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The Wanting Comes In Waves

All Sam/Dean, All The Time

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fic: Ensnared (Sam/Dean, NC-17) Chapter 3 of 4

Back to Chapter 2

The next thing he knew Sam was licking him clean and then putting him to bed. He drifted off to sleep quickly, feeling safe and untroubled, not worrying about Benny or telling Sam the truth he needed to know.

But still the vines came, but this time they came for him. The dream was darker, yet even more vivid, and he felt he was losing more of his own blood. The vines were slick with it, and still they moved, clicking their thorns eagerly as he watched Benny feed on Sam, unable to move or speak because he was held down, trapped by the vines. The world started going grey around the edges as the last of his blood drained out, he knew he was dying, and Sam was right there, writhing in ecstasy under Benny.

His last vision was of the vines wrapping them both up until neither of their faces showed, all he could see was the blood, soaking the vines until even the thorns weren’t visible.


He sat up in bed, heart pounding with fear, a scream on his lips and more thorns in his palms. Dean splashed a little water on his face and plucked the thorns out. He checked his watch and saw he’d only been asleep for a couple of hours.

“Have you figured this out yet or what?” Dean asked from the doorway of the library.

Sam looked up from the table where he had been thoroughly buried in research. At first, the only answer he gave was a sly smile. “Let’s go get a drink, and I’ll tell you,” Sam said. “I just need to grab something, meet you in the car.”

“Why don’t we just have something here, it’s kind of late to go out now,” Dean suggested.

“That bar you went to the other night, it’ll still be open, right? I just feel like hearing the jukebox or whatever,” Sam said, still smiling that sly almost smirk.

Dean grabbed his keys and waited in the Impala, wondering what was taking so long. Finally, Sam jumped in, wearing his new leather jacket, his hair nicely styled. God, he smelled good. Dean leaned into his space and nuzzled at Sam’s neck.

“You smell so good, Sammy,” Dean said, his head spinning with the scent which brought him back a couple hours to Sam’s head bent over his lap, blowing him so good he’d practically passed out. “And I owe you for earlier.”

Sam pushed him away a little roughly. “C’mon, the sooner we leave, the faster we get back.”


“Hey Shirl! Two of your best on-tap,” Dean said as they sat at the end of the bar.

Shirl smiled and pulled the two beers for them from the tap, setting them in front of Sam and then Dean. She paused and looked at Dean expectantly.

“Yeah, that’s him, this is Sam,” Dean said, pointing a thumb at Sam.

“Nice to meet you finally, Sam, after hearing all about you from this guy,” Shirl said, shaking Sam’s hand with a clink of her large bracelet.

“That’s quite a bracelet, Shirl, where’d you find something so cool in a middle of nowhere place like this?” Sam asked, tipping his glass towards Shirl’s wrist that was almost bumping into the back of Dean’s hand. The sharp golden spines of the bracelet looked like thorns for a moment.

Shirl’s open smile disappeared so abruptly it looked like a switch had been flipped off. Sam felt Dean go into protective mode beside him, his brother was ready for a fight which it might come to depending on what Shirl did next.

“Take whatever you did to him, off—now,” Sam said, pinning Shirl’s non-braceleted wrist to the surface of the bar.

“I did it for Benjamin, my kin deserved better. Something besides a lover who deserted him and then murdered him,” Shirl muttered, eyes gone dark with anger.

“Listen, lady, I’m sorry for what I had to…to do to Benny, I really am. But if you did something to me, you gotta undo it, whatever it is,” Dean said.

“You sliced his head off and buried him, all for what?” Shirl hissed.

Dean looked as guilty as if he’d crashed Baby on purpose.

“We were trying to close the Gates of Hell, and Benny told me he was happier in Purgatory, he was happy to help, and he wanted to stay there,” Sam said when Dean didn’t speak up. He still held Shirl’s wrist pinned to the bar.

“He did?” Both Shirl and Dean asked.

“Yeah, he did, and I’m pretty damn sure he was telling me the truth. Listen, Shirl, I get it, wanting vengeance for something happening to your kin. I’ve done horrible things myself when Dean was…” Sam said, looking down, unable to finish because that horrible list was always so close to the surface.

“What we’re trying to say here, is that there was a good reason for what happened, and that we’re sorry. What else do you want?” Dean asked.

“I want my kin, back here alive, where he belongs,” Shirl hissed, eyes darkening again.

“He wasn’t really alive, and he didn’t belong here. Even he knew he was a man out of time, bringing him back wouldn’t help him, or you,” Sam said, hoping that she’d believe him.

“Uta brought you the dream sickness, and she will take your life’s blood drop by drop, every night that you dream,” Shirl said to Dean with a smirk. “And then your lover will be left alone to mourn you.” She looked at Sam with anger flashing in her eyes.

The sudden burst of anger that Sam felt at hearing Shirl’s words surprised him. He was barely able to keep himself from launching over the bar to strangle her. “You tell this Uta to take away the dream sickness and stay away from Dean—now,” Sam said with a low growl, squeezing her wrist even tighter until her fingers started going red.

“What if I don’t?” Shirl asked with her own growl at the end of her words.

“I’ll sic her right back onto you,” Sam said with the supreme confidence that came from being prepared.

Shirl’s eyes widened in surprise and she gargled out a laugh as she coughed. “Like you’d even know how…”

“Try me,” Sam said, pulling an amulet out of his jacket pocket that matched her bracelet’s pointy thorns. He swung it in front of her face until she seemed to sag in resignation.

“You wouldn’t have the balls to give what it asks of you,” Shirl said with a last blast of bravado.

“Try me,” Sam repeated, tightening his hand on her wrist.

Shirl seemed to take a long time to assess if Sam really meant what he was saying, examining his face closely. “Fine, let go of me so I can do it,” Shirl said.

Sam let go of her wrist but kept his hand nearby just in case she tried to run. He could feel Dean was still in ready-to-fight mode beside him.

Shirl bent over both the bracelet and the bar, her dark hair falling over her face. They could hear some mumbled words, a prayer or incantation maybe, and the name Uta several times. Finally she looked up and smirked at Sam. “It is done.”

“Give me the bracelet,” Dean said.

“No, it was my great-grandmother’s, I can’t,” Shirl said, holding her arm away from them behind her back.

Dean slid a hand into his pocket and pulled out his gun, pointing it at her heart. “Shirl, you know we can’t let you keep it. We’ve got to make sure no one else can get hurt with it.”

“And here I thought you didn’t care who you hurt,” Shirl said, practically spitting with sarcasm.

“We have a way to keep stuff like this from harming other people, and I know you don’t want to keep doing the sacrifices to use that thing,” Sam said.

“How do you know what I want? You don’t know a damn thing about me,” Shirl hissed.

“I know you’re the younger sister of Benny’s granddaughter, and your great-grandmother on your mother’s side was a powerful Zoroastrian priestess. You got sucked into this revenge thing somehow, Shirl. You need to let it go, don’t let it wreck your life,” Sam said.

Shirl folded a little in on herself. “I don’t have anything else.” She undid the clasp on the bracelet and pushed it over towards Sam on the bar.

Sam took out a kerchief and carefully wrapped it up with the matching necklace making sure not to let the sharp tips of the spines touch his skin. “You made the right choice, now hopefully there’ll be room for something good.”

“You know, for what it’s worth, I think you’d make a good relationship counselor, what you said to me actually helped us a lot,” Dean said, thumbing the safety and stowing his gun away.

“I actually do have most of a degree in psychology,” Shirl said, her face brightening a shade with Dean’s praise. “I dropped out when I inherited the bracelet.”

“See, there ya go, go finish it up, and open a practice, or even your own bar. You’ll be golden,” Dean said.

“But no more messing with daevas, you got it?” Sam asked with a stern yet still friendly smile.

“I won’t, it made me feel…dark inside. You were right about that, I didn’t like it,” Shirl said.

Sam stood up and waited for Dean to join him at the front door.

“I meant what I said about your good advice, it…uh, it really helped us. That’s probably the only reason you’re still breathing, you got it?” Dean said, hoping he was quiet enough that Sam wouldn’t hear either his confession or his threat.

“Did you love him?” Shirl asked.

“No, it wasn’t love, but he was what I needed at the time and I think I was that for him too,” Dean admitted.

“You’ve only ever loved Sam, right?” Shirl asked.

“Is it that obvious?” Dean asked with a smirk thrown Sam’s way. “Bye, Shirl.” He waved to her and joined Sam at the door, tucked his hand into Sam’s back pocket and steered them out into the parking lot.


Chapter 4