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SpN: Non Timebo 15/?
Title: Non Timebo Mala 15
Author: roxy
Pairings/Characters: Dean/OCs, Sam/OMCs, Dean/Sam
Rating: R for violence
Word Count: 2411
Spoilers: might be considered spoilery for All Hell Breaks Loose
Summary: Sam Winchester is looking for the ultimate weapon, one that will destroy the demon who destroyed his family. Dean Kane was raised to be a maker of weapons. He was just the man Sam needed.
Notes/Warnings: This is my AU version of the Colt's making. Increeeedibly AU. It's completely a child of my wild imaginings. Warnings for sex ( brief het and M/M, incest, rape.) Sections will have individual warnings.
He washed every bit of himself, scrubbed at his hair until he could pull his fingers through and it didn't smell like grease and smoke. He squeezed water out of it and wondered if Missouri would cut it for him. He didn't like it as long as it'd gotten—too dangerous in a fight. He twisted the length into a rope and shoved it under his cap. He dried himself with the surprisingly soft sacking she'd laid out for him and sighed. Nothing for it but to put on the ripe clothes he'd come in with. But on a chair near the end of the pass way, was a man's shirt, and a pair of trousers. He thanked Missouri silently. He'd see about getting some clothes soon as possible, but this should hold him for a day or two at least. The shirt came to just below his hips—the cuffs met his wrists and the pants stopped above the top of his boots, letting an inch of skin breathe free. He shrugged. Hell, wasn't like he was some kind of dandy, fit to make the boys loose their minds.
Dean
Whenever loneliness built to the point he couldn't carry it anymore, Dotty made time for him. Dean appreciated it. It wasn't exactly what he wanted but it was close enough, pleasant enough. It was simple, a transaction that provided some relief for him and a reason not to have to talk to Tobe about anything uncomfortable. And it was a chance to talk to someone who…understood, to some extent. Sometimes, he thought that maybe talking to Dotty was the best part of their whole deal. He could speak freely and Dotty…thank God she wasn't one to spill a confidence.
With her on her belly, and her strong back bare to him, he could do it and it was good. Best was when she was on her knees over him, her mouth on him. He could close his eyes and lock his fingers behind his head and just…go away, with his mind full of fox eyes and long brown hair, broad shoulders and narrow hips, he could do it and revel in it.
Christmas was coming up on them quickly. The shop had been busy with repairs and making new items, mostly smaller, home items. It was a nice change from the slow times right after the end of autumn, but being together non-stop, working, with few breaks—Tobe and Dean were both pretty much sick of the sight of each other and more than happy to spend a few days apart. Tobe had gone off on one of his mysterious journeys—which personally Dean figured had to be about a little feminine companionship. And Dean was taking advantage of the break to whittle away some frustration and just…look at a different face, no matter what it cost him.
Dotty had been more than glad to see him, and showed him so. After business had been concluded and they'd cleaned up and were dressed again, Dean stretched out on her bed. She sat at her vanity—an old chair sat in front of table little more than bare few boards nailed together and tied to saw horses, a tin mirror hanging over them—the management only considered the bed to be important. She brushed her braids out, long, strong strokes pulled through red, red hair. Dean watched her, fascinated with the play of muscle in her back, and he wondered why it didn’t make him warm—but he'd long since given up on wishing it would.
"You're quiet tonight," she said and Dean shrugged.
"I suppose. It's just…Tobe's getting worried that…" he stopped and laughed a little before going on, a little blush pinking his cheeks. "Well, he's worried that I might be getting too fond of you…"
Dotty set her brush down and turned to face Dean, crossing her arms under her bare breasts. He took notice that it displayed them nicely and felt a little sorry for her poor neglected bosom. "You mean to tell me," she said, "that man thinks you're sweet on me? Ain't that just darlin'? Guess you cain't tell him otherwise, neither. Poor Dean."
Dean sighed, crossed his legs and lay back on her pillows. She lit candles, and pulled on a dressing gown before coming to sit next to him, cross-legged herself and reclining against the foot board. "Dotty…what do you think it's like, between men?" he asked her.
She lit a cigarette, inhaled like a dragon and passed it to Dean. "Don’t know…messy? Hard?"
He grinned briefly and pressed on. "I mean, do you think men…fall in love? Like women and men do? Want to stay together?"
Dotty snagged the cigarette back and looked thoughtful as she inhaled. "Cain't say as I ever thought about it, but…I'm guessing no. For men, it's all about the fucking. Women fall in love, men just want the trim. Love's for when he wants it all the time and realizes he's got a better chance of that by marrying. And little ones, I guess." She offered the cigarette to Dean and mashed it out when he refused.
"But men do love. I know Tobe thinks the world of me, and I do of him."
"Well, that's different, you fool boy. Parents 'n' children, 'course they love each other. He's like your pa, ain't he? Besides—he's got no one else but you. Ain't likely to have no one around here. You either," she said, ignoring Dean's outburst. "S'true. Most folks think you're simple or they think you're cursed, and almost all of them won't have nothing to do with a nig—colored man. So…all you really got is each other." She sat still, silence thick around them. Dean stared out at the sliver of night showing between the curtains….
"And me, 'course. You got me, I'm your friend," she said, and that made Dean smile.
"Thank you. It helps, that you’re my friend. You know, besides the—you know."
Dotty laughed. "You really are a fool. Listen, don't worry about love. Some day, who knows, maybe some day, some girl is going to turn your head right around and you'll forget all about this man stuff. And if not…hell, sex can be a pretty good substitute for love, trust me on that. I got some whiskey, you want some? Half a glass to settle your nerves?"
Dean sat against the headboard and thought about what Dotty'd said. Men only wanted sex…it didn't seem so. Jan hadn't seemed like that, the kiss didn’t feel like that was all he wanted—granted, it was a long time gone and maybe he'd dressed the memory up a bit. And there was the way he thought about that drover, and he knew that was about more than just sex. He'd felt it, a connection…Dean sighed. Probably never see the boy again in this life. And what if Dotty was right? What if he was even more of a freak and other men like him didn't want more than what he was getting right now?
"Honey, you look like you been dragged down five milesa bad road…you thinking about that stuff still? She looked at him fondly. "You know, if you want to know what the future holds, maybe we can go see this woman one of the girls knows of. She's a cook in a parlor house over in Freemont. She's supposed to be a powerful seer…tell you if love is coming to you some day. Or—we can do a little spell ourselves right now!" She clapped her hands, face alight with glee. "That's what we'll do—we're going to find out who your true love is!"
Dean laughed, and shook his head. "Tobe would have a spittin' fit if he caught me messing around like that."
"Well, there's a lot of things Toby--I mean Tobe--don’t know about you, ain't there? Besides, it's mostly just fun." But the light in her eyes said she didn’t believe that for a minute. "Hold up now!"
She left the room and came back a few minutes later with a tall thin girl, dressed—or undressed—like Dotty. She carried a basket in her hands and she looked Dean up and down with a smirk. "It's unfair you don' choose no one but Dotty. You so pretty, you need to share."
"Oh, shut up Lu, and help this poor love-lorn puppy out. We want to call his one true love."
"My name, since rude Dotty not introduce us properly, is Lucinda. What you want," she frowned, making the mole on her lip dance, "needs a bath and oil and…well, we work with what we have."
Dean watched her curiously, pretty certain that what she was doing was pointless but it made Dotty happy and lord knew entertainment came rarely to them…he sighed and sat where Lu told him to.
"Okay, we gonna find your pretty little girl—or she gonna find you, we mean." She tossed back her hair, leaned over the vanity table. She'd laid a fresh cloth on it, a little bowl of water and a candle at one side, and at the other, a brass plate, gummy with the residue of burnt herbs.
She lit the dried herbs she sprinkled on the plate and instructed Dean to inhale, once, twice and then told him to wait. She lit the white candle and in the corner, Dean saw Dotty watching wide eyed, a little confusion, a little amusement lighting up her face. Lu shushed them when they tried to ask questions. She opened a small tin and dropped a red powder into the water and Dean decided enough was enough—he wouldn't be shushed now. "What is that, in the water—what did you throw in?" The red powder made him bristle—something about the sight of it disturbed him, his agitation so obvious that Lu looked at him strangely.
"It's jus' rose petals--dry and groun' up. Jus' to help you concentrate on the water."
Dean nodded and sat back down. The candle had burnt halfway down and his head was spinning a little—maybe from the heat in the room, or the thick smell of the burning herbs. It seemed an age before Lu called him over to the vanity. "Look in the water, and think what you want. You wan' to see your girl come to you, you think that." Dotty nodded in agreement. Despite the evidence of her eyes and ears, Dean knew she expected he would see a girl…he wondered at her ability to block out the truth. Probably came in handy, considering her line of work, he thought. Lu tapped him on the shoulder.
"Come on, boy—concentrate." Dean sighed and looked into the bowl. The rose petal dust was swirling, from the heat of the candle or Lu stirring it when he was distracted maybe…he shuddered. The dancing flame was setting him on edge, and the strange, musky odor of the smoking herbs made his eyes burn and his throat feel hot. A warm flood swept him from toes to head and he felt a sudden lurch of vertigo, but his eyes stayed locked on the bowl. He stared and stared--all he saw was slivers and flecks of red swirling round and round and fought a yawn--nothing was revealed in the water and nothing about it was changing and a little breeze snuck down his collar and was making him shiver. He smelt sage and sun-warmed dust and horses, and…he saw himself. Was he his own true love?
He snorted and sniggered into his palm, tears of laughter gathered in the corner of his eyes--he figured if he let out the bursts of laughter stifled behind his hand the girls would be none too happy. He sucked in a calming breath and gasped it right out when a dark skinned woman was suddenly *there*, inches in front of him. She was staring him down, her face made hard by a thunder-filled frown. After a moment, her frown softened and she reached out to pat his shoulder…"Well, all right," she said with a nod and turned and Dean turned with her to look at….
He blinked and the sunny warmth was gone, along with the good smell of summer—it was just the bowl he saw, half-filled with still water, the flecks of rose petals sinking to the bottom. The candle had gone out, the herbs gone cold. He reached out and touched a fingertip to the water, and lightning flew up the length of his arm and knocked him to the floor. Green—blue—gray—eyes looked into his.
"Winchester."
***
"Oh my God—Dean what happened? You were standing and then you fell, you knocked the bowl over when you did and Lu about had a fit!"
Lu was wringing her hands and looking worried, almost frightened, Dean thought. "Somethin's comin' for you. You keep that on your neck, hear?" She pointed at the charms he wore. After a moment she asked warily, "You…you see her, your true love?"
Dean thought about the sour-faced black woman he'd seen. She hadn't seemed much happy with Dean at all. She'd looked like she wanted to take a strap to him at first, and then she'd just looked…resigned? He was pretty sure that hadn't been his true love. Or else God had a wicked awful sense of humor. "I didn't see anything," he said. "I smelt something though…felt something."
Lu shrugged. "Don' always work," she said and held her hands up. "Don' ask me to do it again."
She wouldn't explain why, just sent Dean to clean up the altar and wash his hands and while Dotty and Lu had tea laced with whiskey, Dean was sent out to the icy back yard, with instruction to throw the water towards the west part of it and bury the candle stub—which he did with enormous ill-grace, cursing the cold, cursing rock-hard dirt, cursing the two comfortably warm ladies enjoying a hot drink while he froze his balls off and no doubt provided them with a ton of amusement with his discomfort. And late as it was, Tobe was probably going to let him have it when he came back home, for not taking care of the animals….
Magic. What they'd done this evening was stupid, Dean thought. What Tobe did, now that was real magic, worthwhile—truly helpful. This stuff Lu and Dotty had him mess with was girl's play, and as useful as tits on a boar. And he would tell them that too, but that Lu had a mean look in her eye….
***
It was like a door had been opened in his mind, with the purpose being to torture him senseless. After the silly magic trick, there was barely a night he slept the whole way through. Nightly someone moved through his dreams, coming closer and closer. This presence, this person, angered and terrified him and made him long so hard for them…all Dean had to do was reach out and touch them and he'd know them. Turn around, if he could just make them turn around…
He woke up sometimes with wet cheeks or he woke up laughing, feeling as if he'd spent time with a wonderful friend, one who understood every feeling and fear and desire he had. It was overwhelming—draining.
He kept it from Tobe. He had the feeling it was something the man wouldn't like at all.
part 16
Author: roxy
Pairings/Characters: Dean/OCs, Sam/OMCs, Dean/Sam
Rating: R for violence
Word Count: 2411
Spoilers: might be considered spoilery for All Hell Breaks Loose
Summary: Sam Winchester is looking for the ultimate weapon, one that will destroy the demon who destroyed his family. Dean Kane was raised to be a maker of weapons. He was just the man Sam needed.
Notes/Warnings: This is my AU version of the Colt's making. Increeeedibly AU. It's completely a child of my wild imaginings. Warnings for sex ( brief het and M/M, incest, rape.) Sections will have individual warnings.
He washed every bit of himself, scrubbed at his hair until he could pull his fingers through and it didn't smell like grease and smoke. He squeezed water out of it and wondered if Missouri would cut it for him. He didn't like it as long as it'd gotten—too dangerous in a fight. He twisted the length into a rope and shoved it under his cap. He dried himself with the surprisingly soft sacking she'd laid out for him and sighed. Nothing for it but to put on the ripe clothes he'd come in with. But on a chair near the end of the pass way, was a man's shirt, and a pair of trousers. He thanked Missouri silently. He'd see about getting some clothes soon as possible, but this should hold him for a day or two at least. The shirt came to just below his hips—the cuffs met his wrists and the pants stopped above the top of his boots, letting an inch of skin breathe free. He shrugged. Hell, wasn't like he was some kind of dandy, fit to make the boys loose their minds.
Whenever loneliness built to the point he couldn't carry it anymore, Dotty made time for him. Dean appreciated it. It wasn't exactly what he wanted but it was close enough, pleasant enough. It was simple, a transaction that provided some relief for him and a reason not to have to talk to Tobe about anything uncomfortable. And it was a chance to talk to someone who…understood, to some extent. Sometimes, he thought that maybe talking to Dotty was the best part of their whole deal. He could speak freely and Dotty…thank God she wasn't one to spill a confidence.
With her on her belly, and her strong back bare to him, he could do it and it was good. Best was when she was on her knees over him, her mouth on him. He could close his eyes and lock his fingers behind his head and just…go away, with his mind full of fox eyes and long brown hair, broad shoulders and narrow hips, he could do it and revel in it.
Christmas was coming up on them quickly. The shop had been busy with repairs and making new items, mostly smaller, home items. It was a nice change from the slow times right after the end of autumn, but being together non-stop, working, with few breaks—Tobe and Dean were both pretty much sick of the sight of each other and more than happy to spend a few days apart. Tobe had gone off on one of his mysterious journeys—which personally Dean figured had to be about a little feminine companionship. And Dean was taking advantage of the break to whittle away some frustration and just…look at a different face, no matter what it cost him.
Dotty had been more than glad to see him, and showed him so. After business had been concluded and they'd cleaned up and were dressed again, Dean stretched out on her bed. She sat at her vanity—an old chair sat in front of table little more than bare few boards nailed together and tied to saw horses, a tin mirror hanging over them—the management only considered the bed to be important. She brushed her braids out, long, strong strokes pulled through red, red hair. Dean watched her, fascinated with the play of muscle in her back, and he wondered why it didn’t make him warm—but he'd long since given up on wishing it would.
"You're quiet tonight," she said and Dean shrugged.
"I suppose. It's just…Tobe's getting worried that…" he stopped and laughed a little before going on, a little blush pinking his cheeks. "Well, he's worried that I might be getting too fond of you…"
Dotty set her brush down and turned to face Dean, crossing her arms under her bare breasts. He took notice that it displayed them nicely and felt a little sorry for her poor neglected bosom. "You mean to tell me," she said, "that man thinks you're sweet on me? Ain't that just darlin'? Guess you cain't tell him otherwise, neither. Poor Dean."
Dean sighed, crossed his legs and lay back on her pillows. She lit candles, and pulled on a dressing gown before coming to sit next to him, cross-legged herself and reclining against the foot board. "Dotty…what do you think it's like, between men?" he asked her.
She lit a cigarette, inhaled like a dragon and passed it to Dean. "Don’t know…messy? Hard?"
He grinned briefly and pressed on. "I mean, do you think men…fall in love? Like women and men do? Want to stay together?"
Dotty snagged the cigarette back and looked thoughtful as she inhaled. "Cain't say as I ever thought about it, but…I'm guessing no. For men, it's all about the fucking. Women fall in love, men just want the trim. Love's for when he wants it all the time and realizes he's got a better chance of that by marrying. And little ones, I guess." She offered the cigarette to Dean and mashed it out when he refused.
"But men do love. I know Tobe thinks the world of me, and I do of him."
"Well, that's different, you fool boy. Parents 'n' children, 'course they love each other. He's like your pa, ain't he? Besides—he's got no one else but you. Ain't likely to have no one around here. You either," she said, ignoring Dean's outburst. "S'true. Most folks think you're simple or they think you're cursed, and almost all of them won't have nothing to do with a nig—colored man. So…all you really got is each other." She sat still, silence thick around them. Dean stared out at the sliver of night showing between the curtains….
"And me, 'course. You got me, I'm your friend," she said, and that made Dean smile.
"Thank you. It helps, that you’re my friend. You know, besides the—you know."
Dotty laughed. "You really are a fool. Listen, don't worry about love. Some day, who knows, maybe some day, some girl is going to turn your head right around and you'll forget all about this man stuff. And if not…hell, sex can be a pretty good substitute for love, trust me on that. I got some whiskey, you want some? Half a glass to settle your nerves?"
Dean sat against the headboard and thought about what Dotty'd said. Men only wanted sex…it didn't seem so. Jan hadn't seemed like that, the kiss didn’t feel like that was all he wanted—granted, it was a long time gone and maybe he'd dressed the memory up a bit. And there was the way he thought about that drover, and he knew that was about more than just sex. He'd felt it, a connection…Dean sighed. Probably never see the boy again in this life. And what if Dotty was right? What if he was even more of a freak and other men like him didn't want more than what he was getting right now?
"Honey, you look like you been dragged down five milesa bad road…you thinking about that stuff still? She looked at him fondly. "You know, if you want to know what the future holds, maybe we can go see this woman one of the girls knows of. She's a cook in a parlor house over in Freemont. She's supposed to be a powerful seer…tell you if love is coming to you some day. Or—we can do a little spell ourselves right now!" She clapped her hands, face alight with glee. "That's what we'll do—we're going to find out who your true love is!"
Dean laughed, and shook his head. "Tobe would have a spittin' fit if he caught me messing around like that."
"Well, there's a lot of things Toby--I mean Tobe--don’t know about you, ain't there? Besides, it's mostly just fun." But the light in her eyes said she didn’t believe that for a minute. "Hold up now!"
She left the room and came back a few minutes later with a tall thin girl, dressed—or undressed—like Dotty. She carried a basket in her hands and she looked Dean up and down with a smirk. "It's unfair you don' choose no one but Dotty. You so pretty, you need to share."
"Oh, shut up Lu, and help this poor love-lorn puppy out. We want to call his one true love."
"My name, since rude Dotty not introduce us properly, is Lucinda. What you want," she frowned, making the mole on her lip dance, "needs a bath and oil and…well, we work with what we have."
Dean watched her curiously, pretty certain that what she was doing was pointless but it made Dotty happy and lord knew entertainment came rarely to them…he sighed and sat where Lu told him to.
"Okay, we gonna find your pretty little girl—or she gonna find you, we mean." She tossed back her hair, leaned over the vanity table. She'd laid a fresh cloth on it, a little bowl of water and a candle at one side, and at the other, a brass plate, gummy with the residue of burnt herbs.
She lit the dried herbs she sprinkled on the plate and instructed Dean to inhale, once, twice and then told him to wait. She lit the white candle and in the corner, Dean saw Dotty watching wide eyed, a little confusion, a little amusement lighting up her face. Lu shushed them when they tried to ask questions. She opened a small tin and dropped a red powder into the water and Dean decided enough was enough—he wouldn't be shushed now. "What is that, in the water—what did you throw in?" The red powder made him bristle—something about the sight of it disturbed him, his agitation so obvious that Lu looked at him strangely.
"It's jus' rose petals--dry and groun' up. Jus' to help you concentrate on the water."
Dean nodded and sat back down. The candle had burnt halfway down and his head was spinning a little—maybe from the heat in the room, or the thick smell of the burning herbs. It seemed an age before Lu called him over to the vanity. "Look in the water, and think what you want. You wan' to see your girl come to you, you think that." Dotty nodded in agreement. Despite the evidence of her eyes and ears, Dean knew she expected he would see a girl…he wondered at her ability to block out the truth. Probably came in handy, considering her line of work, he thought. Lu tapped him on the shoulder.
"Come on, boy—concentrate." Dean sighed and looked into the bowl. The rose petal dust was swirling, from the heat of the candle or Lu stirring it when he was distracted maybe…he shuddered. The dancing flame was setting him on edge, and the strange, musky odor of the smoking herbs made his eyes burn and his throat feel hot. A warm flood swept him from toes to head and he felt a sudden lurch of vertigo, but his eyes stayed locked on the bowl. He stared and stared--all he saw was slivers and flecks of red swirling round and round and fought a yawn--nothing was revealed in the water and nothing about it was changing and a little breeze snuck down his collar and was making him shiver. He smelt sage and sun-warmed dust and horses, and…he saw himself. Was he his own true love?
He snorted and sniggered into his palm, tears of laughter gathered in the corner of his eyes--he figured if he let out the bursts of laughter stifled behind his hand the girls would be none too happy. He sucked in a calming breath and gasped it right out when a dark skinned woman was suddenly *there*, inches in front of him. She was staring him down, her face made hard by a thunder-filled frown. After a moment, her frown softened and she reached out to pat his shoulder…"Well, all right," she said with a nod and turned and Dean turned with her to look at….
He blinked and the sunny warmth was gone, along with the good smell of summer—it was just the bowl he saw, half-filled with still water, the flecks of rose petals sinking to the bottom. The candle had gone out, the herbs gone cold. He reached out and touched a fingertip to the water, and lightning flew up the length of his arm and knocked him to the floor. Green—blue—gray—eyes looked into his.
"Winchester."
"Oh my God—Dean what happened? You were standing and then you fell, you knocked the bowl over when you did and Lu about had a fit!"
Lu was wringing her hands and looking worried, almost frightened, Dean thought. "Somethin's comin' for you. You keep that on your neck, hear?" She pointed at the charms he wore. After a moment she asked warily, "You…you see her, your true love?"
Dean thought about the sour-faced black woman he'd seen. She hadn't seemed much happy with Dean at all. She'd looked like she wanted to take a strap to him at first, and then she'd just looked…resigned? He was pretty sure that hadn't been his true love. Or else God had a wicked awful sense of humor. "I didn't see anything," he said. "I smelt something though…felt something."
Lu shrugged. "Don' always work," she said and held her hands up. "Don' ask me to do it again."
She wouldn't explain why, just sent Dean to clean up the altar and wash his hands and while Dotty and Lu had tea laced with whiskey, Dean was sent out to the icy back yard, with instruction to throw the water towards the west part of it and bury the candle stub—which he did with enormous ill-grace, cursing the cold, cursing rock-hard dirt, cursing the two comfortably warm ladies enjoying a hot drink while he froze his balls off and no doubt provided them with a ton of amusement with his discomfort. And late as it was, Tobe was probably going to let him have it when he came back home, for not taking care of the animals….
Magic. What they'd done this evening was stupid, Dean thought. What Tobe did, now that was real magic, worthwhile—truly helpful. This stuff Lu and Dotty had him mess with was girl's play, and as useful as tits on a boar. And he would tell them that too, but that Lu had a mean look in her eye….
It was like a door had been opened in his mind, with the purpose being to torture him senseless. After the silly magic trick, there was barely a night he slept the whole way through. Nightly someone moved through his dreams, coming closer and closer. This presence, this person, angered and terrified him and made him long so hard for them…all Dean had to do was reach out and touch them and he'd know them. Turn around, if he could just make them turn around…
He woke up sometimes with wet cheeks or he woke up laughing, feeling as if he'd spent time with a wonderful friend, one who understood every feeling and fear and desire he had. It was overwhelming—draining.
He kept it from Tobe. He had the feeling it was something the man wouldn't like at all.
part 16
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