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Description
Beloved
a SPN fic

{Warning: Language, M/M (not incestual), and violence to follow. Everything will be explained, but I should be clear. no wincest.}

Prologue

December 20th, 2013

It was the scream that brought their bodies to a halt. It was the scream that acted like a dagger, stabbing into their chests and robbing them of their oxygen. It was the scream that seized their hearts and squeezed like a fist, giving them such a pain and such a fear that they almost couldn’t move, almost couldn’t run, almost couldn't roar with outrage.

Almost.

“NO!” Dean surged forward, his voice a ferocious roar, with Sam barely overtaking him as their feet pounded the asphalt ground. The Winchesters ran as hard as they possibly could through the cold night, their faces torn between grim masks of determination and wretched expressions caught between outrage and despair; with air puffing quickly from their lungs in steam and their weapons drawn, they came up to storehouse like speeding trains and barreled through the door with enough force to nearly knock it off its rusty hinges.

There was another scream that tore at their hearts, searing through the air like a gunshot, and this time the cry of pain was put to words. “DADDDDDDY!”

“HENRY!” Sam screamed, his cry loud and anguished enough to shred his throat to pieces. They had been so caught up in getting inside that they’d forgot who they’d been attacking, that is, the swarm of demons that came upon them like a tidal wave.

But they were no match for the raging Winchester brothers. Sam sliced and hacked, ripping open flesh with a graceful finesse that would have been almost beautiful had it not been so violent and so full of rage. While he ripped open the demons that swarmed him, his brother fired his demon-killing pistol at the rest, hitting each dead in between their soulless black eyes and beating the living shit out of any that got too close. And soon they were surrounded by more dead than living, and blood pooled beneath their boots-- and still they did not stop.

“Where is he?!” Sam thundered, grabbing the last living demon and pulling him to his face, teeth gritted and nostrils flared. His expression was almost insane, with mossy green eyes were wide with rage, blazing with fire that burned hotter than Hell itself. He carved a line of red along the demon’s neck, not deep enough to kill but enough to hurt, enough to make it scream and writhe in the Winchester’s iron grip. Its features twisted in agony and Sam didn’t even flinch as it let out a gutwrenching scream-- he only dug in deeper, sending the hot red liquid dripping down Sam’s hand and down the demon’s shirt. It burned a bright orange where the demon blade sliced its cursed skin. “Where is he?!”

Dean whirled. “We don’t have time for this!” He leveled his gun at the screeching demon’s temple, enough anger pouring from him to rival his brother’s. “Tell me where he is, you fucking son of a bitch! TELL ME NOW!”

The demon pointed weakly to the right, down the hallway that was by now painted with sprays of scarlet blood, to large door at the end of the corridor.

And the second he did, Sam shoved the knife hilt beneath the nape of its neck, silencing him for good and golden light blazed in its eyes. The body had hardly hit the floor before they were halfway down the hallway, hearts pounding and their weapons gripped tightly in the hands, and they raced through the door only to catch their breath in horror at the scene that revealed itself.

“Henry!”

“Drop him!” Dean demanded, his voice a dangerous cry that told all too well what would happen if they did not.

The demon sneered at him, only tightening his hold the on the quivering and bleeding little boy kneeling on the ground in front of it. The boy’s features were marred with tears and blood and were twisted in pain, but the second he saw Sam and Dean his green eyes grew wide with a glistening hope. He reached out helplessly with his bound hands, his expression so pleading and fearful it broke their hearts within their chests.

“Daddy! P-P-Papa!” he cried, his tiny and trembling voice a beacon to the two men standing, weapons drawn, in the doorway. They gaped soundlessly at him, at a sudden loss for words at the gutwrenching sight.

It's gonna be okay, Henry. Dean wanted to say. It's gonna be okay, we're gonna save you, and then we're gonna tear this bastard a fucking new one.

“Well, well. If it isn’t the Daddies Dearest. Welcome to the party, Sam and Dean.” The demon’s mouth curled into a wicked smile, its lips twisting grotesquely in malice. His breath didn't puff out like the Winchesters' did, despite the sufffocating cold. “Where’s Uncle Cassie? Taking the night off? Shame he couldn’t come too...”

But the Winchester brothers didn’t falter for a minute or rise to the bait. The outrage in their hearts only flamed brighter and hotter in their veins at the sight of their little boy on the ground, now whimpering in pain.

“Let him go,” Sam commanded, his voice dangerously low and his expression deadly. If one looked close flames could nearly been seen in his eyes, scorchingly hot as the drive to kill consumed his ferocious gaze.

Dean raised his pistol and pointed it straight at the demon’s forehead. He cocked it slowly, reloading it to send the bullet straight in between the hellish bastard’s pitch black eyes. This son of a bitch is so fucking past dead. I’m gonna make him beg for death. “Or we’ll make you wish you never left that fiery shithole.”

“Oh, I’m terrified,” the demon purred, baring its teeth. The boy at its feet whimpered as it dug its claws deeper into the soft flesh of his bloody shoulder, and both Winchesters twitched as the urge to throw themselves at it nearly overpowered them. Their gazes simultaneous flickered from the demon to the boy at its feet, for a moment cracking their masks of fury. But then they turned back to the demon, their urge to rip him apart made anew. The little boy let out a broken sob, choking out a whispered lament for his daddy.

Sam’s knuckles turned white as his gripped his knife even tighter in his hand. “You should be,” he growled, deeply. He lifted his weapon slowly, his whole body tensing for what was about to happen next. “You made the biggest mistake you possibly could have made.”

“Oh? And what’s that, Sammy?”

Dean grinded his teeth together, his lips stretching in a humorless smile. He paused just a moment to look at the boy on the ground, to look at the little boy that he had learned to love and call his own. Then he met eyes with the demon and the bright green orbs were bright with a stormy determination. His little boy.

“You messed with our family.”

And Dean pulled the trigger.

Description
Beloved
a SPN fic

{Warning: Language, M/M (not incestual), and violence to follow. Everything will be explained, but I should be clear. no wincest.}

Prologue

December 20th, 2013

It was the scream that brought their bodies to a halt. It was the scream that acted like a dagger, stabbing into their chests and robbing them of their oxygen. It was the scream that seized their hearts and squeezed like a fist, giving them such a pain and such a fear that they almost couldn’t move, almost couldn’t run, almost couldn't roar with outrage.

Almost.

“NO!” Dean surged forward, his voice a ferocious roar, with Sam barely overtaking him as their feet pounded the asphalt ground. The Winchesters ran as hard as they possibly could through the cold night, their faces torn between grim masks of determination and wretched expressions caught between outrage and despair; with air puffing quickly from their lungs in steam and their weapons drawn, they came up to storehouse like speeding trains and barreled through the door with enough force to nearly knock it off its rusty hinges.

There was another scream that tore at their hearts, searing through the air like a gunshot, and this time the cry of pain was put to words. “DADDDDDDY!”

“HENRY!” Sam screamed, his cry loud and anguished enough to shred his throat to pieces. They had been so caught up in getting inside that they’d forgot who they’d been attacking, that is, the swarm of demons that came upon them like a tidal wave.

But they were no match for the raging Winchester brothers. Sam sliced and hacked, ripping open flesh with a graceful finesse that would have been almost beautiful had it not been so violent and so full of rage. While he ripped open the demons that swarmed him, his brother fired his demon-killing pistol at the rest, hitting each dead in between their soulless black eyes and beating the living shit out of any that got too close. And soon they were surrounded by more dead than living, and blood pooled beneath their boots-- and still they did not stop.

“Where is he?!” Sam thundered, grabbing the last living demon and pulling him to his face, teeth gritted and nostrils flared. His expression was almost insane, with mossy green eyes were wide with rage, blazing with fire that burned hotter than Hell itself. He carved a line of red along the demon’s neck, not deep enough to kill but enough to hurt, enough to make it scream and writhe in the Winchester’s iron grip. Its features twisted in agony and Sam didn’t even flinch as it let out a gutwrenching scream-- he only dug in deeper, sending the hot red liquid dripping down Sam’s hand and down the demon’s shirt. It burned a bright orange where the demon blade sliced its cursed skin. “Where is he?!”

Dean whirled. “We don’t have time for this!” He leveled his gun at the screeching demon’s temple, enough anger pouring from him to rival his brother’s. “Tell me where he is, you fucking son of a bitch! TELL ME NOW!”

The demon pointed weakly to the right, down the hallway that was by now painted with sprays of scarlet blood, to large door at the end of the corridor.

And the second he did, Sam shoved the knife hilt beneath the nape of its neck, silencing him for good and golden light blazed in its eyes. The body had hardly hit the floor before they were halfway down the hallway, hearts pounding and their weapons gripped tightly in the hands, and they raced through the door only to catch their breath in horror at the scene that revealed itself.

“Henry!”

“Drop him!” Dean demanded, his voice a dangerous cry that told all too well what would happen if they did not.

The demon sneered at him, only tightening his hold the on the quivering and bleeding little boy kneeling on the ground in front of it. The boy’s features were marred with tears and blood and were twisted in pain, but the second he saw Sam and Dean his green eyes grew wide with a glistening hope. He reached out helplessly with his bound hands, his expression so pleading and fearful it broke their hearts within their chests.

“Daddy! P-P-Papa!” he cried, his tiny and trembling voice a beacon to the two men standing, weapons drawn, in the doorway. They gaped soundlessly at him, at a sudden loss for words at the gutwrenching sight.

It's gonna be okay, Henry. Dean wanted to say. It's gonna be okay, we're gonna save you, and then we're gonna tear this bastard a fucking new one.

“Well, well. If it isn’t the Daddies Dearest. Welcome to the party, Sam and Dean.” The demon’s mouth curled into a wicked smile, its lips twisting grotesquely in malice. His breath didn't puff out like the Winchesters' did, despite the sufffocating cold. “Where’s Uncle Cassie? Taking the night off? Shame he couldn’t come too...”

But the Winchester brothers didn’t falter for a minute or rise to the bait. The outrage in their hearts only flamed brighter and hotter in their veins at the sight of their little boy on the ground, now whimpering in pain.

“Let him go,” Sam commanded, his voice dangerously low and his expression deadly. If one looked close flames could nearly been seen in his eyes, scorchingly hot as the drive to kill consumed his ferocious gaze.

Dean raised his pistol and pointed it straight at the demon’s forehead. He cocked it slowly, reloading it to send the bullet straight in between the hellish bastard’s pitch black eyes. This son of a bitch is so fucking past dead. I’m gonna make him beg for death. “Or we’ll make you wish you never left that fiery shithole.”

“Oh, I’m terrified,” the demon purred, baring its teeth. The boy at its feet whimpered as it dug its claws deeper into the soft flesh of his bloody shoulder, and both Winchesters twitched as the urge to throw themselves at it nearly overpowered them. Their gazes simultaneous flickered from the demon to the boy at its feet, for a moment cracking their masks of fury. But then they turned back to the demon, their urge to rip him apart made anew. The little boy let out a broken sob, choking out a whispered lament for his daddy.

Sam’s knuckles turned white as his gripped his knife even tighter in his hand. “You should be,” he growled, deeply. He lifted his weapon slowly, his whole body tensing for what was about to happen next. “You made the biggest mistake you possibly could have made.”

“Oh? And what’s that, Sammy?”

Dean grinded his teeth together, his lips stretching in a humorless smile. He paused just a moment to look at the boy on the ground, to look at the little boy that he had learned to love and call his own. Then he met eyes with the demon and the bright green orbs were bright with a stormy determination. His little boy.

“You messed with our family.”

And Dean pulled the trigger.