Lost Time Ch. 14

[dime_liora]

Title: Lost Time Chapter 14/27
Wordcount: 9,685
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Dean/Sam, Gabriel/OFC
Warning(s): Violence, Sex, Expletives, Mentions of an Abusive Relationship
Notes: Still very AU. If you like this, thank sammichgirl, who told me it was time to make it public. :) If you don't it's totally not her fault.
Summary: Sam Burton has an average life, a foul-mouthed sister, and a dream of putting his past behind him. All of that changes when Dean Winchester comes to stay.

First part
Previous part

Dean slid out of bed after Sam fell asleep and winced once at the movement before heading to the bathroom. The hand came first, and it didn't take long to rub on the burn cream and wrap it with bandages. He cleaned up, marveled at how big the kid was, and then narrowed his eyes and headed down the stairs with the extra burn cream and bandages. He found her on the computer with a cigarette clenched between her teeth and some soft and sad music playing as she scrolled through a website. He stood behind her, one hand on the back of her chair to throw her off her balance even as he stared at the screen. She was apparently shopping for black mirrors, and when she picked one she jumped to another window and bought peacock feathers, a variety of herbs Dean dimly recognized, and a bottle of oil. He finally gave up and took her burned hand before applying the same first aid to it he'd used on his own. She kept shopping instead of paying attention to what he was doing.

When she finally pushed back from the computer the cigarette was burned to the filter and she pushed it into the ashtray and spun around to study him. “You’re angry.”

“Little bit. Also grateful, but I can ignore that. How long were you planning that little game?” He controlled his tone as best he could. He had a feeling she wasn’t as strong as she could be right now. That something had changed between them and he didn’t know what it was.

“Since this morning. We’re doing the summoning on New Year’s Eve. I need you to be prepared for anything because it could get fucking weird.” She stood, side-stepped him and then stopped. Her shoulders slumped and her head hung low. She didn’t turn around when she spoke again. “I’m sorry Dean. The two of you-somebody had to push. I may have pushed too hard.”

He felt temporary guilty and then remembered the way she’d played him, pushed him to the brink and then watched him fall like he was a piece on a chess board. “That’s not the way you treat friends Ope.” It was his way of tempering the anger of his words. Using the nickname Sam used with her, the one she’d insisted he use too. He knew she’d understand.

“Yeah. Well neither us is very good with friends are we Dean?” She rubbed the back of her neck and then stepped away. “Sam’s gonna need to wake up in an hour. That roast will be done. I’ll be back tonight. Loki decided to fly after all.” She headed for the door and Dean felt a flare of panic he couldn’t explain, instincts screaming against letting her leave like this.

“Where are you going?”

She turned around finally, her face twisting to gain control but her eyes full of turmoil. “I need cigarettes. Gonna get Loki's dumbass from the airport while I'm out.” She left the room without more, and Dean let her go.

He flipped through her notes for a little while before heading upstairs. She’d decided on Jana, but he couldn’t quite figure out why. He had the sneaking suspicion she’d hidden some of the pages. He wandered the house for a bit, studied the souvenirs and artifacts, and then headed back into the bedroom. The time to wake Sam was rapidly approaching and Dean knew he needed to do it a bit early. They’d have to talk. The sun had already set, and he clicked the lamp off so that they’d be in darkness when Sam woke up. It was the easiest way to do this.

When he shook Sam the younger man woke slowly and then spoke in a slurred tone. “What time?”

“About time for dinner. We gotta talk Sam.” It felt wrong crossing his lips, but it couldn’t be avoided. Sam’s head jerked his way, and in the dark Dean could make out only the outline. He stepped in before Sam could start panicking. “It’s not bad. It’s just serious. I need to be honest with you.”

Sam took in a sharp breath under him and Dean felt the body go tense, watched the head turn away slightly towards the door. He didn’t understand the response exactly, but he got the gist of it. He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on Sam’s temple. “Just listen before you freak ok? I can’t do this twice.”

He nodded against Dean’s lips, and Dean stayed there and spoke into Sam’s skin. He could smell Sam’s shampoo, the lingering scent of sweat and sex in the room, and he took a deep inhalation of it before he continued. “My brother isn’t dead. I know because Ophelia summoned something and found out. I’m asking her to do it again so I can find him. When I do I’m going to have to leave and save him. After that I won’t be back 'til I know he’s stable and whole and ok. I wasn’t lying earlier, I meant every word Sam. What we just did was my way of…yeah. I think you got that part.” Dean took a shaky breath before rushing on.

“When I find him he’s going to get first priority. He has to. I failed him once and I won’t again. I will be back though. In the meantime I’m staying here 'til New Year’s, and I want us to get to know each other better. Whatever this is, this thing between us, I want to know what not to say and do. I don’t want to hurt you like I did this morning. Ok?”

Sam was silent for a long time, and then he felt big hands grab his face and Sam tilted his own to press their lips together. Dean could feel the wet tracks on Sam’s face, the trembling in his lips, and he let Sam control it for a long time before he pulled back. When Sam finally spoke his voice was husky and thick. “Yeah. Ok.” Dean left it at that. Pulled back and flicked the lamp on to see Sam wince away from the sudden light and rub at his wet eyes.

He had to look away, head for the kitchen, hide the vulnerability he knew would be in his face away from Sam 'til he could control it fully.

---

Ophelia Burton knows a lot of things about a lot of things. She can tell you the exact amount of pressure necessary to get ink just deep enough without drawing much if any blood. She can describe the necessary herbs and crystals to draw poisons out of the body. She can explain in detail the chemical process that allows the feeling of floating joy she has right now. What she can't explain is how Loki, who is slight and kind of soft, is the only man in the bar that interests her at all. Peter, who has had his eye on her for years, is sitting beside her as Loki nods and smiles at him like the guy isn't interrupting their conversation at all.

His hand is on her thigh, and honestly she's fucking sick of it. She's taken it off three times, but the burly bastard isn't getting the hint. Finally he crosses the last line when he puts his arm around her shoulder and leans in to speak loudly, as if the music volume requires that sort of bullshit. "Let's step outside baby. Leave the geek and I'll slip you some real muscle."

Loki's smile only gets brighter, warmer, and that's confusing enough, but before she can take Pete's fingers and snap them Loki is up, around the table, and grabbing the much larger man by his shoulder.

"Alright there Petey boy, I think the lady's done being pawed. Let's just step over here and let her have some air." His voice is gentle, kind, and yet Peter is stumbling behind him like Loki's about to just pick the asshole up off the ground and carry him. Pete doesn't struggle though, and seconds later Loki is taking him out the front door and then coming back and wiping his hands. He takes the spot Pete just emptied and nudges her shoulder.

"Thought that guy would never leave."

There's something going on here. Something she can't really explain, but she's pretty sure she should be able to. People have energies. It's a thing she's learned from her practices, and she knows that to properly work with those energies they have to be recognizable. She can get there in a ritual space, but with pot and whiskey in her system she's already half-way to trance state and she still can't see Loki's. She can feel it though, like fire and lightning crackling around him and caressing her skin. He's energized, sparkling, and it's something that she wants to put her fingers on. Wants to taste.

"Yeah. Ok. Hey Loki?"

"Call me Gabe sweetcheeks. You've earned it."

That gives her pause, and she licks whiskey off her lips and considers the offer for a moment. "Like Gabriel?" He nods once and smirks broadly. "Ok. I wanted to say thanks. For coming out for Sammy. It means a lot to him."

Gabriel cocks his head at her and then smiles again in that way that has her reconsidering the distance she keeps putting between them. "That what you wanna talk about? Sammy?"

Maybe it is. Maybe it isn't. She really wants to taste that smile, and he sips the fruity concoction she's still not sure how he got the bartender here to make as she thinks about it. This is not the best time to make decisions, but it's been months since she got laid and this isn't the worst option on the table. At least Sam kind of likes the guy. So she makes a decision, because fuck it. Life is short.

"You know that big barn at the end of the driveway before the house? Looks like it should be fucking haunted?" Gabriel nods once and the smile becomes a smirk again. She kind of likes that too. "You have twenty minutes to get me there before I rethink dropping my panties for you. Think you can handle that Gabe?"

He surprises her when he picks her up, but she lets herself be carried out of the bar as several of the patrons laugh and then the car is speeding through the night, and it takes way less time than it's ever taken to get home. How Gabriel doesn't get pulled Ope can't figure out, but she lets herself be carried to the door and points him to the stairs. She's never had sex here before, but she'll be damned if she does it where Sam can hear. He'll never let her live it down. Plus she'd like him to have a little more time alone with Dean. That's the last she thinks about that though, because Gabriel is crashing into her ritual space and looking around.

"Holy shit Opey. You're a witch?" He's looking over the altar as she slides out of his arms and digs around for the yoga mat. Just something to soften the floor a bit.

"Yep. Problem with that?" She can hear the defensiveness in her voice, but fuck that too because if he changes his mind she can finish herself off. That's another thing she knows how to do.

"Nope. Not even a little. Let's see your pantheon here. You got Iaso. Nice and subtle. So for the male side you-" His voice falters and then he looks at her. There's an expression there she wasn't prepared for, and it makes her hands stop on the laces of the corset top. His hand is on the little statue, and that should bother her but it doesn't. "Why?" There's something there again. His voice is almost hard, and she can't understand this shift in him, but she finishes the laces before she answers. Gives him time to consider if this is really what he wants to talk about while she slides the fabric over her head and bares everything above the waist. The lights are dim enough he may not be able to see the scars, but from the way his already narrowed eyes slit to tiny bits of amber she imagines he can. This may end with her fingers after all. At least one hand is still fully usable.

"Why what?" She slips her fingers over her left nipple but he can't seem to be derailed now. That feeling from before, of barely restrained power, it's all coming back as his stride eats the wooden floor and his hands land heavy on her shoulders. Maybe she should be scared, but Ophelia has never been good at being scared.

"Why that one? That's not a god. You're supposed to pick gods. You like healing magic you pick Apollo or Dhatri. Not that. Why that?" His voice is cold. Bitter and hateful. Arousal dies hard and fast.

"You're getting a little heavy there Gabriel. Wanna dial it back a step or two?" She's not scared. Not at all. "I picked it because I picked it. It has nothing to do with you."

"I don't-" He stops then and glances back over his shoulder at the little figurine and it's trumpet before he looks back to her. "Just tell me why."

Well that's a loaded question, and Ophelia would much prefer to be on her back right now but it appears they're going to have their first serious conversation in ever.

"I was raised Catholic. I thought-I wanted something to be-ah fuck man. Really? This is what we're doing here? I picked it because I always loved the guy a little ok? He got a bad fucking job, and little recognition, and this huge fucking responsibility. I could relate to that. I wanted to have something on my altar that touched me personally, and that did. Now are we gonna fuck or are you gonna hit me, because I can't tell from your expression."

For a moment, just one, she thinks he will. Instead he drops to his knees and her panties are off in record time before she feels his tongue lapping hard and fast against her clit. It's shocking, sudden, and her head spins. Honestly she'd fall down, but Gabriel's hands are on the backs of her thighs holding her up and keeping her steady. Something just happened, something significant, but it's hard to puzzle out when his fingers are slipping into her and she's fucking keening while she holds onto his soft hair. Somehow she gets onto her back, and those same fingers work at the flesh of her thighs and part them farther while his tongue does things she didn't even know existed. It's wicked, hard, but there's desperation and Ope knows that feeling all too well to miss it or confuse it for something else.

She works the buckles of the skirt, fumbles with the zipper, and then it's loose and she's pulling on his shoulders because she wants to come with his dick in her, but Gabriel is having none of it. Instead he's eating her like she's seen him eat banana splits on the computer screen and making noises like it's the best meal he's ever had. Which is great. Just great, but she's pretty sure she's ripping his hair out and she can't stop. When her orgasm hits her it's like he touched her with a live wire, and her back arches off the floor as he licks her through it and to the other side. She's laughing breathlessly and overstimulated when he slips in, and he's pretty fucking big so that's an accomplishment all its own. His messy face kisses over her cheeks and along her jaw.

"Say it again." His voice is breathy, hot and sexy all at once, and she remembers all the times he flirted with her and she thought it was cute but childish. She'll never make that assumption again.

"Say what?" The last word comes out high as his fingers reconnect with the little bundle of nerves and she gets right on the edge of orgasm again. "What?"

"About Gabriel. Touching you personally." He laughs, no light-hearted amusement just sex and sin, and then he eats the moans from her mouth.

"Shut the fuck-oh shit-oh Gabriel!" She comes again, and he follows her seconds later. They lay there for a while, sweaty and sticky on the yoga mat, and then he rolls off and out but keeps a hold of her good hand.

"You pray to him?" There's that edge again, and that's weird because she's so limp and weak right now she can't imagine getting up the energy to talk about religion. Still, it sounds important, and the guy did just give her the best sex of her life.

"Yeah. Sometimes. Why?" She fumbles for a second and finds her cigarettes. Lights one and offers him the pack but he shakes his head once and closes those amber eyes.

"What do you ask for?"

"World peace. An end to hunger. The Sox to win the fucking Series." She takes a deep drag and then exhales slowly. "Weird internet recluses to come to my home and fuck me silly."

"Seriously Ophelia. What do you pray for?" Now there's something gentle, and it makes her feel warm and fuzzy in a way she really doesn't want to. This is just sex. That's important to remember, because he'll be gone and she's not getting attached. She cannot afford to get attached.

"I pray for Sam. For his safety, and his sanity. I pray that when I'm dead he'll be taken care of. It never gets me anywhere, but that's what prayer is right? Throwing quarters in fucking fountains and hoping something will listen just this once."

Gabriel opens one eye and his fingers draw lazily over the thick scar on her hip. A knife wound from her one and only lost bar brawl. "What makes you think you're gonna die?"

She thinks of the medication in a box under her bed, can picture the label and the childproof cap like it's right there in front of her. Half-full and useless just like everything else. "The same reason you do. Mortality is ultimately temporary. This is really fucking heavy Gabe. How about we just take a few minutes, get our breath back, and then get our clothes fully off and do that again?"

He doesn't give her a few minutes.

----

Dinner was going to be awkward. Sam knew it, couldn’t avoid it, Ophelia would be weird and Dean would be…

It was strange to think of Dean as emotionally vulnerable. He could still hear the shake to the older man’s voice, could only imagine what it was like for a guy like to Dean to let himself be held down and entered like that. It meant a lot to Sam, shit it meant everything, but he didn’t know what to do about it. Didn’t know how to respond. His graduation was tomorrow and as it stood he had a mess to fix here before he could even consider it. When he came out into the kitchen he was surprised to only find Dean. He was about to go to the stairs and shout for her but Dean shook his head and pulled the roast out of the oven.

“She went to get cigarettes and pick up Loki. Said she’d be back later.” Dean’s face stayed on the roast pan, pulling back the tinfoil and barely dodging the barrage of steam. Sam watched him silently for several minutes and then scrounged up what courage he had left.

“I cut myself. It wasn’t Brady.” Dean’s eyes flew up from the food and met Sam’s from across the room. Disbelief, shock, confusion all evident on his face. “I was detoxing badly. Ope was supposed to be gone, and I was in the bathroom. I kept thinking-well it doesn't matter. I just thought I needed to. I believed if I was gone before she and Jeff got back I couldn't hurt them or taint them. When she came back I’d broken a mirror, and I had cut myself. I was in the water and- I remember it dimly, but I can’t really explain it. I thought-shit I thought I wouldn’t have organs. I was sure that I was such a freak if I opened myself up I’d bleed funny colors and there’d be nothing there but dust. She made this sound like an animal caught in a trap. I'll never forget that part.”

Dean’s hand twitched once and then lifted and rubbed at his mouth. “What’d you find?”

“Just how hard Ophelia can hit if you push her.” He could remember her screaming, remember the panic, and most of all he remembered the tears. “I couldn’t explain it to her at the time. It wasn’t a suicide attempt it was an urge for discovery. She kept me tied down the rest of the time until it all ended.”

Dean glanced at his stomach once, and then looked back up. “Ok. Where’d you learn to cook?”

Sam paused, not the question he’d expected, and then he took the bait. A break from the confessions was an incredible temptation. “Fourth foster home. Dinner was one of my chores so I taught myself out of cookbooks from the school library.” He crossed the room and took over cutting the roast and serving it up with the vegetables. “Turns out I had a knack for it. When I moved in with Ope and Jeff I kind of took over. They're both terrible cooks.”

They took seats at the kitchen table and Dean bit into the meat first, eyes closing and mouth curling into a smile. “It’s damn good Sammy. I don’t get much in the way of home-cooked food.”

Sam watched him eat for a minute before he dug in himself. After a while Dean spoke again, mouth full of roasted potatoes. “My dad and I traveled all the time, and before I could hunt he would leave me for days at a time in these shitty motel rooms. He’d buy a week’s worth of cereal and Chef Boyardee and then leave me with it. I always felt so adult, picking my own meals and using the hotplate and all, but nowadays when I think back…” Dean looked at his plate thoughtfully. “But when he’d come back and we’d travel we’d go to diners and have the best food. At least I thought that, but so far you’ve blown almost all of them out of the water.”

Sam swallowed hard and took a bite of roast, chewed it, gave himself a moment. “Not all of them?” He had to grin when he said it, the tone light and jesting.

“Well Sam, you’re good, but we stopped at this one little place in Tennessee with ribs that literally melted in your mouth. The day you beat them is the day I marry yah.” Dean’s grin is everything, sunshine and light and Sam doesn’t bother reading into it or making it something else. This is good, this light-hearted joking, the easy air between them, and he wants it to stay forever even if he knows they’re both too damaged to keep it up.

They finish dinner, he sets up plates for Ope and Loki and wraps them before boxing the rest of the leftovers separately. When they settle on the couch with two beers and leave the TV off Sam finally broaches a subject he almost passed over earlier. “Ophelia is summoning things? When did that start?” She certainly hadn’t mentioned it.

“She did it on her trip before I left. I promised we'd keep you out of it.” Dean scratched at the back of his neck and looked around the room for a second. “Kinda dropped that ball.”

“It’s dangerous isn’t it?” It would explain keeping it from him. He’s not surprised, a little disappointed really, but not surprised. Dean grimaces slightly and finally meets Sam’s eyes. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t have to really, and Sam puts one hand on his knee. “I wish my family loved me half as much as you love your brother.”

He leaves it at that, doesn’t need to say more really because it’s true and Dean understands what he means. It’s ok. She knows what she’s doing, and Dean wouldn’t let her go into too much danger. He’s one of the good guys.





----





Sam waited up for Ophelia, and when they came in through the door at three in the morning with her hair mussed and Loki's shirt on backwards he raised an eyebrow and then pointed at the fridge. “Plates in there for you two. Also, we have to be at the ceremony in five hours.”

She didn’t look up, brushed hair out of her face, dropped a CVS bag on the table, and then went to the fridge and pulled out a can of coke. She sat across from him and played with the can before speaking. Loki ruffled his hair and then disappeared. “I went too far earlier. I’m sorry.”

“You apologize to Dean?” Sam watched her face, didn’t see a response and wondered just how badly she was twisting inside and what was doing it.

“Yeah. I'm a bitch. We all knew it.” She rubbed at her eyebrow and Sam saw the strange letters on her right and left ring fingers, puffy red outlining black letters. He got up, moved closer, and took her hands.

“You went to the shop. What do these say? Are they runes or Greek?” He studied the symbols that lined both fingers carefully. Traced along the outside of one.

“Etrsucan. The right hand says future and the left says past. You should really get some sleep Sam.” She opened the can, took a long gulp, and then stood and grabbed up her bag. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

"Hey Ope?" She turned and looked at him. "Grats on sleeping with Loki."

She gave him the finger with a broad smile and walked off. He didn’t try to stop her, she’d talk when she was ready, and he didn’t bring up the summoning. He wanted her to tell him first. Instead he went to bed, found Dean lying awake in the dark, and climbed in with him.

“You could have gone to sleep.” Sam nudged Dean once, and was surprised when a strong hand gripped the side of his head and pulled him over so he was pillowed on Dean’s shoulder.

“Shut up.” It was fond enough Sam took no offense, and he fell asleep easily.





----



Sam stared in horror at the bathroom for roughly five minutes before he headed into the kitchen. He found her lounging at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in one hand and a piece of toast in the other. She put the toast down long enough to light a cigarette and Sam felt a strong wave of déjà vu.

“I can clean it up.” Her face said she knew what he was thinking, that she was both amused and wary.

“The sink is black. Not a little black. A lot.” He smiled broadly, all forgiven, all well, she could relax and she took the message. “And your hair is black now too. So there’s the culprit. Why is your hair black?”

Dean came in behind him and he felt the other man jerk once and grunt in surprise. She gripped a hunk of her hair and peered at it, still playing along. “Why son of a bitch. It is black. That’s new.” Dean’s look of confusion when they both started laughing loudly was priceless, and Sam couldn’t find the air to explain the joke. Loki came in halfway through and simply smiled as he took Ope's toast and sprinkled sugar on it.

She tapped her watch once and nodded towards the door. “We have an hour. You boys gonna be ready?”

Dean nodded and grabbed her remaining piece of toast, nimbly dodging when she sent a slap his way. He spoke through a mouthful, crumbs flying. “We’re men. We get ready much more quickly than you ladies.”

Sam narrowed his eyes and considered that. “Dean how much hair gel do you use on a regular basis?” He laughed again at Dean’s offended face, and Ope and Loki joined him once more. He didn’t miss the way the green eyes danced, the light that shined in them, or the tiny curl at the edge of pouting lips.

They left on time despite Dean taking in the way they were all dressed up and going to change his clothes. Sam studied the final choice and nodded once in appreciation before gesturing for the door, the garment bag with his robe and hat hanging over his shoulder.

They parted company at the doorway. Ophelia led him upstairs and helped with the honors stole and cords he had earned. She fixed his hat carefully, fidgeted with his tie, and then went up on tiptoes and waited for him to lean just that last set of inches so she could kiss his cheek. “I’m so fucking proud of you Sam.”

He smiled at her fondly, watched her sparkling eyes as she slipped off to head for the bleachers, and then got into his own place. They waited for what seemed forever, people chatting around him until their line was finally called and they marched in formation to their seats. The crowd was huge, and Sam didn’t bother looking for Dean amongst all those people. He took his seat and waited through what seemed like hours of speeches, including one that started ‘I won’t talk long’ and yet went on for twenty-five minutes.

When they called him up with the long list of honors he received Sam took the diploma with one hand, shook with the other, and managed to keep his blush down when Ope and Dean cheered for him. He heard both of them though, and he searched in the direction of Dean’s voice. He saw him standing in the crowd, clapping above his head, and he waved once. Ope was bouncing beside him and then Loki hit an air horn and she and Dean both jumped before glaring.

He didn’t throw his hat, or hug anyone in the seats around him, but he did clap with the rest of his class when they were announced as a whole. They filed out, and he searched through the crowd for his people. A small, familiar blonde grabbed him first. “Sam. I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Congratulations!”

He dutifully received a hug from Ruby, and then raised an eye when she handed him a card. He still hadn’t opened the Christmas present from her. “I heard your birthday was right before Christmas. Happy birthday as well. Look I know your girlfriend hates me, but if you ever get a chance let’s chat ok? I have some things I want to tell you.”

He nodded once, spotted Ophelia cutting through the crowd like a blade with Dean and Loki dragging in her wake, and waved goodbye to Ruby to avoid the tension. He caught up with them halfway and received Ope’s hug before lifting her up and swinging her around. He was surprised that when he put her down Dean was holding her camera, a wicked grin on his face. Ophelia took it from him, grabbed some random passerby and handed it to them before shoving Sam in between the three of them. They posed, grinned, and then she took back the camera.

“Ok. Now you two stand together.” They did, Dean still smiling dutifully, and Ophelia frowned as she looked into the view screen. “Is that the best you can do Dean?”

Which was when Dean grabbed his waist, spun him and pulled him into a kiss. The world went away for a few seconds, and then Sam was left unsteady on his feet and Ophelia was grinning as she turned the camera off and hung it from her wrist. Sam looked around, caught a glimpse of Ruby in the crowd staring, and then turned back and shot Dean and Ophelia a half-hearted glare. Loki's smirk was so broad Sam was afraid his face would cramp. They laughed. Sam tried to hold out, he really did, but after a few moments he joined them. It was cold, snow everywhere, but the sun shone down on them, and Sam experienced one of the best moments of his entire life standing on a windy sidewalk in a crowd of strangers.





-----





Dean was walking behind him with his hands over his eyes, and Sam frowned as he was led into the kitchen. “What exactly are we-“

The hands lifted and he blinked against the light in the kitchen before he saw the giant cake filled with candles. Ophelia stood behind it with a huge grin and the camera in her hands again. “Happy birthday Sammy!!”

He stared at it for a moment, it was homemade, and then swallowed his apprehension and smiled broadly. “Thanks guys. This is great but-“

“Blow out your candles.” Dean’s voice in his ear, and Sam suddenly felt arousal replace fear, “Make a wish.”

He considered that for a moment. Closed his eyes and blew with only one thought in his head. Let them find Dean’s brother Sam safe. When he opened his eyes to her clapping he saw all the candles had extinguished. Ope picked them out carefully as Dean grabbed plates and silverware. He carved the cake and then held a slice out to Sam.

“Which one of you made this?”

“Ophelia. She said it was your favorite.” Dean was grinning broadly, but Ope’s eyes had narrowed. Sam cut a piece with his fork and lifted it slowly before taking a bite. When the chocolate flavor practically melted in his mouth he felt his gaze fly upwards and catch hers.

“I practiced. Ass.” The grin sliding across her lips was open and honest, and Sam relaxed to see it. She pulled her black hair back into a high ponytail and then took a seat and accepted a piece of cake from Dean before biting into it.

They ate in silence, Dean’s face ecstatic as he took his second piece and practically gobbled it. Loki almost ate his weight in cake. After a while Sam broke the silence as he watched them. “Are we doing anything special tonight?”

“For your birthday or for Christmas Eve?” Ope’s eyebrows slanted upwards and her lips twitched.

“Either.” He kept his gaze on her, studiously avoiding Dean and Loki. Sam watched as Ophelia looked to the men slyly and then back to Sam.

“Well we were thinking about an orgy, but instead we could watch the entirety of Monty Python’s Flying Circus. I hear someone likes it, and that someone else got it for them.”

Sam resisted the urge to cheer, to rush forward and grab her up, and instead shrugged calmly. “Yeah. I bet they have great taste and an incredible body.”

Dean choked on his second piece of cake and when he had it out of his airway he looked up. “Look at Sammy. Cocky and confident. Birthdays agree with you.”

“Well I am twenty-five now. I better live it up before I get old. You know what I mean right Dean?”

Dean’s glower was accompanied by Ope and Loki's laughter.



----



Dean looked at her over Sam’s head. The kid had fallen asleep several hours into the British comedy marathon, and that left only himself and Ophelia awake, both sipping beers and letting the DVD run. Loki was on the floor, shoulders resting heavily against her legs and head dropped onto her thigh. Dean didn't miss how she hadn't bothered moving him. He settled his shoulder a little more comfortably under the weight of Sam and then grinned at her.

“I’d say that went well.”

She nodded once and took a long pull. “Merry Christmas Dean. Take Sam to bed. I have prep work to do.”

“Prep work?” He let her take his empty bottle after she slid out from under Loki, so he’d have both hands to wrangle a half-asleep Sam to bed.

“Yeah. A few more translations, some crystal polishing. New Age bullshit. Don’t worry about it.” She grinned carelessly and headed off to the kitchen. He waited for her to come back through.

“Ope, listen, about the ritual-“

She shook her head once and met his eyes, her bright blue ones serious. “No cold feet now buddy. We’re close.” She gestured to Sam again and then slipped through the door to the basement stairs.

He shook Sam gently and when one hazel eye cracked open to peer at him he smiled as softly as he could. “Up you go Sammy. Bed time.”

Sam nodded, mumbled, and staggered his way half-blind towards the bedroom. Dean led him with soft pushes to either shoulder, and once Sam had voided his bladder and brushed his teeth Dean made sure he was fully tucked in before he slipped outside to the Impala.

If he was going to do this he was going to do it right, because Dean Winchester didn’t do things halfway. He pulled the two small gifts, wrapped in newspaper, out of the trunk and then took them inside and put both under the tree. Afterwards he slid out his cell and dialed his father. It rang several times and then went to the voicemail.

“Merry Christmas Sir.” He hadn’t heard from John since they parted ways. He could only assume his father had found the gun he wanted, and that he was tracking down Azazel with the new intel and closing in. Dean was only half-sure his dad would tell him if he actually had the son of a bitch in his sights. Either way, in six days Dean would have bigger fish to fry.

He was careful not to make a sound when he slipped back into Sam’s room and undressed. He joined the younger man in the bed and felt Sam’s still cool body wrap around him. He rubbed a distracted hand up Sam’s side and smiled softly. Six days was a long time.

He woke to a pot being hit with a metal spoon, and he jerked so hard and fast he fell out of the bed and slammed into the floor before he realized what was happening. Ophelia was in the doorway, a cigarette in the corner of her demented smile and a Santa hat perched on top of her newly colored hair. Beside him Sam woke with a sharp gasp and then turned to look at her with annoyance.

“For three years I have been begging you to be a human being on Christmas morning. Why? Why won’t you?” Sam’s voice was slightly whiny, wholly endearing, and Dean wanted to smile at it but he was currently plopped naked on the floor in the cold morning air. She didn’t seem interested in his body though, she was too busy laughing.

“Because it’s Christmas! These are Christmas bells Sammy!” She let the pot hang and avoided looking at him when he reached for his pants and pulled them on.

“I bought you some damn bells. I bought you a lot of damn bells. Where’d they go?”

She shrugged broadly. “Time to make breakfast!” There was no better word for the next part, she skipped away and Dean caught Sam’s still half-asleep eyes.

“Is she fucking crazy?” He thought of all the nights he’d spent in motels with his hand on the gun under his pillow. She was goddamn lucky he didn’t have one this morning.

“Yes.” Sam’s mouth couldn’t seem to decide between hardening and curling upwards. It was an interesting expression. “She’s a lunatic. Which puts us in good company.”

Dean couldn’t necessarily argue that point.





----



Sam watched Dean eat his third helping of bacon before reaching for another spoonful of hash browns. Ope was humming Christmas music as Loki poured an ocean of syrup over his pancakes.

This was what he'd always wanted and never had. A family on Christmas. Warmth and love. Ope laughing and kicking Loki's shin as he made obscene noises around a mouthful of food. Dean's eyes glittering as he pounded bacon and mumbled about a lack of table manners. It was so simple, and somehow it had just fallen into Sam's lap.

Ophelia popped up from the table and slapped her hands on the wood. “Let’s go open presents boys. I have a feeling this is the year I clean up.”

Sam had managed to find something for her and Loki. It was the one gift he'd wrapped for Dean that had him nervous. He wasn't sure how it would be taken, or if it was the right idea. Wasn't sure about anything suddenly, because here was his greatest wish and it could leave at any time. He stepped lightly into the living room and watched Ope push Loki into a seated position. Dean followed with a handful of bacon.

She pointed to the couch for Sam, the armchair for Dean, and then she doled out presents. Sam looked over the little pile and was surprised by the newspaper covered one. From the way her hand stuttered she was too. She put the gift from Ruby at the far edge, and then she reached behind the tree and brought out an orderly stack of gifts that she dropped in front of a shocked Dean. She winked at him once and then took what was left across the room and sat on the floor at Loki's feet.

“Sam first.” Dean’s voice was gravely as he studied the little pile in front of him, and Ope nodded seriously and pulled out her camera.

He reached for the newspaper one first and Ope clucked her tongue and shook her head. He let go of it and picked up one wrapped in starry paper. He broke the tape and slid open the paper to find a little box with a note inside. There was a date written on the paper, and he stared at it for a second before flipping it over. On the other side was a detailed design, filled with sigils he didn’t recognize surrounding a pentagram. He looked up at Ophelia in surprise. “It’s a ward against evil. The date is your appointment with me. I designed it, but if you want I can change it.” He saw the hesitation there, and choked down his surprise so he could offer her gratitude.

“It’s gorgeous Ope. I’d love to.” She nodded towards Dean and pointed at his little starry box.

“Open yours.”

Dean obeyed, found the same box with the same paper, and looked at Sam for a second before looking to her with a question in his eyes.

“They go here,” she gestured to the left side of her chest, “above your hearts. It’s a place of power.”

Dean nodded once, cleared his throat, and looked back to the artwork. “Thanks sweetheart.”

Sam opened the other two gifts from her. In classic Ophelia fashion the first gift was touching, the second practical, in this case a stick of Ram, and the third a joke. When he slid his hand into the bag and found what must have been fifteen bottles of lube he almost didn’t bother pulling them out. She grinned wickedly. “You should always be prepared.” Loki's eyebrows waggled and he pushed his face into Ope's hair and muffled his laughter.

Dean raised an eyebrow, saw what was in the bag when Sam pulled one out to confirm his suspicions, and laughed until he was red in the face. Sam opened Ruby’s gift next and raised his eyebrow at the little winged figurine. He never would have pictured her as the religious type. Despite herself Ophelia moved forwards to peer at it. “Which angel is that Sam?” He saw the way Loki looked it over, face tightening briefly, and then it was gone and the hacker was leaning back again with one hand casually resting on Ope's shoulder.

He shrugged, put the figurine to the side, and picked up the newspaper one. “When did you start wrapping in newspaper Ope?” She shook her head and his eyes flew to Dean.

The hunter was looking everywhere but at Sam, and he paused before he slid his fingers through the clumsy tape job and ripped it open. As he fumbled with the box Dean’s voice rumbled across the room, and he glanced up to see the green eyes downcast and one hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “’S nothing special.”

Sam stared at the little horned amulet for a long time. He looked up at Dean with one eyebrow raised and watched the mossy green gaze flicker away from him. “Bobby said it's a protection amulet. That it's strong mojo. I thought…well I thought maybe you'd like to wear it. Stupid I know.”

“Thanks.” He’s surprised at how choked his voice sounds, and Dean’s eyes fly back to him even as he’s clearing his throat. Dean doesn’t know, can’t know, that he’s the first person outside of the Burton family to put any thought into getting him a present. Hell other than Ruby he’s the first one outside of that small circle to get him anything. He manages to get out one more sentence before his throat fills up again with unshed tears. “I'll wear it always.” It’s a stupid thing to say, and Sam knows it but Dean’s smile is broad and overwhelming. He reaches up and slips the leather thong over his head, the little brass figurine bouncing against his collarbone.

Sam looked over to catch the sheen in Ope’s eyes and the grin on Loki's face, and then she’s gesturing wildly at Dean. “Open yours, open them!”

She’s followed her pattern with Dean. Sam knows it even before Dean opens the second gift. His practical present is a pair of boots. Dean looks at them for a long moment before he speaks. “Two questions, are you a psychic, and how did you know my shoe size?”

“Nope. I’ve seen you staring at your shoes and frowning asshole, and you leave them in the living room a lot. It wasn’t hard to peek at the size. Next present!”

He opens the joke gift, and Sam watches as his eyes widen and his lips press into a tight line. When he looks up the crinkles at the corner of his eyes are evident despite how stern he’s trying to look. “What is this supposed to be?” He lifts the book out of the paper and glares at it.

“It’s a survival guide for the Zombie Apocalypse. You know, helpful tips and such for when the dead rise.” The look on her face is priceless, and Sam can’t help but notice she’s taken several shots of Dean’s expression.

He nods once to himself, then looks up and catches her eyes. “Zombies are real.” He laughs softly when her smile slips off her face, and Loki bursts into guffaws.

Sam feels a little tightening in his chest when Dean picks up the last gift. He’s honestly worried that the other man won’t like it. Sam spent hours consulting with Ope before he went looking for it, and now he’s already questioning the wisdom of buying Dean such a gift. He almost tries to stop him from opening it, but he holds back and clenches his hands in between his knees.

Dean stares at it for a long time, lips moving silently as he reads the words engraved along the blade. When he looks up his eyes are strange, shadowed and soft all at the same time, and his voice comes out flat and toneless. “Where did you find this?”

Sam isn’t sure if his hands are shaking or not, so he tries to make his voice sound firm in case they are. “I had it made. The blade is silver and I had a priest bless it. Ope did the translation.” He has to look away, can’t meet Dean’s strange expression anymore, and then fingers have his chin and hot lips are over his. The kiss lasts a long time, and when Dean whispers his thank you in Sam’s mouth Sam shudders for good reasons.

When Dean crosses back to the couch he pulls the knife all the way out and Sam sees the flash of the sentence along the length of the wickedly sharp blade. Caveo hoc fortis viri. Ophelia had pointed to the last word seriously as she explained the translation to Sam. Not just man, but hero, she’d insisted. Apparently Dean knows the difference.

There’s silence for a long time before Dean looks up from the blade and nods to Ophelia. “Get on it sweetheart.”

She opens toe socks from Sam first and makes it a point to put the blue pair with the stars on first and grin broadly at them. She exclaims loudly over the old copy of Bulfinch’s Greek Mythology, and then she’s opening Dean’s newspaper wrapped gift. Her fingers stutter once on the lid of the box and then when she looks up her eyes catch his with a question. Sam watches the silent interaction, and then leans forward to look into the box.

There’s a ring inside, silver setting with a glass eye in the center. Blue, the same shade as hers, and her fingers lift it from the box so that the light catches the glass and shines through it. When she looks up again her eyes are big and wet. “Thanks Dean. I love it.” She looks to Sam and grins, a real one that he wants so badly to keep on her face. “It’s a ward against the evil eye.”

Sam nods once, and then watches as she gets up carefully, sliding it on to the middle finger of her right hand before she crosses over and hugs Dean once, tightly and briefly. When she hugs Sam it lasts a little longer, and then she’s rubbing her eyes and pointing at Loki.

“Open them man so we can start drinking.”

Loki raises one eyebrow and then rips open his first present. The one from Sam. He pauses for a second and then looks up in surprise. "I don't understand."

Sam shrugs once and then tries to look casual. "Ope and I figured you might need one. Since your visits are so unscheduled." Loki turns the key over in his fingers several times before tucking it into a pocket. He doesn't say anything, just opens the second box and then looks up to Ophelia. He makes a noise, high and excited, and Sam watches Dean lean over to see better. There are ten bags of Ghiradelli's chocolate nestled in tissue paper.

"This is-damn I love you two. Easy access and chocolate." He starts stuffing his face immediately, and Sam doesn't even try to suppress his laughter.



-----




Dean joins them in drinking as they call her uncle and shout cheer at him. They begin in the basement with Sam playing funny Youtube videos and then take the bottle back upstairs and drink in front of the fireplace. Dean can’t help but notice how Sam sits a good distance away from it, and he makes a mental note to ask later. Around three in the morning Loki helps Ophelia to bed as she gestures wildly and proclaims her sobriety. Dean reaches for Sam. The young man is drunk, and apparently horny as his big hands grasp Dean everywhere on the way to the bedroom. He’s talking nonstop the whole way.

“Great. Great day. You’re great. She’s great. He's great. ‘S all great.” Dean drops Sam on the bed gently and then kicks off his new boots. She has good taste in shoes, and he’s almost ashamed at how quickly he knows he’ll wear them out. Sam’s grabbing at his hips and he lets himself be maneuvered to the bed. “Fuck me. Please Dean. Want to feel you.”

Dean lets Sam fumble with his shirt before helping him undress, and then he steps back long enough to take his own clothes off. Sam’s hands are clumsy as he grasps at Dean and pulls him so close Dean is almost smothered under Sam’s bulk. “Dean. Dean. Make me warm.”

He wants to say no, because Sam is beyond drunk, but a few minutes of earnest drunken manhandling and Dean’s own fuzzy logic gives in to lust. It goes slower than it has before, more gentle and sweet, and Dean takes his time opening Sam up while tasting him. Sam isn’t quiet, and he begs so much Dean thinks he’ll finish before they’ve really started. When he comes into Sam the world gets a little brighter, and isn’t that thought fucking estrogen laden, and then he’s moving slowly as Sam repeats his name on a loop of moans and sighs.

Dean barely has the energy to clean them both up when it’s done, and he throws the soiled shirt at the laundry basket before sleep claims him.

----

She doesn't want to wake them up. It's too important they spend more time together. Still, this has to be done. It's the last time. The last time. There's a heavy connotation there that she doesn't really want to consider. She slips out of the bed and makes her way across the hall. Dean wakes when the door opens, but Sam doesn't. She can see the gleam of his eyes in the light from behind her. He gets up without a word and follows her out of the house and across the moonlit snow to the workshop.

There's a warm body waiting back in the house for her that won't be there after tomorrow morning. If she had her preference Ope would be there, curled around Gabe's soft and insistent heat and soaking in the luxurious feeling of being well-fucked and relaxed. But this needs to be done, because she has no way to promise that there will be much of an after. The wording of the spell is too loose for her to be sure, and the price of this kind of knowledge could be…

It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter because this is what she's decided to do. Instead she directs Dean to lie down and then lights the candle and anoints her fingers. She remembers all too well when Bobby called her. To do this the right way, the way anyone else would have chosen, would have taken months. Dean out of the action for so long it would probably have driven him crazy. With her though, Bobby had mentioned hesitantly, the damn thing could be wiped out quickly. She's been lying to all of them, dragging this out, and now it has to be finished. Her fingers draw the well-practiced lines around the faded black circle and she could laugh about it, but Dean would ask a lot of fucking questions. Or maybe not. He looks wiped.

"Are you sure you should be doing this before tomorrow?" Not fucking wiped enough.

She schools her features into flippant disdain. "Shut the fuck up. You're as eager to go back to bed as I am." Wink, dirty grin, and Dean is buying it. Thank the Goddess. She's been careful the last few times to increase the amount of oil, the strength of the incense, and everything has gone so well. Dean can't pick up on the charred scent, he relaxes back into the sensations, and when the pain crosses his face briefly towards the end she makes sure that she's releasing extra energy. Soothing and soft. Right hand working the last of the curse out of him.

Afterwards she digs with her left hand to find the joint and lights with it too. Dean has yet to notice. She'll need it to work again in a little less than twelve hours. Until then she can get by. They don't have the post removal conversation, and she just grins at him when he slips into Sam's room. Returning to Gabriel now is kind of pointless. There will be no shirt removal tonight, but for some reason her feet lead her into the guest room where Gabe immediately opens his arms and pulls her into the bed. When his hand slides along her hip and up the skin of her belly she shakes her head and pushes on his shoulder.

"Just sleep. Wanna sleep ass." She half expects him to push her away. She'd deserve it, and they're not the cuddle type of relationship. In typical unpredictable Gabe fashion though he pulls her tighter into him and nuzzles against the back of her neck.

"Hard time with Dean-o?" There's something in his voice she can't quite pick out. Not jealousy, but something hard and wild. It's part of what makes him so dynamic and makes her want so badly to dig into him. This has gotten too fucking deep.

"Just tired. Want to sleep." Apparently her luck earlier with Dean was the last she had left.

"Opey, you're pretty closed off for a little spoon." His lips brush the back of her neck and for a moment there's that burning heat she gets from him. The one that makes her knees weak and her pants drop.

"Spoons don't fucking talk Gabe." For half a second she's sure that'll be enough to lose her bed privileges. Alan used to bitch constantly about her emotional unavailability. Right up until he started fucking Hanna since she was never around anymore.

Fingers thread into hers, and she's pulled tighter into the hacker's body. Until she feels enveloped and protected. Which is weird for her, but nice. Very nice.

"Don't do anything stupid Ope. I'm serious."

It's not a promise she can make

Comments

[sammichgirl]

I couldn't have seen that coming if I tried - Ope is a witch! A good witch...and Loki/Gabe. Well, damn. I think he IS an angel, and how hot was it him asking her if he wanted Gabriel to touch her!

And she prays for Sam. She doesn't seem like someone big into prayer, so that was really heartwrenching. I wonder if Gabe will keep that in mind.

Ahhh, Sam cut himself. I didn't expect that either, but it makes sense, with the detoxing. I bet someday Sam makes ribs for Dean that rival that Tennessee place.

Ruby - you drop her in little tiny bits, and that doesn't sit well with me, 'cause there is a reason she keeps showing up. Bitch.

Sam's birthday wish! Awwwwwwwww. It's so sweet of him to think of what Dean wants, and he doesn't know. I'm dying for them to know already. Well, sort of. I imagine it will be painful. Angsty.

The whole Christmas scene was fantastic. I think it was exactly what all of them wanted and needed, and noone realized how very much so.

Gabe knows Ope is gonna do something. I hope he can help in the aftermath. She knows a heckuva lot more than we see here, and I hope it doesn't kill her in the process.

[dimeliora.livejournal.com]

I kinda love Christmas scenes now. There's a lot of pressure to get it right, but it's really satisfying when you do.

Yeah, prayer is not her general thing, but there have to be exceptions. I'm really glad the Gabe/OFC pairing is going ok, because I was really worried about that!

[nickitynackity.livejournal.com]

Yea, my plan to sit and read in one go is so not happening the way I planned. Still, I'm getting a chapter or two and then off to do something else and during that time I'm getting to re-hash what has happened and linger on the storyline awhile longer, so that's a plus.

But this chapter! So much to think about. First, I really thought Loki/Gabe was a throwaway character up till now. He wasn't doing much for me. But, oh, this chapter! I loved Ope and he, and now I'm hoping he can fix whatever is wrong with Ope. Is it too much to ask that this story have multiple happy endings?

And Sam and Dean are lovely together - slowly getting to know each other and Sam seems stronger every day. And then the overall storyline, still growing, still secrets left to reveal. Lovely!

[dimeliora.livejournal.com]

Life is important too. :D


Nothing is too much to hope for. I'm wondering if I need to be honest and put the OFC/Gabriel warning in the pairings section, but I kind of wanted this to be a surprise.

I'm so glad you're liking it though!

[roxymissrose.livejournal.com]

I'm really getting to like Gabe here and he's being very interesting, very intriguing!

I loved the graduation scene...poor Show Sam, that he never got this! I'm so pleased the way Sam and Dean are growing together--and also nervous about it. Loved, also, the Christmas scene! That was lovely! :)

[dimeliora.livejournal.com]

I'm excited that you like Gabe, and that you liked the Christmas scene. I always pull my hair out at gift scenes, because I either want to get ridiculously personal, or just give everybody a gift card. I'm never sure which action is more in character...