Chapter Text
“So get this. It’s a Djinn, as far as I can tell.”
“Fuck, Sammy, I hate those things,” Dean groaned, throwing his head back and slamming his laptop shut.
“Yeah, I know you do,” Sam said, his voice annoyingly full of sympathy, his eyes still glued to Dad’s journal on his lap.
Ever since the whole being a demon thing, they wanted a sense of control, something that both the brothers so desperately needed. Hence the monster hunt. And now, apparently, Genie hunt.
“Okay, so, we need an abandoned building that’s somewhere near where the girls were abducted,” Dean sighed, walking over to the map thumb-tacked to the wall that had little red dots marked over where each victim lived. “Don’t you find it a little strange that the chicks were taken from their homes? Djinns don’t usually do that. They just… take them when they’re near.” He said, gazing intently at the map in front of him.
“It’s not that weird. Remember that Ghoul that only ate women that looked like his wife? What if this creature’s just a little sicker than normal? I mean, the vics all look alike, and it wouldn’t be the first time we’ve seen monsters acting crazy,” Sam says, still not taking his eyes away from that freaking book.
Dean snorts and silently agrees, walking back to the crappy table in the motel room to sit next to his brother.
“So, Mr. Bibliophile-“
“Greek, nice one.” Sam smiled, shaking his head.
“Thanks, –where are we looking for the damned thing?” Dean grumbled.
Sam huffed and stood up, walking over to the map and doing some freaky shit with a ruler and red pen- and what the fuck is that?
“A protractor, Sammy, really?”
“Yes, Dean. It’s called math.”
“Fucking nerd,” Dean grumbled, a wave of affection slamming into his chest.
He missed this. He missed his brother, the bunker, the crappy motels and the hunt. After being a demon and not giving two shakes of a rat’s ass what happened to anything he wasn’t fucking or killing, he was glad that nothing’s changed with him and Sammy. Aside from the occasional blood thirst and need to tear-bite-stab that would hit him like a freight train on speed, he was feeling pretty good. Really good. Suspiciously so, but he was too fed up with all the bullshit that’s already gone down to really delve into it.
He thanked that fuck-up of a God for the calm he felt now.
“So, where we gankin’ the son of a bitch?”
Sammy stepped away from the wall and opened up his laptop. He typed for a few minutes while Dean guzzled down the last of his beer. He reached over his brother’s arms to grab at Sammy’s beer and took a sip, earning a glare in return.
“Abandoned apartment building. Closed ‘cuz of something to do with the stability. It’s our best bet right now. We’re leaving at nightfall, so lay off the booze. We don’t need you falling over.”
“That was lame. C’mon Sammy, at least try to make me laugh,” Dean frowned, elbowing the giant in the shoulder, gulping down the last of the beer, and grinned.
“Shut up, you idiot. Let’s get out of here and kill this fucking thing.”
“Amen, brother,” Dean agreed, grabbing his coat and silver knives that were laying on his bed next to the guns he was cleaning earlier, which reminds him, he should probably put up that ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign. What a fucking mess that would be if a maid found all this shit.
He was packing all the necessary ingredients to make one express ticket to purgatory for the SOB when a thought crossed him mind. “Hey, where are we going to get lamb’s blood at this hour of the night?”
..........
"Anyone feel like that was too easy?” Dean asked, staring at the mutilated corpse of the freaking ancient lady djinn. Sam looked at him like he was an idiot and scuffed.
“You know, we can have good days every once and a while.” Sam said, wiping the blood off his knife on the old lady’s disgustingly floral blouse. God, could she be more old?
“Yeah, but dude, I didn’t even break a swea-“
“You bastard!” Holy fuck, that’s a chick on top of him (and not in the sexy way) and a god damned screwdriver sticking out of his fucking forearm.
“Son of a bitch! Sam, get the broad the hell off me!”
Sam didn’t need to be told twice, and practically ripped the girl away from him. He managed to restrain her in his arms, leaving her incapable of stabbing anyone else for the time being.
“Stop moving,” Sam bit out, holding her tighter.
“Yeah, bitch, stop squirming while I get this screwdriver out of me, and stay still while I stick it in your fucking eye!” Dean shouted, gently pulling the rusted thing out of his muscle.
Hello tetanus, long time no see.
“You killed my mom, and you’re calling me the bitch?” She screamed her eyes glowing a fiery blue, welling up with angry tears, and her black tribal tattoos dancing all over her skin.
“She killed a bunch of innocent girls, and you FUCKING STABBED ME! Now shut your pie hole before I shut the damn thing for you.” He looked down to his wrecked jeans and shrugged slightly before wiping the bloody screwdriver on them, cleaning his new favorite weapon. He held it back up, preparing to stab the monster in the face.
“Dean-“
“Not now, Sam, I’m about to carve a bitch up-“
“DEAN!”
“What!?”
Then he heard the crying. The djinn girl hid her face behind her curly black hair and leaned against Sam, her body wracking with sobs.
“Shit, don’t fucking cry,” Dean breathed, dropping the tool to his side. “Hey, c’mon now. That’s just pathetic. Suck it up princess. Die with some pride” He said with a weak sneer. She looked so young and innocent, as only the worst monsters do.
“She didn’t kill anyone, you bastard! She was good, she was innocent,” she sobbed some more, the tears big and wet, splattering all over herself. She looked weak and incapable for hurting a damn fly. Fucking monsters, they’re getting harder and harder to kill these days.
Sam’s face softened and his body relaxed. What. The. Hell.
“Did you kill them?” Dean asked, his voice like ice and steel, hard and mean. His grip tightened on the handle on the shiv. He didn’t trust her.
Djinn made you see and feel things that weren’t real. They made you love people that didn’t exist, made you miss those who didn’t anymore. The made you wish you could stay forever, just so you could be normal for once in your pathetic fucking life. They made Mom alive. Jess alive and Sammy happy.
They made Dean happy.
But people were dying, and him being everyone’s fucking savior had to give up what he needed so they could live another day.
They were slimy disgusting creatures, and Dean hated them.
His arm was burning and his veins felt like they were on fire, but he reveled in it, fed off of it. Where was that calm now God?
The djinn looked at him then, with bleary, pale blue eyes. She shook her head and sniffled something pitiful.
Disgusting.
“If you guys didn’t kill them, then who did, huh? Can you tell us, please?” Sam asked, loosening his firm grip the slightest bit, his eyes taking on that puppy-dog quality that pissed Dean the fuck off but only seemed to get the girl to melt.
The weakling, sympathizing with the enemy. Dean still wanted to stab something, and his mammoth of a younger brother was looking like a goddamned good target right about now.
He should be worried about how much that didn’t worry him.
“Jackson, he must have. He always hated mom for making us drink baggies. Said she was denying him his true nature or something…” She sniffled, wiping her cheeks on her
shoulder.
“Baggies?” Sam asked, turning the djinn around completely so she had her back to Dean and was facing him. His chest felt tight, his eyes burned, brain hurt imagining how pretty she’d look with a knife sticking out of her. His ears rung, everything sounded miles away and through a tunnel. He needed to simmer down, take a deep breath, and fight the mark.
“Sorry, bagged blood. Mom was what you could call a humanitarian, didn’t believe in killing for food. She was good like that.” The chick chuckled a sad chuckle at that, leaning her forehead against Sammy’s broad chest. She looked tiny to Dean next to that house-trained moose. “They made her sick, though. Truthfully, if you hadn’t killed her tonight, she probably wouldn’t’ve made it through the week. She hurt a lot.” And then the waterworks started flowing again.
“Fuck, how do you still even have fluids left?” Dean groaned, tossing his head back and closing his eyes for a moment, pinching his nose and finally taking that deep breath. The air felt like ice-water in his lungs. But it cooled him off some. He no longer felt the need to spill her blood and fucking swim in it.
“Dean, don’t be a prick,” Sam glared, shooting him daggers as he wrapped his arms around the girl. Sam had that look in his eye, one he reserved for one of the few lucky ladies he would sleep with (the ones who would normally end up dead sooner or later, either by their hands or the hands of some supernatural beings). She looked barely legal, so that was bad, but also there was the fact that she was a fucking djinn that needed to die, and sex with Sam Winchester was not the way Dean wanted her to go down (pun intended). He wanted to do it himself.
“Are you serious right now, man? A couple crying spells and you’re wrapped around her little finger? What’s up with you and trying to screw monsters? Is it a kinky thing? You like the claws and the fangs?” Dean asked, his eyebrows raised and angry.
“Shut the fuck up, Dean. She’s terrified and alone, because, just in case you haven’t noticed, we just killed her mother right in front of her.”
Dean shook off his brother’s words, steadying his breathing, watching the girl’s shoulders shake and Sam rub her arm soothingly, like she was a fucking scared fawn or some shit.
“Fuck,” Dean swore. Slipping the screwdriver in his back pocket away from his shaking hands, he reached in his coat pocket for his handcuffs. Once he trusted himself around her, he stepped closer and Sam dropped his arms, catching his drift.
He was as quick as lightning as he ripped her arms behind her back and slapped the cuffs on her. She struggled for a second, but the reassuring look Sammy sent her way calmed her down. The fact that this chick trusted his brother so easily pissed him off, and he tightened the cuffs a little more than necessary. She tensed but didn’t try to run away.
“You ever kill anyone, girl?” Dean asked, breathing down her neck, through her black hair that tickled his nose. That also pissed him off, her fucking hair.
“N-no, I've never killed a human.”
The answer seemed to be good enough for Dean because he backed off and led her down through the crumbling apartments to the garage where his baby was parked. He tossed the keys to Sam and slid in the back next to the djinn, because damn him if she thought he was going to let her out of his sight for a fucking second. If he didn’t have complete control right now he might do something he would really regret later.
“Tell us where to find Jackson and I won’t slit your throat.”