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speckledspout · 7 years

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instinct makes you blind

square filled: scent kink ship: sam/dean rating: mature ao3 link tags: purgatory, canon-typical violence summary: "This was their land. This was their domain. They knew how to hunt down here. They knew how the shadows moved and how to stay hidden. The coin was flipped. It landed on tails. Sam had lost and now he was the hunted." It was a mistake, the way that Sam ended up in Purgatory. And Dean sent seven long months figuring out a way to get his brother back, not really knowing if Sam was still fighting for his life down there or if he was fighting for nothing. word count: 2.6+ a/n: unbetaed and unedited. as always, thoughts, comments and opinions are always welcomed. written/created for @spnkinkbingo

It was just as he remembered. Calm. Pure. Had his instincts on edge because he knew what laid just past those trees, what was lurking in the shadows, sniffing at the air. It was the same damn things that he killed when he walked the Earth upstairs and now they prowled the land down here.

But the thing was, as he breathed in the air that he hadn’t had in his lungs in ages, he could feel his heart slowing down, going back in that hunter instinct that kept him alive for a year. However the long that he stood there, breathing the air, reminiscing about this place, the less time that he had to search for his brother.

He glanced down at his watch. The twenty-four hours that he was given was slowly starting to melt away and he had a never ending place to search.

He rewrapped his fingers around the blade that he managed to save from his first time here and set off in a general direction, hoping that the pull that he felt in his chest was going to take him to his brother.

“I’m gonna find you, Sam.” Dean whispered out into the void, to the monsters that watched him before the forest swallowed him whole.

So this was what it was like. What Dean had described and for the first time since Sam found his brother, for the first time since Dean confessed everything he did down here and why he was so on edge up there, he could understand why Dean wanted to stay.

He was right. There was something about it that was pure. There was some kind of sick, calming feeling about the place. The fact that there was no more wrong or right, there was just the constant fight for your life, it settled him. Sam had been a soldier for his whole life and the realization that there were no more morals in this place, cleared his mind.

That was what Purgatory was.

A battle that he would never win but he would keep fighting.

All he was doing was buying time until he took his last breath at the hands of the same monsters that he once thought would no longer exist. And for what it mattered, they didn’t exist anymore. Humans weren’t supposed to go to Purgatory so humans were safe from the monsters he killed.

He never stayed in one place for long. It wasn’t that unusual from the way that he lived when he was still on Earth only down here he didn’t stay in a single place for more than a few hours. The longer that he stayed in a single place, the stronger that his scent got and that made him a target, a beacon for every creature down here.

Unlike Dean, Sam had yet to befriend a vampire to help him get out of this place but then again the night was still young. He’d only been in here for seven months now.

He never settled. Not even for a night.

A couple hours here.

A couple hours there.

He couldn’t afford to sleep more than a few hours at a time.

Recently though, he could feel that there was something different in the air. There seemed to be a certain electricity to it. Everything was on edge. The monsters, the animals. Even the plants around him. It all seemed as if it was waiting for something.

Maybe it was his death.

Maybe not.

But there was something different. He couldn’t deny that. The air was practically simmering around him. Something new… something big had happened. Some monster who thought it was the big bad upstairs was now done here, an equal to every other monster, fighting for it’s life.

Sam halfway wondered if Dean was the one that killed the new arrival.

Something moved off to his right. His nose twitched as his fingers tightened around the blade that he had stolen off the body of some vampire that he killed when he first got down here. His gun that had saved him more times than he could count up there on the surface was now completely useless. It was amazing as something as simple as running out of bullets could render him completely vulnerable.

A snarl snapped his attention back to the left. A snarl that he’s heard too many times down here. It was the snarl of a monster that was about to pounce.

Everything around him seemed to slow down as he waited. This was the build up. The monster would make him wait, make his heart slowly start to speed up until it got to the point that it was about to bust, have the adrenaline race through his veins until he couldn’t stand still anymore and then… right when he was about to scream out in frustration, the thing would finally uncoil from the shadows and attack. However, by this point he’ll already have too many hormones racing through his body and his heart is racing too fast for him to react to anything. And that’s how they got him.

At least down here.

This was their land. This was their domain. They knew how to hunt down here. They knew how the shadows moved and how to stay hidden. The coin was flipped. It landed on tails. Sam had lost and now he was the hunted.

Never on the offense. Always on the defense.

Sam saw the shadow of some monster that didn’t matter what it was anymore move, just barely. Decapitation was the way to go for every monster. And if he couldn’t get to their head, he went for the knees. It’s kinda hard to walk when you don’t have knees. Then, after that, of course he would chop off the head, burn the body if he had the time and opportunity.

One moment he was standing up on his two feet, waiting for the other shoe to drop and then the next his blade was inches from his fingertips and the claws of some monster dug into his back, pushing him further into the dirt and mud and leaves that lined the ground of Purgatory.

Sam shuddered as the thing ducked its head, its nose brushing the back of his neck, inhaling the smell of Sam.

The monster exhaled in pleasure.

“I haven’t smelled human flesh in years,” the thing sighed. “Not since you hunters—” He dug his claws in hard into Sam’s back, pushing him down even more. “Sent me to this godforsaken place.

Sam swallowed thickly before speaking. “I wouldn’t say that this is a godforsaken place. I mean, the monsters are a little annoying down here but the overall ambiance is nice.” He said, trying to buy himself just a little bit more time to reach for his blade. If he had it in his hands then he might have a chance of surviving.

The monster chuckled as he wrapped its claws around Sam’s outstretched wrist, pulling his hand back towards his body. Sam cursed internally.

“You’re funny. I like that. I’ve always liked a show with my meal.” He sniffed Sam again. “It’s a shame though, you don’t have that much meat on your bones. A little too lean if you ask me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to inconvenience you but living in the scum of Purgatory doesn’t mean that I can eat all that well. The last time I checked, they don’t have any fine dining establishments down here.”

The monster only replied by digging its claws deeper into Sam’s back. Sam swore that it was drawing blood by now.

“I’ve been tracking you for a while now. You’re a pretty little thing— even despite the fact that you’re covered in mud and grime. I haven’t had a good meal in a while now. You know, human flesh always tasted so… sweet. Almost like chocolate. And oh so tender.” The monster hummed, sniffing at Sam’s hairline again. “I’m going to enjoy eating you even though you’re not as meaty as I like my meals.” The creature dug its claws in one last time before it flipped Sam around.

This one, like so many of the other monster that crawled the filthy ground of Purgatory, he had never seen before. Its face almost looked human, its feature though, were drawn too tight, almost stretching out his face. Sam didn’t know the proper way of killing this monster but down in Purgatory, it didn’t really matter.

And it especially didn’t matter when it was about to eat him.

This wouldn’t be a bad way to go though. After everything, it would seem right. Sam fought his good fight, did what he could to survive but Purgatory was no place for a human. And the thought of fighting for the rest of his life, stuck between heaven and hell, took everything out of Sam. His body wouldn’t last that long. It was time to make peace with his maker, hope that when he finally did die, he went somewhere good— and that Dean Winchester knew that he always loved him.

That was going to be Sam’s biggest regrets, never telling Dean how he really felt about him. Sure there were nights when they would slip in bed with each other and lay praise to each other’s bodies like no brother should but in the morning, when the sun would break through the room, neither one of them would talk about it.

It wasn’t a dirty secret, one that they wanted to hide but it was a secret nonetheless.

“You really are a pretty little thing.” One cold, hard claw traced down the side of Sam’s face and Sam knew that it wanted to get some kind of rise out of him but Sam didn’t react, wouldn’t give it that satisfaction. Sam laid under it, perfectly still, staring up into those lifeless eyes. “I’m glad that it was you that came down here. I was never a picky eater when it came to humans but at they say, presentation is everything. Makes the meal taste a hell of a lot better.”

Its claw continued its way down Sam’s face, along Sam’s throat, down his chest.

“Do you have a preference as to what I eat first? Hmm?” The monster waited for a response but none came. “No? Okay. I just wanted to make sure. You know, I can still remember when I was still walking upstairs, I would just dive right into my meal without asking what they wanted first. Kind of a dick thing to do, huh? Well, I just thought that I would right some of my wrongs now. I think every part of you taste delicious although…”

Then a gruff voice that Sam hadn’t heard in ages broke through the eerie stillness that had settled all around them, surprising both him and the monster. “Hey asshat, didn’t your momma ever teach you not to play with your food?”

The monster turned to look at the man behind it and it barely said another word when its head was rolling to the side and its body fell on top of Sam, heavy and dead.

Sam was already reacting, crawling out from underneath the monster. For the first time ever, he was finally on the offense. He grabbed his fallen blade and pointed it towards the man that looked like his brother but he knew couldn’t be.

The smile that was on Dean’s face quickly disappeared as he saw that Sam was just as prepared to attack him like he was some kind of other monster.

“Sam?” Dean questioned, holding his hands up, dropping the blade he was holding to the ground. “Sam, it’s—”

“Don’t!” Sam hissed, rising his blade even higher in a warning. “Don’t you dare say that you’re Dean Winchester. I’ve already danced this dance. Just turn back to your normal shifter— or whatever— self and I might let you walk.... Or I might not. I should kill you just on principle alone thinking that you could feel me into thinking that you’re actually him.”

But the monster didn’t change its form. He stayed in the same shape of Dean and took another step closer towards Sam.

“Sam, just listen to my voice. Okay? Just listen to my voice and think. It’s me, Sammy. It’s me. You know that a shifter can’t really sound like me. Just focus on my voice.”

He continued to talk and Sam listened because what else was he supposed to do. If this thing was really a shifter and thought that it could fool Sam into thinking that it really was Dean then Sam was going to let him. This was going to be an even better way to die. Maybe he could finally tell Dean, this thing, the way he felt. That he was in love with him. Always had been.

Sam lowered his blade and he could see that the man in front of him relaxed, just for a moment, a small smile jumping to his lips before it disappeared.

“You still don’t believe it’s actually me, do you?” He questioned, watching Sam.

Sam closed his eyes and shook his head.

“You’re not really him. I know that. He’s upstairs fighting the good fight. He’s not down here. I know that you want to kill me. Each and everyone of you wanted to kill me since I stepped foot in this place and... “ He took a deep breathe. “I’m tired. I’m just tired. I don’t wanna fight anymore and hey, it wouldn’t be too bad of a way to go. I would get to see the man that I love one last time. Even if it is just a cheap knock off, some monster wearing his skin.”

Sam would sense the monster step closer to him, the smell that was totally and completely Dean almost overpowering and Sam still didn’t open his eyes. He didn’t want to notice those small imperfections that the monster had forgotten to add.

Dean’s large, calloused hands held either side of Sam’s face, pulling him closer to him and Sam went willingly. And when the monster kissed Sam, he allowed himself to believe that it was the real Dean that was kissing him.

He let his mind remember every moment that he had spent with Dean.

He forced himself to forget that this was some monster that he was kissing.

What was scary was the fact that it was almost too easy to forget. This monster was so much like Dean. His fingers were calloused, a little rougher than Sam remembered but they felt right. His lips were just as soft. His body just as rigid. And he smelled like Dean. Gunpowder and whiskey and sweat and something that was so uniquely Dean that it couldn’t be mimicked.

Slowly Sam opened his eyes only to see that a pair of green eyes were staring right back at him.

Those freckles that Sam spent years counting lined the bridge of his nose. All those constellations that Sam had memorized were still there, begging to be named just one more time.

Realization came over Sam like a wave, leaving him weak and shaking.

“Dean?” Sam whimpered?

He smiled, lines pulling at the corner of his eyes.

“It’s really you, isn’t it?”

Dean nodded and Sam could hardly keep from crying.

With shaking fingers Sam reached out and traced Dean’s lips. The same lips that he never thought that he would ever feel on his skin again. Then he buried his head in the crook of Dean's shoulder and breathed deeply, letting the scent of Dean, everything Dean, replace the smell of Purgatory that he had grown so accustom to.

“I’m here to take you home brother.”

tagging: @justanothersaltandburn, @purgatoan, @corrupteddean, @pictures-over-words, @wetsammywinchester, @itsnotsammy, @golly-god, @bowlegdean, @ilostmyshoe-79, @the-mrs-deanwinchester, @oh-jesus-sammy, @ramblingmandean, @clearlylostmymind, @hes-my-brother, @silentsam, @nasleypurple, @nisaki-chan, @xdeanskittenx, @they-call-me-winchester, @random-fireworks, @spngirl00, @therealactualbatman, @fantasygeek, @jannalionheart, @winmance, @wincestytypeoflove

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#spnkinkbingo #scent kink #ish i guess #sam/dean #wincest #wow ac two fics in one day #and they're both over 2k words #amazing #mine #mywincest #if comments be the food of life comment on #this is actually awful #i apologize

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