket for him, but the stress of the job had almost ruined their marriage, hence the property buy and escape from the city.
He calls Sam to ask if he’s managed to bury himself alive or something, but gets to voice mail.
“Look, ladies”, he says, nipping a croustade filled with something Elin described as a seafood taste of Sweden and a word he can’t remember how to pronounce. “I don’t know where my brother have run off to—“ he ignores the shared look Tina and Elin give each other at the word ‘brother’. “—but I’m gonna go and get him here. So you just, stay put, and I’ll be back before you can say that Swedish word—“
“Skagenröra”, Elin says with a wide grin, showing off a set of bright white teeth.
“…Alright, bad example. We’ll be back soon”, he grunts.
“We’ll keep the food in the oven”, Tina says.
“Don’t be too long, we don’t want the food to go dry”, Elin quips in, giving him another croustade for the road.
The cemetery in the nearby town is easy to find; the town holds just about 1,800 people and the churches are few and cemeteries even less. Dean sees Baby in the parking lot by the second cemetery he drove to and hops out of the car he borrowed from the wives and turns on the flashlight. “Sammy?” he calls as quietly as he can and begins searching for his brother in the unlit graveyard. “Sam?”
He hears him before he sees him; a gasped-out groan of pain a bit further in, close to the back of the church. Dean begins jogging, and sprints as soon as he sees his little brother crouched over on the ground, holding himself with a pure look of distress on his face. “Dean”, he gasps out, the unmistakable sound of pain showing on his face.
“Hey, hey, Sammy, what happened? Where are you hurt?” Dean demands, crouching down in front of him, hands immediately checking him for any visible injuries. When Sam doesn’t respond, Dean looks up at his face. He looks confused, the telltale frown deep between his brows. “Sam, what—“
Before he gets the words out, Sam backs away from Dean’s touch and immediately his breath is punched out of him in shocking pain. “What the hell are you—“ Dean barks, grabbing for Sam’s arm to keep him still for his examination. “Stay still, is it the ribs? Did you get tossed around?”
“No, Dean, it’s—“ Sam starts, voice as clear as is used to, his forehead suddenly clean from anxious sweat. “Let go of my arm for a sec.”
“Sammy—“
“Just, do it, Dean.”
Reluctantly, Dean lets go, and Sam is doubled over, a full-body tremble goes through him. “Alright!” he breathes out, sharp, and reaches out for Dean, shuddering when he has his hands on him. “It’s what I thought.”
“What is?” Dean asks, worried and thick in his throat after seeing his brother in unknown pain. Sam is breathing deep and long, huffs out from his nose.
“There was a flash of something, when I burned the bones.” He nods over to a grave three feet away from them, a smell of ash and soil. “It was them, I think, Garcia and Leonard. A quick burning flame in the air and I think it… I think it went inside me. Then I just remember hot, searing pain. Until you showed up.”
“So what does that mean, why aren’t you in pain now?”
“I don’t know. Soon as you touched me, it went away, just like that. And when you don’t, it comes back, unrelenting, feels like… being burned alive.”
“Jesus, Sammy. What— so… it didn’t work?”
“Or it did”, Sam says slowly. “It worked just as they had intended it to.”
The ride back to the wives on their cursed land feels longer than it should. Sam had to hold Dean’s wrist on the way back to the Impala and Dean had almost slid over the hood of Baby to get back to the driver’s seat to not cause excruciating pain on his brother for longer than necessary. They learn that more body contact than brushing their hands together isn’t necessary, but Sam will still feel a little uncomfortable in his chest unless he actually holds Dean’s hand in his. So, Dean lets go of big brother manly pride, and holds Sam’s hand on their way back.
“I’ll run”, Dean says and throws himself out the door when he’s parked in Tina and Elin’s driveway, cursing all the way around to Sam’s side and all but drags his little brother out to get his hands on him. Sam is shaking when they go to the front door, and the Elin asks is they should call an ambulance.
“It’s a curse, or something”, Sam gasps out, “nothing a paramedic can do anything about.”
“We’re so sorry, if we had known—“ Tina rubs her hands together, a nervous tic.
“It’s not your fault”, Dean reassures, helping Sam to get his jacket off without breaking contact. “We just have to figure out how to lift the curse. Maybe their bones were warded or something?” He turns to Sam.
“That’s what I was thinking”, Sam says. Neither are aware of the looks the wives are giving them, alternating between baffled and queasy for the talk of burned bones and curses, astonished that the — so-called — brothers are talking about it so easily.
“Well, you can’t figure anything out on an empty stomach”, Elin decides, and Dean’s face lit up.
“I whole heartedly agree”, he says. “You’re a woman after my own heart.”
“Too bad I’m a lesbian, huh?” she teases and he flushes a light shade of pink.
“I don’t know, I’ve heard Swedes are very progressive”, he winks, earning a chuckle from her.
“Careful”, Tina warns, but the humor in her eyes is bright.
The dinner is a bit compromised because Sam and Dean have to keep their hands touching the whole time. Tina cut their food like she was a mother of two overgrown toddlers. Only fifteen minutes through dinner, Sam had started to sweat. Instead of just having their hands touching, Dean adjusted to taking his hand in his properly — squeezing it once in question and feeling a bit of his worry washing off him when Sam nods reassuringly.
“So, how did you two meet?” Tina asks, taking a sip of red wine, watching them over the brim. Both startle and frown, looking at the wives across the table.
“We—“
“Uh—“
“And don’t give us the ‘we’re brothers’ crap”, Elin says with an amused look on her face. “You won’t find any judgement in this lesbian household.”
“Cursed lesbian household”, Tina adds. “Maybe it’s God’s vengeance?” both ladies chuckle.
“So what’s the story, you boys meet each other in a haunted house?”
Dean doesn’t know why he feels like lying, to go with their version and just confirm that — yes, we met when bringing Casper the friendly ghost to peace, you got any clue how Hollywood has ruined that poor bastard? Maybe that’s less awkward than insisting that they are in fact brothers by blood, considering on how badly they believe that him and Sam are a gay couple, just like them.
And it seems that Sam has the same idea as him, because he says: “We’ve known each other our whole lives. Our… families knew each other, so we grew up together. As brothers.” His hand feels a bit clammy in Dean’s, but he just knows that it has nothing to do with the curse this time. “We didn’t know anything else, you know? Didn’t know there were other options until…” He glances to Dean, something that looks like mild panic in his eyes and Dean curses inwardly. What does he expect Dean to say, now that he started this made-up story. Realizing that Dean won’t contribute, Sam swallows and flushes bright red in the face. “Until it… just felt right. One day we were looking at each other like we could’ve just been two normal brothers, and the next it made sense that we aren’t.”
Something about the way he says it makes Dean’s heart skip a beat in his chest, and he finds it hard to look at his brother. He focuses on the food instead, each bite growing a little bigger in his mouth. Perhaps it was a little too close to the truth, because they aren’t two normal brothers. Nothing about their lives is normal, their childhoods, the job, the friends. The way they do just about anything to save the other — demon deals and what have you.
Dean feels a little bit queasy for the lie to slip into the truth that easily.
Tina and Elin notice the air shifting and they both frown. “Your families don’t know?” Tina guesses, and Dean almost laughs at that, but he holds his tongue.
“All hell would break loose if they did”, he says tightly, “not that there’s much family left to know. But the ones that are here wouldn’t approve.” Not many people would approve of brother-on-brother incest, he chuckles bitterly in his head. He feels a little dirty claiming that, thinking of Bobby who’s practically the only family they have left apart from each other, he can’t imagine the man being a bigot towards gay people. He simply wouldn’t care, if the case was as simple as being just that. But why does it matter, he thinks suddenly, he and Sam are not gay for each other, they’re just non-normal brothers. It’s just a made-up story. But why do I feel like we’re digging a grave here? he grimaces to himself.
“That’s awful”, Elin sighs, opening the cork to another bottle of red with an expert pop. She fills their nearly empty glasses without asking. “You mentioned earlier that Swedes are progressive, and while you’re right, there are still some holding a conservative idea of love and family. My mom didn’t come to our wedding.”
“I’m sorry”, Sam says softly.
“I believe we were better off”, Elin shrugs her shoulders. “Wouldn’t want that kind of negativity on our happiest day, but it still kind of stings, you know? That a person who’s supposed to love their child unconditionally doesn’t, because ‘the bible said’ or some bullshit.”
Neither Sam or Dean respond with words, only nods, as if they have any sort of life reference to that matter. Both feel dirty with lies, and Dean’s hand is clammy too.
Despite the alcohol in their system, the brothers insist that they should get a motel room, not wanting to use the wives’ hospitality any longer. Dean apologizes for leaving their car at the cemetery, and asks if either wants to follow along and be dropped off, but both decline. “We could probably use a walk tomorrow”, Elin says with a dismissive wave.
“We’ll be in the town, you have our numbers if you need anything”, Sam says and gives a one-arm hug to both, not letting go of Dean’s hand.
“We’ll be here until we figure this mess out”, Dean says.
“You’re lucky this ‘touch or there will be pain’ curse-thing happened to you, and not two people who aren’t as close as you are”, Tina smiles, which Sam tries to mimic, but to Dean who knows all of his tells, it looks tight and a bit forced. The wives, however, doesn’t notice.
Sam stares at the beds unhappily when they get back to the motel they found when they drove into town for the case. “How…” Sam starts and slumps his shoulders. “How will we do this?”
Dean kicks his shoes off. “We’ll share, I guess”, he says, a little uncomfortable at the idea. It’s not an unknown deal, they used to share when they were kids so Dad didn’t have to get two rooms and save money, and sometimes — though rarely — the motels are out of two singles, and they have to share as adults. It’s not really the prospect of sharing a bed with Sam that makes Dean a little weary, but the idea of them sharing a single, considering their sizes. “Maybe we should ask for a king-size.”
“Tomorrow”, Sam mutters and yawns.
The jackets and flannels are easy to take off without losing skin contact, and they both struggle out of their jeans, leaving just their t-shirts and boxer briefs on.
“It’s just for a couple of nights”, Dean reassures, and Sam nods.
They brush their teeth in silence after helping each other with applying toothpaste. Then they consider the toilet situation.
“Maybe, if we’re quick”, Sam starts, but Dean shakes his head.
“I won’t look, just,”
“Dean, I can’t—“
“What, you can’t hold your dick one handed? What kind of monster cock—“
“I can’t with someone else in here”, Sam splutters, red in the face.
“You have performance issues?” Dean’s lips tug in the corners while he desperately tries to fight off a grin.
“It’s not funny”, Sam snaps.
“Since when is that not funny? When have you ever peed without anyone being nearby?” He remembers at some point in their lives when Dad would have them keep the bathroom doors open for safety reasons, that was before either of them hit puberty though. “I said I wouldn’t look.”
But Sam is stubborn, and Dean sighs in defeat. Irritated, he holds up their locked hands and says: “Have it your way. But, Sammy, the second it becomes unbearable, you fucking tell me, okay?”
“Yeah, fine”, Sam says quietly, and he looks at their hands a little worriedly, knowing what’s to come, but his determination is set in his eyes, and Dean knows he won’t be able to win this argument.
“Fine”, Dean says. “On three?”
Sam nods once. His free thumb has slipped inside the hem of his underwear, ready to pull down and pull out over the toilet bowl.
“One”, Dean starts the countdown, his thumb letting go of Sam’s index finger, and he pretends to not notice how Sam’s already shaking.
“Two”, Sam whispers, swallowing thickly. Dean wonders if he’s regretting this stupid idea, but Dean won’t ask.
He takes a quick inhale, “Three”, and lets go of his brothers hand and sprints out the door and shuts it close with a bang behind him. Everything in him tells him to press his ear against it to hear if Sam is writhing in pain on the floor in there, but he has to respect Sam’s wishes and let the guy see for himself that he’s an idiot for demanding privacy in a situation like this.
He doesn’t know how many seconds it’s been before he hears Sam whimper: “Dean” inside and Dean pulls the handle and barges inside. Sam is tucked back inside and on the floor just like he suspected, the lid closed. Dean gets on his knees beside his little brother, immediately touching him. “I got you, Sammy, I got you”, and he holds the whimpering and sobbing mess in his arms. “Got everything out?”
“Shut up, Dean”, Sam breathes out, and tucks his head in the hollow of Dean’s throat, body shivering.
“So, that’s a no on doing that again?” Dean asks, just to be sure. Sam sighs.
“Yeah. Bad idea.”
Dean refuses to say ‘I told you so’ after catching a glimpse of wetness in Sam’s eyes.
They struggle to find a position on the queen-sized bed. One of them has to sleep on the side, the silent decision lands on Dean — being the oldest he takes one for the team. He figures Sam is suffering enough with the curse. “I’m just gonna…” he murmurs, and slides his arm above Sam’s head.
Sam gives him a displeased look. “I don’t want to smell your armpit all night.”
“Where should I put my arm then?” Dean argues. “Mr. Full of bright ideas.”
“Just—“ Sam grunts and steers Dean’s arm underneath his neck, and slides closer to Dean, his head nearly on his chest. “Like this.”
Dean swallows and shifts just a little bit, tucking his chin on Sam’s head. “We don’t talk about this, ever, capiche?”
“Whatever, Dean.”
It’s left not talked of the next day that neither has ever slept so peacefully in a long time.
But what’s voiced is that the curse has gotten worse, because now it seems as though just holding hands isn’t enough to soothe the pain. It works well enough to put their clothes back on, but after just a short moment Sam’s gasping with pain and Dean — without thinking — puts his whole arm up inside Sam’s shirt, holding his hip. “Okay?” he grunts, his own body trembling a little. He hates hearing Sam in pain, it’s the worst sound he can think of.
Sam is pretty loose by his side, holding one arm around Dean’s shoulders. “Yeah.”
“So leaving the room is out of the question then”, Dean points out, rubbing his thumb on Sam’s skin.
“Guess so”, he mutters.
Dean looks up at him, frowning. “Hey, this isn’t your fault, Sammy. No way we could’ve known.”
“I just…”, he rubs his face with his free hand. “It doesn’t make any sense. Why would a pair of… hippies ward their bones in case someone would burn them? Why would they think of that, what led them to it? And why this… touch or pain kind of curse, how would that help saving that piece of land?”
“Well, if two people are too busy touching each other, they would be too busy to ruin nature”, Dean guesses.
“Suppose that makes a little sense. Still, what’s so important about that land?”
“Maybe they just liked it. Look, Sam. We’re just guessing here. I don’t think you and I can leave this room for a while, but we can still research.” He waves towards Sam’s laptop. “I think we should call Bobby.”
He feels Sam tense a little beside him, and he squeezes his hip questioningly in instinctive response, but Sam either didn’t feel it or ignored it. “That’s probably for the best.” Dean doesn’t ask why he sounds so bitter about it.
Dean has to sit with his arm fully underneath Sam’s shirt while Sam taps away on his laptop, looking for clues where there is none. They’re both at a total loss as to what they are supposed to be looking for. Sam looks into the couple in question, but doesn’t find anything more than what the mayor had already told him: people considered them freaks and hippies for caring so much about nature, they were throwing pig’s blood and burning bags containing dogshit at constructive workers and the CEO’s. Both had spent several years in separate prisons for abuse and serious death threats towards family members and their children.
“Basically, they were environmental activists who didn’t know how to do things properly?” Dean snorts and took a bite out of his hamburger he had called and ordered. The guy who dropped of their food and looked at them funnily when he saw Dean’s full arm inside Sam’s shirt.
“Well, when people refuse to listen, I suppose some would start taking it to the extreme”, Sam shrugs.
“Anything about some sort of pain kink or other sadomasochistic traits?” Dean says between his chews. Sam shakes his head. “Figures. You can’t find everything on the internet.”
Without thinking, Dean starts taking his arm back to crumple the burger wrapper, and Sam lets out a shocked whine; “Dean!” and Dean curses out loud.
“Fuck, shit, I’m sorry”, he shoves his arm inside his shirt again, but it doesn’t seem to help. Sam is shaking so bad and seems to have a hard time breathing. “Sammy? Shit!” He catches Sam in his arms, struggles to keep balance and not fall to the floor. One arm underneath his shirt, and the other holding his cheek, Dean presses his lips to Sam’s forehead, whispering hurried sorry’s into his hair. “Hey, hey, I got you, I’m sorry, Sammy, I weren’t thinking. You with me? Sam?” But Sam doesn’t respond, he’s gasping hard and clawing at Dean’s shirt, filled to the brim with so much pain he can’t see or function clearly. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He hauls Sam in his arms and drags the taller man to the bed again, nearly rips his shirt apart and the same to Sam, desperate to get a larger area of skin-on-skin contact.
That’s how Bobby finds them when he arrives, Dean doesn’t even know how much time has passed. As soon as Dean had gotten Sam’s half naked body on top of his, wrapped his arms around the taller, shaking form, Sam had passed out. When there’s a knock on the door, and a “Boys, it’s me”, Dean grunts out that the door’s open. Bobby stops at the opening when he opens it, staring at the sight of two large adults pressed so close together they might as well be one.
“I know how it looks”, Dean grunts.
“I’m not sure I do”, Bobby says, rubbing the back of his neck. “He’s asleep?”
“Passed out. Fainted from pain. This,” he gesticulates to their naked upper bodies. “is the only thing that helped this time.”
“This time?”
“Yesterday I only had to hold his hand.” Dean can’t think of more things to do to soothe Sam’s pain if this doesn’t work anymore, the only ones that pops into his mind makes him blush fiercely and his heart skips several beats. Memories of Tina and Elin’s knowing glances between themselves, a shared smirk from the moment they learned that Sam and Dean called themselves brothers.
It’s not the first time it’s happened, and Dean doubts it’ll be the last.
One day we were looking at each other like we could’ve just been two normal brothers, and the next it made sense that we aren’t, Sam had said, and Dean hates how badly he wants to read into that, to dissect each word and how they were said to make sense to a lesbian couple, but he hates how it makes sense to him. That if the wives knew that they really are brothers, Sam’s words would bring horror to their eyes instead of shared fondness and understanding.
But Dean kind of got the feeling that Sam hadn’t spoken to them when he said it, because if Dean had been the braver one in that situation, he wouldn’t have.
He told Bobby everything that they’ve found of the land and the couple that got their bones burned, skipped out on the dinner with the wives for obvious reasons, he told him about what Sam had seen at the cemetery, and their own theories.
“Most curses break when the person responsible is laid to rest, in this case got their bones burned extra crispy. So why hasn’t it lifted?” Bobby says, patting his beard down in a way he does when he’s thinking.
“Beats me.”
“And you’re sure it has to do with, what were their names—“
“—Leonard and Garcia. Who else would it be? Sam had talked to the mayor; they were obsessed with that part of the land. Died for it.”
“Because this curse makes no sense contextually”, Bobby says and brings out a book out of his duffel bag. He hands it to Dean who immediately frowns at the title.
“Greek Gods? You think we’re dealing with an actual Greek God?”
“Goddess”, Bobby corrects him. “In this case, I think you’re dealing with Mother Nature herself.”
Dean blinks. Several times. He lifts his hand to his face to rub at it, but Sam stirs in his arms so he immediately clamps his hand down on Sam’s bicep again. “Say you’re right”, he mutters after a moment. “What is a Greek goddess doing in USA?”
“That’s what we’re going to ask her”, Bobby says and starts going for the door.
“How?” Dean asks, baffled.
“The hell do you mean how? We’ll summon her, ya idjit.”
Dean grunts in frustration. “Who’s we in this context? Me and Sam are a bit compromised, if you haven’t noticed.”
Bobby eyes them again, and sighs. “Guess it’ll just be me, Tina and Elin, then. I’ll keep you on the line”, he says and waves his phone in the air. Dean has to agree, not liking being left out, especially if Bobby is going to be alone with two civilians when summoning a goddess, but what can he do, but go along with it? Stuck to the bed with Sam who’s still passed out cold in his arms. “I’ll call you when I get there.”
“Hurry. I need to pee.” Dean grunts, but then he freezes and shouts; “Bobby!” when the door closes behind the older man, and he opens it quickly; alarmed:
“I’m not getting you a diaper.”
“Ha-ha, hilarious”, Dean grits. ”Uh. When you get to them, don’t— don’t tell them we’re brothers”, he stammers, feeling all types of uncomfortable under the scrutinizing eyes of Bobby.
“…Why?”
“Just, don’t. I’ll… explain later”, Dean forces out.
He gets a raised brow sent his way. “You better”, Bobby mutters and closes the door again. Dean doesn’t breathe out the breath he’s held in his lungs until he hears the sound of Bobby’s car leaving the motel’s parking lot.
By the time Sam finally wakes up from his post-pain slumber, Dean all but drags him to the bathroom where he makes Sam swear on never ever talking about it as he finally relieves himself with Sam plastered on his back.
Bobby calls after Dean had filled him in on the theory of Mother Nature, and he puts him on speaker. They had gone back to bed after Sam also spent a penny, bright red in the face once he flushed. It was easier to get all of Sam’s upper body as close to him as possible when lying down, and Dean would lie to himself if he thought for a second that he didn’t enjoy it, just a little.
“Hi, Bobby”, Sam says when the man’s on the line.
“Sam, glad to hear you’re up and running”, Bobby responds. There’s a wind in the background, some seabirds chirping loudly. Dean huffs a chuckle at his words, feeling Sam squeeze his arms around him in response. He swallows.
“Hi guys!” A woman’s voice calls out in the background which Dean immediately recognizes as Tina.
“Any more problems in the house?” he asks, assuming Bobby has them om speaker as well.
“Nothing as bad as Sam’s deal”, Elin says. “A vase got smashed to pieces when we were talking about extending the patio once this is over.”
“Maybe add a hot tub”, Tina adds, excited.
Sam mutters something about rich people, which Dean snickers at.
“Hold this”, they hear Bobby mutter over the line, a little rustling line and the phone gets passed on to one of the ladies.
“So not a vengeful spirit, huh?” Elin says, her voice clearer now. “A goddess.” She whistles. “That’s… kind of sexy.”
Dean can’t help but laugh. “Gods and goddesses are pretty nasty in our experience. Too full of themselves.”
“Well, if it’s the actual Mother Nature this is about, then it is her flesh, right? We’re literally on her”, Tina chirps in.
“That sounds all types of wrong.”
“It would be more in the lines of being on her creation rather than on her body”, Bobby says. “Alright, I’m done, everyone be quiet, there are some Greek words I need to say.”
Dean finds himself actually holding his breath as Bobby starts chanting something foreign. Both him and Sam sharpens their ears and Dean brings the phone even closer to their ears, listening for any indication that it worked — or didn’t. But all they hear is the wind.
“So… it wasn’t her?” they hear Elin ask, the disappointment stark clear in her voice, and Bobby just about answers until a rumbling cut through his voice. “What—”
“Guys?” Sam says, alarmed, he would sit up if he could. “Hey— what’s going on? Bobby?”
“Jesus Christ”, Bobby whispers. And a clear voice that goes through their spines and twists it, which neither Sam or Dean recognizes responds:
“Wrong.”
Then the call cuts.
They try calling back to Bobby four times before they get to voice mail immediately, then they try both Tina and Elin, but no one picks up. Dean is chewing on his bottom lip, tasting blood. A million thoughts at once goes through his head, and he feels like he will go insane if he doesn’t find out what’s going on back at Tina and Elin’s place. And Sam is even worse.
“We can’t just sit here!” he shouts, snarling when Dean points out that they’re actually lying down. “What if something’s happened? What if it’s not a goddess but a fucking demon—”
“What do you want us to do, Sam? What can we do? I can’t exactly drive us there with you on my lap, half naked, can I?”
“I’ll manage, just— I fainted once, didn’t I? I’ll just faint again, it’ll be fine, but we can’t just stay here!”
“You think this curse will allow that? It’s a curse, Sam, curses aren’t supposed to be playing in someone’s favor, not ever. It’s gotten gradually worse, and what’s to say it will allow you to faint again, to break the pattern? I won’t risk your safety.”
“And what of their safety?” Sam points out, frustrated. His eyes are wild and stormy when they bore into Dean’s from where he lies next to Dean on the bed, his arms around him like a koala. Dean swallows thickly, Sam’s desperate worry a twin-feeling, but to him it’s always been Sam above all else.
“Bobby can protect them, Sammy, it’s his damn job, but you and me are a bit busy right now, we can’t be out there and in each other’s arms. You might not survive without my touch, and how are you supposed to save them when you’re dead? Please, Sammy, see reason. I’m begging you.” I can’t lose you is left unsaid, unshed, and maybe he can pretend just a little while longer that his heart isn’t beating so hard it might burst out of his ribcage. And Sam blinks, the wildness in his hazel eyes toning down a little, but there’s still a storm there; like the waves that crash up on the cliff below Tina and Elin’s house. And Dean swallows, thick and hard around the lump forming in his throat. Knots in his chest, he whispers;
“’One day we were looking at each other like we could’ve just been two normal brothers, and the next it made sense that we aren’t.’ You said that, and it just… it made sense. You put words to it, this… feeling.”
“Dean…”, Sam whispers, a look of something unreadable on his face, but Dean pushes through; he wants to learn it.
“All I’m saying is, despite this being one hell of a curse, it hasn’t been all that bad, you know?”
He expects something on his own body to hurt after the confession, a slap to the face, even a pinch into his skin hard enough to draw blood. What he didn’t expect was a noise to escape Sam’s throat, whiny and desperate, before he draws close and presses their lips together.
Sam kisses like he’s hungry and touch-starved, immediately pushing Dean flat on his back and rolling on top, fingers knotting in Dean’s hair. He kisses open-mouthed, breathless and wet, tongue and lips and teeth, hot and heady. He touches everywhere he can reach, can’t seem to get enough of Dean’s face; his cheek, chin, ears. As if he can’t believe that he’s — that this — is real, that in order to prove it to himself he has to push in a little harder, kiss a little deeper and claim every inch of his skin with his fingertips.
And had Dean been any other man he’d be overwhelmed by Sam, ecstatic but also thrown off by the sheer power of Sam’s body enveloping him. But Dean isn’t another man but Sam’s brother, his twin flame, soulmate defined by the universe, and he rubs his hands over the strength of Sam’s back, kisses him back with equal measures.
They kiss until they’re out of breath, and then some more. Dean’s lips feel as puffy as Sam’s look when they manage to break apart, and he can’t help but let a laugh slip when he runs his fingers through Sam’s hair. Had he been any other man, he’d be scared of the intensity in Sam’s eyes, how he looks like a predator about to chase its prey. But Dean isn’t any other man, and he knows how to handle him, not to break down and tame.
“You said curses are never supposed to play in someone’s favor”, Sam says, his chest heaving as if he’s been running a marathon. He’s lax and tight at the same time — Dean feels the proof of it pressed against his thigh, still on top of Dean and looking down with his face framed by his long hair.
“Huh”, Dean hums. “Maybe we found a curveball?”
Sam grins sheepishly. “Maybe.”
The phone rings only minutes after Sam had ducked his face down to stake a claim on Dean’s mouth again, and both boys scramble to get off each other without breaking skin-contact. Dean hopes they don’t sound out of breath when they answer: “Bobby? What the hell happened? You guys okay?”
“We’re good!” Elin calls out over the wind that’s picked up around them. “We’re all good. Guess what! Bobby was right, it was Mother Nature, but not just her. It was freaking Aphrodite too! Both captured and bonded to this land by that hippie couple to protect and teach about peace and love.”
“Guess they didn’t know that Gods and Goddesses – like you said, Dean – are pretty nasty, and they were killed for their efforts”, Tina chimes in, sounding a little winded but still just as ecstatic as her wife. “Unfortunately for the Goddesses, their death didn’t break the bond, and only the promise of keeping the land pure in the name of true love could. Or something.”
“Or something?” Sam says, chuckling.
“Greek Goddesses are, as it turns out, very dramatic”, Tina explains. “From what we understand, because they were captured and bonded together, their purposes blended into this mess of hurting those that ruined the land — the constructive workers — but also hitting couples with a painful curse that only lifts once true love is recognized. Which makes sense for us, right, but I don’t understand why the two of you are still cursed?”
“Well…” Dean coughs awkwardly. They haven’t heard from Bobby yet, but knows he’s there. His presence, even if it’s silent, is heavy. “Goddesses works in mysterious ways, right?”
Sensing that there’s more to this then they are keen to let on, Tina and Elin leaves it unsaid and boiling in the air, realizing that it’s not for them to learn.
“So, are they free, then?” Sam asks, and both ladies confirm this with bright voices:
“Yeah, we had to promise Mother Nature not to soil the land with unnecessary things — but she wasn’t against a hot tub, thank Goddess, and Aphrodite just needed further confirmation that we are in fact true lovers. We showed her our wedding bonds”, Elin says. “It was a bit anticlimactic, honestly. There was this bright white light and then they were gone.”
“And you’re sure it’s over? Bobby?” Dean asks, his voice a little gruff when calling out for the older man.
“The only way to know is for you two to stop touching each other”, Bobby says slowly. “Right?”
“Right”, Dean says, equally slow, embarrassed. To Tina and Elin, they are just a couple pretty much coming out to either’s family member. Little do they know that they are confirming incest to their father-figure. “We’ll, uh, do that.” He gives Sam an alarming look, and his brother looks at him the same way. Then he starts backing away from Dean, less and less skin touches and Dean waits for Sam to double over in pain, to scream and thrash, but nothing comes out.
The curse is lifted.
It shouldn’t be a surprise for them, considering what they know now of the nature of the curse – a matchmaking twisted from the wrongdoings of the right cause.
True love. Not just lovers, but pure, real — definitely more than brothers, some parts of them knew that already. But to have it confirmed in this way, through agony and fear, Dean has hard time feeling shame for it.
Especially when Sam is looking at him from the other end of the bed with nothing but love and devotion in his hazel eyes.
They make a whole-hearted promise to visit Tina and Elin whenever they pass through, and they feel it in their bones that that’s actually something they want to. They might even take a detour, if only for the promise of using a hot tub overlooking the wild waves of the ocean.
They had gotten dressed by the time Bobby comes back, not touching each other, not even sitting that close. But the tension is in the air, the real unfiltered need, and Bobby is definitely picking up on it from the way his eyes flit around the room to look at anything but them. As if it burns him to even consider coming in-between. The curse may be lifted, but the bond is there, the rope holding them tied together which not even loppers forged in the burning hatred of a God could cut through.
“Those ladies gave me a long speech on how old ideas of love is really harmful before I even had the chance to introduce myself”, Bobby says at last, fixing his eyes carefully on both of them for a couple of seconds each.
“They— they didn’t know we’re brothers”, Dean mumbles, but decides to push through his instincts on tucking his tail between his legs and fleeing. He thinks Sam deserves more than a coward.
“Uh-huh”, Bobby huffs, raising a brow at the obvious statement. “And correcting them wasn’t on the map?”
Dean looks at Sam the same time that Sam looks at him. The understanding is mutual there, no words needed. To tell people that they are in fact brothers isn’t necessary when that’s not all they are, when that word is just a distraction to their true nature. It’s what bonded them in the first place, but not what they are made out of. Because they are not normal brothers, it makes sense that they aren’t.
Dean smiles, soft and unashamed, when he says: “Not anymore.”