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Nothing Better To Do	By : unrequited666 Category: Supernatural > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2945 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
Warnings: slash, dark, violence, thoughts of suicide, self-harm
� Don�t like? Don�t read! No flamers!

SNSNSNSNSNSNS

Chapter
Eight
�
�Your home is beautiful,� Sam declared,
inhaling and absorbing the textures and colours of the house, occasionally
picking up a vase or ornament, thoughtfully running his fingers across the
smooth surfaces or the rough wood walls, or the satin cloth of the curtains.

Don let out the breath he didn�t know he�d
been holding. He�d spent the last couple of days sprucing up his home the
moment he had decided that Sam could be trusted to have his freedom back, and
the last couple of minutes keeping his eyes trained on Sam, ready to cater to
any need he had� or if his decision had proved foolhardy, to shoot the boy with
the tranquiliser gun tucked in the back of his waistband. Don hoped against hope
that it would not come to that � shooting Sam would have been counterproductive
and would completely destroy the trust that had built up between them � but
luckily it seemed his fear had so far been baseless.

Dean�s happy barking drew Don from his thoughts,
and he watched as the energetic fur ball randomly ran in one direction and then
the other before it began spinning around in a circle, trying to catch its tail.
Feeling strangely magnanimous, Don decided to allow the dog its fun. After all,
it had been cooped up for so long that it probably just wanted to stretch its
legs. And with any luck, it would make itself so dizzy that it would fall
asleep soon enough, leaving its master free to enjoy� certain activities with
Don. He grinned in anticipation.

�You�ve got that idiotic grin on your face again,�
Sam called.

�And if I don�t wipe that grin off my face,
we�re never doing �it� again,� Don quoted
back solemnly, stepping into Sam�s personal space.

It was Sam�s turn to don the idiotic grin as
he flung his arms around Don�s neck, kissing the older man full on the mouth.
Don responded by snaking his hand down the boy�s pants, palming his cock and
teasing his balls.

It all had been going so well. So Don was surprised when Sam suddenly broke the kiss and disentangled
himself from Don, cocking his head to the side as if listening intently to a
sound only he could hear.

�Sam?�

�I have to go now.�

Don�s stomach dropped. �You can�t go,� he said
tightly, tensing up for a fight if need be.

�Yes, I can.�

Without giving it a thought, Don lifted his hand,
ready to hit the boy, when Sam suddenly straightened himself up to his full
height and grabbed onto the front of Don�s shirt, shoving him backwards into
the opposite wall. The opposite wall which was seven metres
away.

Don�s eyes widened in fear even as he
struggled against the invisible force that kept him pinned to that wall. �Jesus
Christ.�

�Not last time I looked,� Sam said coldly, holding
out his hand even as he began to close the distance between them.

Suddenly, Don felt a sharp pain brewing in his
head as the beatings, the whipping, the drugs and
rapes � every atrocity he had ever committed against another human being - were
all being replayed in his mind in horrific detail. But instead of feeling his own
lust, thrill and power, he felt his victims� terror, their pain, despair and finally
their muted acceptance of their horrible fate. Over and over, the agony and
weight of all the foreign emotions speared through him, when just as suddenly,
the images stopped and he sagged against his invisible binds, breathless and
terrified out of his wits.

�Something wrong?� Sam asked sweetly,
as he reached down to pat the dog currently nuzzling against his legs. �Sit,�
he told it and ever obedient, Dean obeyed.

�You can�t be a demon,� Don said hollowly,
heart hammering in his chest, �I tested you. That day at the
bar. I spiked your drink with holy water, said �christo�
to you when you passed out, hell I even drew a Devil�s
Trap under your bed. Nothing happened!�

�You think something like that works on
something like me?� Sam smirked, a reminiscent glaze in his eyes.

�You�re not a demon? You�re what? A psychic freak?�

�I prefer the term �evolved human�.�

�So you�re with the authorities?�

�I am the
authority.�

Don didn�t know what the hell Sam was on about there, but then again
his own emotions and thoughts were just swirling around in his head right now
that everything seemed so surreal and maybe he�ll wake up any minute. All he
knows is that he is well and truly fucked this time. That,
and that he needs to try and make some sort of sense of the weirdness unfolding
before him.

Don was going to die and there was nothing he could do to stop it
from happening. Those pitiless eyes were telling him so. So
even as he prayed that it would be quick and painless, he also hoped that he
would die in the full knowledge of the truth. �If you were psychic, why did you
even drink the spiked beer? Can�t you tell the future or something?�

�Do you know how boring it is to walk around knowing exactly what�s gonna happen to you and
when it�s gonna happen?�

�So you�re telling me you shut off your� psychic-ity?�
His teeth were beginning to chatter now and he felt cold all over. What the
hell was wrong with him? Don had never been afraid in his entire life. He was
the man who held all the power, not like the shuddering half wits he shared his
bed with. Why couldn�t he be that man again now, when he needed to the most?

Sam shrugged. �Makes life more interesting.�
He then shot Don a pointed look. �Why don�t you ask me that question you�re
just dying to ask.�

Don�s face burned. How he hated that Sam could slip so easily into
his thoughts and read what was there. At the knowing, smug look on Sam�s face,
Don immediately shoved his fear back (and for the most part, succeeded) and
plundered on, not wanting to give Sam more opportunity to look into his mind
and dig around. �If you coulda gotten out of the cage
at any time, why didn�t you? Why did you let me��

�Dominate me?� Sam asked, finishing Don�s incomplete sentence. �It
was fun. I could�ve killed you a million different times, but this� giving you
what you wanted� letting you think you had power over me� and then the moment you realised otherwise�I mean the
look on your face, your thoughts, your feelings�� Sam sighed contently, ��it
was worth the wait.�

�Fun?� Don repeated
dully. �It was fun.�

�I was bored,� Sam said simply, as if that explained everything.

�You were bored?�

�Yes,� Sam replied
irritably, no doubt annoyed by Don�s parroting. �When you have seen and you
have done as much as I have, the world becomes small. Monotonous.
You learn to create your own fun. Or in this case, allow it to come to you.�

The shocked, betrayed words tumbled out of his mouth before he could
stop them. �What the fuck is wrong with you?� How could Sam be so cruel? How
could he do this to him? With no thought or care for Don?

It never occurred to Don to ask himself the same question.

�What the fuck is wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with you? You�re Mr. Kidnapper Extraordinaire,
Let�s Keep Them and Fuck Their Lights Out.�

�So then everything you told me, everything you did. It was all a
lie, an act?� Don didn�t think that could be possible. He had seen Sam break
down when his scars had been uncovered, seen Sam genuinely uncomfortable with
Don�s seduction and devastated when talking about his brother.

�I really do like the dog. And everything I told you about my Dean
is true,� Sam said, clearly catching Don�s stray thought. �but
as for everything else� Did you really think I was uncomfortable with your embarrassing
attempts at seduction? Dean did it better. I mean, you shoulda
seen the moves he put on me to get me to agree to sleep with him on the night
before he died. And my scars? Why would I be upset by
them? Chicks dig scars.� Sam winked suggestively as he bent to scratch the dog
behind its ears.

�B-b-but�� Don stuttered.

Sam smoothly interjected. �I think the question you should be asking
yourself is: did you batten down my
defences enough for you to see the real me, or did I lower my defences for you, let
you see the �real me�?� At the last two words, Sam made quotation marks with
his fingers, indicating the falsity of the words in this context.

The confirmation that Sam had practically shown Don little to no
true emotion since Don had brought him here, that most of everything Don had
seen of Sam was nothing more than an actor playing a part, reeling Don into
Sam�s sadistic manipulation hook, line and sinker caused the sick feeling in
Don�s stomach to grow as the stiffness in his limbs for having been forced to
be still for so long matched the throbbing pain in his head. At this point, he had
only two options. He could either proceed to dig his hole deeper and deeper,
leading probably to an overly elaborate and painful, drawn out death, or he
could somehow convince the boy to make it quick and �

�I�m not a boy!� Sam snapped, and Don winced both at the violation
to his mind and the harshness of the boy�s, no, Sam�s tone of voice. �Exactly how old do you think I am?�

Don swallowed thickly. He didn�t really understand the turn in their
conversation, but as long as Sam wasn�t trying to torture him (yet, Don added
silently), Don would humour him in whatever he wished to discuss. �Definitely older than 20, but you can�t be older than 25. 23 maybe?� Don guessed, choosing the middle of the two
integers.

A wistful, faraway look crossed Sam�s face. �I was 23 years old when
I died. But then the most amazing thing happened. I came to life again. Thanks
to my brother. There was a price for that though, and my brother paid it. But
there was also an� unforeseen circumstance. Let�s just
say never trust a crossroads demon.�

�Dean made a deal to bring you back from the dead?� What kind of
idiot was Dean? Everyone knew that making deals with a crossroads demon would
end up with the dealmaker receiving a one way ticket to hell. Surely, it was
too high a price. Or did Dean love his brother so much that he would willingly
consign himself to an eternity of torture and torment in Hell?

�He did. But he didn�t specify how
he wanted me to come back. So when I did come back, I couldn�t age. And I
couldn�t die. Believe me, I�ve tried. I�ve slit my wrists, put a knife through
my heart, blew my brains out [*A/N the strange mark on Sam�s head from Chapter
Seven], even decapitation. The wounds just close right back up again. A word to the wise though, if you�re gonna
decapitate yourself, make sure the blade is sharp. I nearly ended up as
Nearly Headless Nick [*A/N Harry Potter reference] before I healed again.
Luckily, the head grew back with no scarring. The wrists, chest and head
weren�t so lucky.� Sam adopted a thoughtful look. �You know, I always thought
that crossroads demons were like tricksters and you had to be really careful
about how you phrase what you want, but lately I�ve been thinking this was the
demons� plans all along.�

�Nearly Headless Nick?� Don asked, desperately clasping on to the unknown name (was that a
new demon that had rose in the ranks of the authorities, a new demon that Don
had yet to learn about?) in an effort to shut out the rest of the events
unfolding around him. Oh please, let Sam kill him soon so Don wouldn�t have to mortify
himself by giving in to the overwhelming hysteria.

�Kids these days, they don�t read.�

�I�m not a kid.� Good. Stalling was good. Hopefully, Don could keep
that up while he prayed for a miracle. Although time had long
since passed where humanity had believed in a Higher Being to save them.

�In comparison to me, you sure the hell are.�

�And how old are you?�

Sam smiled, remaining silent for a short moment. �I died when I was
23,� he repeated. �That was over 500 years ago.�

�You�re trying to tell me that you�re 523 years old?� Don scoffed
disbelievingly, his voice rising to a humiliating squeak.

�Give or take a few decades. I�ve lost count over the years.�

They lapsed into silence again as Sam allowed the dog to lick his
face.

Don watched the mundane sight with an almost disconnected feeling
(which was better than the hysteria, he supposed. But he hated how his emotions
were all over the place!). It was hard to believe that just yesterday they were
fucking each others� brains out, and today dread and fear were filling him in a
way that he had never personally experienced before in his life. Dread and fear
of someone he had kidnapped, a �someone� who was supposed to submit to and fear
him, the �someone� turning out to be
an ancient freak of nature with an axe to grind after Don�s mistreatment of said
freak. Oh God. Was this how all his victims felt when
Don raped and abused them? Don had never known. Had never really considered his
victims� feelings� at least not until Sam had shown them to him. And he could
see now that Don had been as cruel to them as Sam was being cruel to Don now. Was
this karmic justice?

�It could be,� Sam said, answering Don�s unspoken question. �But I
wasn�t exactly thinking about bringing a rapist and murderer to justice when I
played this game.�

�I hope you got your jollies,� Don said bitterly, his heart now
beating so fast, it would surely leap out of his chest very soon.

�You made me feel alive for the first time in a long time. But to be
honest, at first, I wasn�t going to play this game; was just going to bust out,
kill you and go back on my merry way,� Sam admitted, before adopting a look
that could only be described as �I�ve-kept-the-big-kicker-until-last-and-am-now-going-to-unleash-it.�
�And then I heard your name. Don. Short for Gordon, I imagine. Named according
to a tradition in your family of naming every first born son �Gordon� after your great, great, great, great, great, great, grandfather. The hunter who became the hunted.�

�How�d you know?� Don immediately flinched, suddenly remembering
what he was dealing with.

�I met your ancestor,� Sam answered. �We didn�t get along. And then
the second time I met him, he tried to blow me up. By the way, I think Don is a
better abbreviation for your name. Not like in third grade when you told your
friends to call you �G-Dog� and the seventh graders started calling you � what
was it? G-String?� Sam chuckled. �By the way, you will
tell good old Gordy that Sam says �hi� when you see
him, won�t you?�

�Gordy?�

�It�s what my brother called your ancestor.� Sam shifted his head
slightly to the right. �You can come out now Ruby,� he called.

Before Don could ask who �Ruby� was, the question was answered for
him in the form of a blonde haired woman slinking into the room.

�Are you done now?� she asked.

�You were tracking me?� Sam said, answering Ruby�s question with a
question as he turned to face her and arched his right eyebrow.

�You were missing.�

�I always go roadtripping for a few weeks
this time of year.�

�I know, to commemorate Dean�s death.�

�Don�t you dare mention
his name,� Sam shot icily.

Ruby immediately bowed her head demurely, muttering �Of course not.
But you were gone longer than usual, and a world just doesn�t rule itself you
know. It needs its leader.� Here, Ruby looked at Sam pointedly.

�And I told you,� Sam replied, agitatedly, �I was just out for some
fun.�

�Wait,� Don interrupted. He had been following the conversation and
would be ignored no more. �You�re Sam Winchester?
The Betrayer?� Don had had no idea what it was he had
tried to trap in his cage, already knew that he had bitten off more than he
could chew and pissed off someone who shouldn�t be pissed off when his prey had
turned out to be a predator and psychic no less, but with the revelation that
Sam was The Betrayer�

Sam�s eyes snapped back to Don�s. �I prefer the term �Lord of Demons
and Humans�. Or even, �The Authority�.�

A snippet of their conversation from only moments ago came floating
back to him.

So you�re with the
authorities?
I am the authority.

�You joined Hellside against your own
people!� Don spat disgustedly, struggling once again with renewed fervour.

�And I brought peace to the world.� Sam turned around to face Ruby
again, asking her �Why is it that everybody picks up
on the fact that I joined the demons but never mentions the peace I brought to
this backwater rock?�

�Peace through your rule,� Don yelled. �Your
tyranny.� Was he insane? Why was he yelling at the one person would could make his death a quick and painless exercise� or
a slow and agonising wait?

�Details, details,� Sam said as he waved a hand dismissively as he
turned back around to look at his helpless victim. �In the early 21^st
century, humans racked up a body count that amazed even demons. There have been
less deaths under my rule than what it was
before.�

�Except for the ones who don�t want to live under
your rule.�

�Well you can�t just expect me to take that lying down, can you? Let
them overthrow me?�

�And what about your demons? They�re killing humans whenever they feel like it.� Just last week,
Don�s colleague had been eviscerated for refusing to sleep with a demon.

Sam rolled his eyes. �That is an exaggeration. Besides, everybody
needs a way to unwind. And I do give each of them a quota on how many they can
kill. Think of it as population control.� �

Don changed tacks. �What would Dean think?� He had heard the story
of the Winchester brothers in school, the quintessential heroes before the elder
brother (his name had never made it to the history books) had died, and Sam was
lost to the demons. �He gave his life for you. Do you think this is what he
would�ve wanted? You joining the bastards?�

�My brother is dead,� Sam said with a voice that told Don he was
treading on very dangerous waters. �His ideals, fighting the good fight, it all
died with him. But the truth is, I was falling into
darkness long before Dean died. I just� put up a sham for his benefit. So he
could die without worrying about me.�

�Why Sam, you�re a sentimentalist,� Ruby exclaimed, rejoining the
conversation as she came up to Sam and hooked an arm around his. �But don�t you
think we�ve wasted enough time here now?�

Sam didn�t look at his companion but refocused on Don with greater
intensity. �I don�t appreciate being locked away,� he fumed.

Suddenly, the pressure around him began to tighten and realising it
was futile, Don closed his eyes and tried to calm his breathing as he slowly
slid up the wall and onto the ceiling. He didn�t even feel the pain when an
invisible knife ran along his stomach as blood started to drip onto the floor
and the curtains burst into flames. His fear wouldn�t let him feel anything
else.

The dog began whimpering, afraid of the fire, and Sam scooped it up
easily into his arms (oh God. It�s finally, really hit him. Don was just
moments away from being killed by the
psychic, demonic recluse who declared himself the King of the world and who was
apparently super strong as well. Should Don feel grateful that Sam wasn�t using
that strength to break him apart limb by limb?). He whispered something to it,
and it calmed almost instantly. If only Don could have that sort of comfort in
his time of dying. He let out a dry sob as bright tendrils of flame reached
down and around him, completely encasing and consuming him.

The room was nothing but flames now, the heat and smoke misting his
eyes. Yet the hatred on Sam�s face was as clear as crystal.

�By the way, the score is Don 3, Sam 4,� Sam yelled over the flames.

As the world began to fade from view, sinking Don into eternal
blackness, he saw Ruby tapping her foot impatiently. �You ready to come back to
your kingdom now?�

Sam shrugged in reply. �Why not? I�ve got
nothing better to do.�

THE END - Reviews are love!
�
So, to all the people who hated Don, here�s
a reason maybe to like him just a little bit in the end. And to all the people
who liked Don, after I categorically said he was meant to be the bad guy, I
decided to give you a reason for liking him. After all, he did repent a little
in the end

I said the story was set after Dean had
died. I just didn�t specify exactly when
it was set or how long after Dean�s death the story takes place. So it�s about
500 years after the events in �All Hell Breaks Loose�. Sam is immortal, he
can�t age and his wounds just heal themselves courtesy of the deal with the
crossroads demon. The fact that Sam can�t die was part of the demonic plan, as
Sam guessed, and not simply because the crossroads demon played a trick on Sam
and Dean by wilfully misinterpreting what was expected of it from the deal.
After Dean died, Sam fell so far from grace he joined the demons, took over the
world and consequently ruled it with the demons. They are the �authorities�
that Don doesn�t want to get involved with in Chapter Seven. As a result,
everyone knows about demons now and Sam is known by humans as �the betrayer.�
But Sam is a reclusive King. Nobody has ever seen him in public (which is why
Don doesn�t recognise Sam when he kidnaps him) and he sneaks out of his
�kingdom� every anniversary of Dean�s death, travelling incognito and flicking
the switch in his head to shut off his power to see the future, so he can still
be surprised by events. He can afford not to be forewarned because he can�t die
ever. And when he recognises Don as the descendant of Gordon, he decides to
have �fun� to ease his boredom (I reckon I�d be pretty bored if I had lived for
500 years) by putting on an act for Don, similar to what YED
did to Dean and Sam in the Season 1 Finale

CLUES
�
Didn�t say �christo�
�
You were killing yourself �
knowing smirk
�
The strange mark on Sam�s head
in chapter seven � a bullet hole
�
Sam doesn�t look after himself,
because he knows he is immortal e.g. bar fights, eating the chocolate
�
Didn�t get pop cultural or
historical references � e.g. Don Eppes from Numb3rs,
the Titanic, beastmaster, terminator � indicative of
Don not being from Sam�s time
�
�Don refers to his mother as �momma� � just
like Gordon does
�
There are hints of Sam reading
Don�s mind � like the �punch in the guts� in chapter seven
�
Dean is way too obedient and
too quick of a study without supernatural help
- 7
- 8
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