One Last Game

Chapter One

Summary:2-shot. Sam's trying to cope with fighting to find a way to save Dean from the Mark of Cain. To release stress he heads to a bar to play some pool and have a few drinks. After Dean has to come to his aid and they end up back at the bunker, Sam challenges his brother to a game of pool with some interesting rules if he wins. *Limp/hurt/angsty/worried!Sam & Stressed/worried/protective!Dean with guests shots by Castiel & Charlie. *Spoilers* (Wincest)

Warnings: Language as well as some minor violence in the beginning and since this will be Wincest before the end, the usual explicit stuff as well.

Tags/Spoilers: It takes place after 10x18 Book of the Damned and may have some spoilers.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the muse's brain that thinks up this stuff.

Author Note: The muse and I fought until this one finally turned Wincesty. Of course it also turned from a 1-shot to a two-shot but it's better than an 18K 1-shot.

SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN

Ever since it was becoming fairly clear that any cure found to save his brother from the Mark of Cain would and could cause bigger or darker effects Sam Winchester had started to walk from the bunker to the bar in the small town just down from it.

Dean was going to bed earlier these days and Sam was hoping that was because he was tired and not because he was hiding from letting him see if he was getting worse so Sam would wait for Dean to go to bed before slipping out and he never drank enough that he couldn't get himself home…or he didn't usually.

That night he'd drank a lot more than he usually did and accepted an hour ago that he was well past drunk so he'd either have to catch a cab or risk his brother's temper by calling Dean to come and get him…or drink himself under a table and since the bartender had become somewhat of a friend he knew he'd just toss a table cloth over him until the morning.

There were two other people at the bunker who drove but he didn't want to deal with either Charlie or Castiel when drunk either so he was leaning toward his other plan when suddenly his night of blissfully drinking himself into forgetting that his older brother was slowly losing his battle against the Mark of Cain on his arm was interrupted by some sore losers.

Normally when Sam came to the bar to drink that's all he did. On that night when he'd first arrived he'd been restless, on edge so had decided to play pool by himself until he settled down. He'd been into his third game when a group of college kids approached the table to challenge him to a game.

A single look told the hunter the one who'd spoken considered himself a player. It also told him that they'd been drinking already which should've been his clue to refuse the challenge but Sam was just enough on edge still to take it with a simple nod of his head and then let the preppy college boys dig their own graves as more and more money was laid on the side of the table.

Sam leaned on the pool stick to watch the boys play themselves under the table all the while thinking they were scamming the 'old guy' which made him bite his lip and gave himself a moment to recall being in college 10 years earlier himself.

He'd had two beers while letting this play out to his satisfaction but two beers were hardly anything to Sam. He heard the bartender mutter something about not wanting another scene like his brother caused last week which reminded the younger Winchester that he needed to find out just what Dean had been up to that night he'd left him alone while he and Castiel were off breaking Metatron out of Heaven's jail.

Sam waited until the guys were done bragging it up and playing to the crowd before finally deciding he'd had enough and reached for the chalk, leaned over the table to eye his first shot and slowly lifted his eyes with a pure Winchester smirk at the surprised 'players'. "Let's play."

From the moment he was old enough or old enough to fake his way into bars, his father and brother had been taking him into them. Dean had taught Sam everything there was to know about running a pool table in the best way possible to get the best payout since most times back in the day, days that Sam longed for now, they were either hustling for money in bars by playing pool or running credit card scams.

Neither were methods Sam had liked when he first hit the road with his brother but he'd slowly started coming around and now didn't bat an eye when he hustled pool with the best players around. The only person he still couldn't beat was his older brother so running the table this time took Sam no time at all.

The money in his pocket wasn't even important to him. He'd played the game mainly to try to teach the hotshots to know better next time. Then he lost himself in shots of whiskey and rum, neither were drinks Sam could handle well and would knock him on his ass which he knew and accepted this time. He was looking for a way to numb the pain that he knew would come if he failed.

He was just drunk enough that when the sore losers started hassling him that he took the first fist to the side of his head without even seeing it coming and then all hell broke loose.

Sam had been taught to fight by both an ex-Marine for a father and Dean. He'd picked up some on his own as well but he knew fighting when plastered was not a good plan but the assholes had picked the wrong time to start a fight with him.

He'd been burying fears, loss, and other feelings for months and that night they all came pouring out. He might end up in the ER but he figured he'd take a few with him.

The bartender shouted over the noise of the fight while trying to keep any of the other customers from jumping on Sam or calling the cops as he'd already placed the single call he knew he'd have to. He just had to make sure Sam wasn't bleeding too badly or else he would be calling for an ambulance soon.

"Guys! Cut it out, back off and leave the guy alone!" he shouted as he finally came around the bar when he saw one of the college guys pick up a pool stick while two others had finally gotten a bloody and barely conscious Sam pinned between them. "Guys! You seriously don't want to do that!"

"This asshole cheated us!" the one who'd actually lost snapped back as he grabbed a handful of thick hair to yank Sam's head back while his pal with the stick prepared to slam in against Sam's skull. "We've gotta right to get our money back and ain't no one can tell us differently!"

"Is that so?"

The deep voice that spoke from the door of the bar had heads turning, Sam trying to give a drunken smirk up at his attackers and the bartender groaning under his breath about damages and property values.

"This don't concern you, old man," the lead prep growled in what he thought was a menacing voice that scared all the Freshmen on campus. "This prick cheated us and now we'll showing him that was a mistake."

"Damn. I remember being 26 and going to Stanford after him. Those were the good ole days," Dean Winchester eyed the four college guys with a sharp eye before sliding his gaze to his younger brother to take in the blood, the bruises and other results of the fight to slowly return his hardening look to the leader of pack while letting his lips curve into a slow hard smile that anyone who knew him well knew meant trouble would be coming. "You okay, little brother?" he asked while tossing his jacket over to the bartender as he slowly crossed the floor to where the four stupid preps were still holding Sam, intentionally stressing his relationship to Sam in case the guys were smart enough to understand why their actions were not wise.

"Maybe," Sam replied, words slurred from too much liquor and the beating he'd just taken.

Dean paused in step to throw a better look at Sam. "Huh," he grunted and knew whatever had caused this had to have happened before Sam got drunk.

The older Winchester had known what his brother had been doing for the last week but he'd let it go until he saw if they were getting closer to getting the Mark off his arm or if he'd be taking Sam out for a night of drinking and pool playing before having to say goodbye.

Dean hadn't been sleeping that night since he found it impossible to sleep when he didn't know exactly how Sam was getting home and Charlie and Castiel were gossiping as the hunter called it in the library of the bunker and Charlie's laughter could carry clear to the dungeon…as Dean knew after testing the theory out.

The moment his phone rang and he heard the bartender's voice and the noise in the background, Dean had been pulling his boots on, grabbing for his keys and vowing blood if someone was stupid enough to touch his drunk off his ass brother.

"Did you hustle these guys, Sam?" he asked while pushing the sleeves up on the flannel button down he wore while eyeing the four sore losers.

"Yep."

"Yeah, you're drunk," Dean smirked at the all too proud one word answers he was getting. "Did you pick them or did they pick you?"

"Latter."

"Were you this drunk when you pulled that hustle off?" Dean doubted it since while he could still hustle any game going while drunk he knew his little brother couldn't so the next solo response wasn't a surprise.

"Nope."

"Did they realize you were playing them?" Dean asked as he got close enough to now see how bad Sam was bleeding but also to see his eyes were locked on him so he suspected that while Sam was drunk he wasn't as bad as what Dean and the bartender had first believed.

"Hell, no," Sam snorted, tensing his arms as if to try to pull free of his captors hold while watching his brother's face. "You taught me better than that."

"That I did," Dean laughed and then caught Sam's eye just long enough to give him a subtle smile and a nod before launching his fist into the face of the first punk holding Sam's arm just as his brother let his bruised body go limp. "Running a pool table isn't the only thing I taught my little brother though," he told the men while spinning on his heel to grab the throat of the leader to shove him hard against the closest pool table while catching movement out of the corner of his eye. "I also taught him how to fight and not always fair."

Sam might be drunker than he liked to be and he knew he'd get an ass chewing the next day for this but now that the odds were a little better he was able to hit the one guy who'd been holding his arm after they'd lost their grip when he'd let his body drop and Dean's punch leveled the other guy.

From the corner of his eye, Dean saw Sam take out the other asshole and then level the one with the pool stick before he could slam it over his back while his focus was on the leader.

"Now see I could let this go. Sure, you losers got in a few more shots on him than I like. I could say that's his lesson for getting his ass plastered after hustling morons but…that's not your luck tonight," he told the guy, fingers tightening on his throat just enough to catch his full attention, green eyes hard and cold as his temper struggled for control since Dean knew he couldn't risk losing full control right then.

"Let me tell you how I bet you thought this night would go down," the hunter began while noticing that the one guy he'd punched didn't know how to stay down but he would after Sam's next punch hit square on the jaw. "Your four fancy preps came in here looking for an easy mark to hustle because I bet you think you're hot stuff on that college campus. You saw Sammy and even being 6'4" with that long hair and big sad eyes he probably had on since he'd be moping if he was in here you saw an easy mark, laid your claim and then you and your buddies built up a stake while outdoing one another and then expected him to blow his first shot. Except Sam wasn't the mark you thought he was.

"He cleared the table, took your cash, bruised your egos and so after he got bombed when Nate served him more than just beer I bet you decided to jump him. How close am I?" Dean heard the sound of the last guy going down and glanced over to see Sam weaving but on his feet which despite everything made him prouder than hell.

"He…ugh!" the guy gasped as fingers tightened just a fraction more as Dean leaned down more into his face. "You are walking out of here, and your buddies don't need an ambulance because my brother is on his feet. If Sam was down, you'd be down and you might not get back up," he growled lowly, the threat plain in the gravel tone Dean spoke with. "Since that kid was old enough to go to school, there was one thing, one promise I've kept and will keep until the day I can't anymore and that is…if you touch my brother, I will rip your lungs out and feed them to you."

Dean felt his arm burning, could taste the violence in the air as he stared into wide eyes as his point finally got across. Then he heard a voice call his name and he backed off slowly. "The pool game? That was a lesson to not assume to hustle someone just because he looks like he can't hold a pool stick. Me not kicking your ass all over this place? That was also a lesson. Touch my brother again and I won't repeat the lesson. So, how much did you take the assholes for and will it cover the damage?" he asked in an easier tone while turning to face Sam only to sense the danger even before Sam started to shout and the bartender yelled his name. "Punks used to learn easier."

John Winchester had taught both his boys how to fight, how to survive, and how to sense when danger was close. Dean's senses were keener than ever right then. He'd been hoping the asshole wouldn't charge him when his back was turned but he knew when he turned to brace for the attack.

He was shifting to the side even as Sam was shouting and starting to move toward him but Dean was able to catch the guy's wrist, jerking his arm behind him while wrapping his other arm around his neck tightly. "Now that was a mistake," he said tightly.

The Mark wanted blood, it wanted violence and Dean right then wanted to give it to it. He nearly did as he yanked the twisted arm up enough that he knew it would break with one more twist even as the guy started to fight more as his air was cut off.

"Dean!" Sam was drunk but not enough to not see what was happening and felt his stomach clench as he prayed he didn't see black eyes when he blinked the bar into one as his eyes kept splitting into two and he looked at his brother. "Dean…he's had enough. Let go?"

Dean stared at Sam for a long moment before slamming the guy's head into the bar and let him drop to the floor while he took his jacket from the bartender, laid some cash down and then was reaching for Sam's arm even as the younger man weaved again when he tried to walk. "Let's get you home and sobered up, Sammy. I'll wait until you're puking your guts up in the morning to gripe or bitch."

Sam might not be as drunk as he had been but the beating he'd taken wasn't making his head feel any better. He groaned as the rumble of the Impala's engine seemed to go right through it after Dean had gotten him into the passenger seat.

"I…I didn't plan to get into a brawl," he mumbled on the drive back to the bunker, keeping his eyes closed because he feared the sudden rolling in his stomach might make him puke and Dean was probably angry enough without him throwing up inside the Impala.

"Oh, you didn't plan to get into a brawl but you did plan to get shitfaced drunk?" Dean rolled his eyes while parking outside instead of pulling into the underground garage like he might've any other time. "That reassures me. How were you planning to get home exactly?"

"Nate would've let me sleep in the back room and then I'd walk home in the morning like I did a couple times when you were…umm, never mind," Sam shut up but still heard the sound of grinding teeth and Dean's fingers tightening on the steering wheel before he shut off the engine.

"I won't even ask how many times that happened," Dean muttered. He wanted to but he knew his emotions were suddenly on edge and he just wanted to get his brother inside the bunker, leave him to take a shower while he went and got drunk himself to try to dull his own emotions.

There were times when Dean missed the days when his little brother was actually little because when Sam was sick, hurt, or drunk to the point where he needed help walking the damn four inch height difference as well as the extra muscle Sam still had on him was a pain in the ass to maneuver without sending them both crashing down the metal spiral stairs once he got him into the bunker's main door. It also didn't help any that when Sam was drunk and emotional, he was also very…handsy.

If Dean missed anything that had changed since he became aware of the damn Mark's influence again and since they'd been so busy trying to hunt a cure it was the other side of his relationship with his brother, the side that wasn't legal in most of the country and the one that had been happening since Sam hit 17. The one that he'd been trying to keep clear of since he didn't trust his control and would be damned if he'd hurt his brother either on a hunt or during sex.

Now he just had to keep reminding himself of that as he tried to get Sam down the steps and into the shower room when his drunk little brother's hands suddenly grabbed his just as they got to the main floor to try to tug him toward the map table in that room.

"I want to feel you tonight, Dean," he said, eyes still a little too glassy and huge for Dean to even consider sex anyway but it was damn hard after weeks of wanting to touch Sam but fighting back the urge. "Table sex or…"

"You're drunk and hurt so…no…God, I hate myself, table sex for you or…oh…hi," Dean had been trying to avoid Sam's hands which had suddenly found their way under his shirt and get his brother moving toward the hall when he looked up at a sound only to be reminded that a drunk and demanding Sam was even worse when they didn't have the damn bunker to themselves. "He's…drunk."

Charlie's eyes were huge and her hand was clamped over her mouth to keep back whatever she'd almost said when she and Castiel had stepped into the main room at the sounds of Dean's return to find a drunk and bloodied Sam working his best to get his hands under his brother's shirt while saying something the little red headed computer nerd turned hunter swore had been table sex.

"I also believe a more proper term for Sam's condition would be horny," Castiel remarked in a perfect deadpan tone, his expression totally calm as if this was nothing new to be seen. "What? It is?" he said when Charlie hit him looking shocked. "Heaven was fully aware of Sam and Dean's incestuous relationship and while of course it wasn't approved of…"

"OMG, dude! That is way too much visual information for me!" Charlie now blushed furiously as she looked at the brothers. "That was not in Chuck's books!"

Dean shot the Angel a murderous look. "Thanks a lot, Cas," he grumbled. "That's not exactly something Sam and I put in our Christmas cards."

"You do know that December 25th isn't the day that Heaven states Jesus was born, don't you?" Castiel asked as if totally unaware of how close the hunter was to ending his very existence right then. "Therefore, the sending of cards seems…pointless and why would you announce having sex in a card or…"

"Cas!" Dean snapped as Charlie pounded on his arm yet again.

"Dean?" Sam sat on the edge of the map table to try to bring his brother into focus when he blurred into two. "Did I just hear Cas tell Charlie that Heaven knew we were having sex?" he asked curiously, fairly certain if he were sober that he'd be as red as Charlie's hair right that moment. "Does that mean Heaven was peeping at us?"

"Shit, all three of you are going to make me insane before this mark does," Dean muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face while latching onto Sam's shirt before he fell backwards onto the table. "Yes, you did hear the soon to be kicked out and warded against moron in the trench coat announce to Charlie that we have sex," he said between clenched teeth while vowing not to shove a shiny blade through Castiel right then. "And…remind me to find out about that other thing later. Now, you're going to take a shower…alone…and I'm going to try not to get drunk while reassuring Charlie that you and I will not do…anything while she's in the bunker or…"

"Take Cas and go for pizza, Charlie," Sam called over his shoulder. "I want shower or table sex and…"

Charlie giggled this time because it was so cute for her to see Dean frustrated but also so openly devoted to his brother that she wasn't sure how she'd missed it all this time.

"Sam's drunk and probably concussed so he's rude," Dean said after biting back a groan. He was two steps from seeing if he could still get Sam over his shoulders to carry him to the showers or even his bedroom before he came back to punch out Castiel for having a big mouth when Sam's next comment stopped him cold.

"I'll play pool with you for sex," Sam knew Dean had put a pool table in what he called the game room and they had actually used it for pool once or twice and for a lot more on other times. "If I beat you, we have kinky sex and if you beat me I'll go to bed…alone…again," he added with more than his usual pout at going to bed alone.

"Dude, you can't beat me at pool when you're sober much less when you're drunk and have just had your ass handed to you in a bar fight," Dean pointed out with a smirk, giving a slight nod to Castiel's cocked head that yes, he could touch Sam to heal him. "Hold still and let Cas use that mojo for something since he's useless in getting this thing off my arm."

Sam started to jerk when a fingertip touched the center of his forehead and suddenly all his pain went away along with the effects of the alcohol until he blinked. "I still want to play you pool…for sex."

"Sam…" Dean groaned but then stopped to stare at Sam's face. "When I win then you have to apologize to Charlie for being rude just now and stop going to the bar to get drunk," he said in a sudden acceptance of his brother's demands. "You two have to clear the hell out in case by some miracle Sammy actually beats me."

When Castiel started to open his mouth to speak, Charlie's hand clamped over it to shut him up. "No problem," she promised and meant it.

She loved the Winchesters like her own brothers but there were things like all younger siblings that she just did not need to think about or imagine.

"You serious?" Sam didn't think Dean would go for it and now that he actually had, it made him uneasy because he did know that he'd never beaten Dean at pool.

"Go rack 'em," Dean replied while pulling his jacket off to take a slow deep breath that he let out while watching Sam head to ready the pool table. "You can stay and watch for now," he told the duo as he debated on this plan. "Sam's never beaten me at pool so this won't table long."

"There's always a first time," Charlie spoke up with a grin; a grin that faltered when Dean turned to look at her with a tiny smile and a wink while pressing something into her hand.

"Yeah, there is that," the hunter said before turning to step up to the table after they'd decided that they'd play best four out of five. "If you win and that's a big if, little brother, if you win no kinky sex because I don't trust the mark to not go too far if you're cuffed or tied and can't get loose. Agreed?"

Sam considered that. He knew the mark had been why Dean had pulled away from him. He knew his brother was scared of hurting him so he guessed he should've seen that condition coming. They both enjoyed the kinky side of their sex but Sam also understood Dean's need to protect him from himself so he nodded. "Agreed," he said and would just be glad to even have this time with his brother.

"Why would Sam be handcuffed or tied during intercourse?" Castiel's voice suddenly spoke up and Sam was sure his cheeks went red.

"I'll tell you about sex and the BDSM scene later," Charlie said from beside him.

"Oh the hell you will!" Dean shot out and threw them both a hard look of warning. "There will be no sex talk in the bunker, especially not between the two of you and especially not if it's going to end up involving me and Sam and what we do or do not do during…shit!" he banged his head on the table. "This is why you and I don't play well with others, Sam!"

"Hey, you're the one who took him to a brothel one time. Didn't you have this talk with him then?" Sam chuckled. He was embarrassed but did enjoy teasing his brother when he thought he could.

Charlie's eyes bugged out. "You really did take an Angel of the Lord to a brothel?" she squeaked. "Dean! Major hell points…oh…" she looked horrified at what she'd said until Dean gave her a reassuring look to say it was fine.

"I've been racking those points up long before I went there, kiddo," he replied and then pointed to two chairs. "Sit down and zip it so I can wipe Sasquatch's ass at pool and then go back to sleep like I was before I was called to break up a brawl."

"But you weren't…" the angel started to say only to finally think he understood Dean's dark look even before Charlie pulled him into the chair. "…sleeping."

"I will banish your ass if you don't shut up," Dean growled while flipping to see who would play first and smirking as he got the toss. "Remember who taught you to play pool, little brother," he lined up the cue and gave it a skilled shot that sank four balls almost instantly before lifting his eyes to Sam's. "I just didn't teach you everything I knew yet. Now watch the master at work and get ready to lose."

TBC