A/N: Hey guys my first attempt at a dark fic. Probably will be a multi chap fic if you guys like it!

Warnings:

AU Sam and Dean serial killers

WINCEST

Short non-con scene not between Sam and Dean

Graphic violence/ Mean John Winchester

You have been warned! No flames please!

Disclaimer: I don't own I simply rent

It's not the demon blood that made Sam go bad. Maybe it was the fact that he saw his mother burn when he was only six months old, that could mess up anyone. Maybe it was the way he was raised, never being able to form meaningful attachments in early childhood can lead to some undesirable results. Some may go as far as to suggest it was just the wrong combination of genetics, lord knows there were some unstable members of both the Winchester and Campbell family.

Either way, a few drops of demon blood didn't make any difference. Something inside Sam Winchester is broken, black, unhinged. He ropes you in with the sweetest smile and the most soulful eyes and you are won over before you even look too closely. If you did look however, you would see something fundamentally missing in those hazel depths.

Dean Winchester may have had a shot if he didn't love his brother so damn much. Professionals speculate that Sam was the one who was born wrong, and Dean just followed suit to be with his brother. Either way, the 'why' behind it doesn't matter. Whether Dean wanted to go bad or just did it for Sam is inconsequential because either way Dean went bad, and they don't get much worse than Dean Winchester.

Most of the time according to witness statements and video footage, its Dean that does the killing. Dean is loud, sarcastic, and extremely violent. Upon first glance it appears Dean's running the show and one might even think Sam doesn't even want to be there, unless they look at him closely and notice the satisfied smile Sam get's when Dean's torturing someone.

Dean had always been considered the bigger threat, even back when this all first started.

(Five Years Earlier)

Sam Winchester shut his locker for the last time that day. School was finally out and Dean was waiting for him outside in the Impala. Even though Sam was 17 Dean still liked to pick him up from school when he had the chance.

Sam had almost made it out the door before he was stopped by his gym teacher.

"Winchester," the older man smiled, kind blue eyes crinkling.

"Hey coach Donavan," Sam smiled back. He liked the coach a lot, he made gym class tolerable.

"Do you have a minute Sam? I wanted to talk to you about something after class today but you rushed out of there."

"Sorry about that," Sam laughed. "I had a test in math I couldn't be late for."

"Blowing off your physical education duties for another class? I should fail you," Coach Donavan grinned.

"Sorry coach I'll run an extra lap next time."

Coach Donavan gave Sam a friendly smile and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Sam there really is something I wanted to talk to you about; can you come to my office for a few minutes?"

Sam hesitated, knowing his brother was outside waiting for him, but ever the polite one of the two he could hardly tell his teacher no. Sam quickly sent Dean a text telling him he would be a few minutes late he was in the coach's office talking to him and then followed Coach Donavan.

"Have a seat Sam," the coach gestured to a chair in the cramped office. "I wanted to talk to you about the basketball team."

"Coach we've talked about this already," Sam sighed. "My dad doesn't like me doing any extracurricular activities."

"I know Sam so you said, but the team could really use a string bean like you," the coach winked. "I've seen you play, you're good, and you could be the star."

Sam shifted uncomfortably at the praise, checking his watch.

"The star," the coach continued, "would receive some definite perks."

Sam frowned as coach Donavan kneeled down next to where he was sitting and gently placed his hand on Sam's thigh.

"The team needs you Sam, I need you."

"I have to go," Sam said quickly, growing increasingly alarmed at the strange situation unfolding.

"Not quite yet." Coach Donavan's face grew darker, his pupils widening in lust. "Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are Sam?"

Sam quickly stood up, ready to bolt. The coach however, anticipated this move and quickly slammed Sam against the wall.

"I'll scream," Sam warned.

"School's out," coach whispered against his throat. "No one is here. Come on Sam, you can't tell me you don't want this."

Sam pushed against the coach, surprising him with his strength. He took a swing at the coach but his panic made him sloppy, allowing him to easily be pinned again.

"You're stronger than you look beautiful," The coach murmured, allowing his hands to run over Sam's body. "You can't win though, before I took this joke job I was a wrestler, you aren't getting away."

"You don't know me very well," Sam said through clenched teeth as he brought his palm up, promptly breaking the coach's nose.

The coach screamed and brought his hands up to his bleeding nose and Sam took the opportunity to run for the door. His hand was on the knob, he was almost there, when he felt arms encircle his waist.

"Is this how you want it?" Coach Donavan asked him harshly, slamming Sam's chest up against the wall. "Do you like it rough beautiful?"

Sam cried out as the coach roughly pulled down his pants and jammed one completely dry finger in his virgin hole. The coach bit down on Sam's neck as he jammed another finger in, pumping and scissoring. The movements were so hard a small trickle of blood started to leak from the hole.

Sam couldn't move. The coach was stronger than he was. In this moment Sam futilely wished he listened to his father and trained harder, he would be more prepared. In reality, his training was doing very little to help him, his limbs were frozen in shock. He was completely paralyzed, helpless against the burning intrusion. Hot tears leaked out of his eyes and all he could think about was Dean.

He had had a crush on Dean for years. Dean knew, he had to have known, it was so obvious the way Sam worshipped him. Sam wanted Dean to be his first, his only, but any chance of that was completely ruined now. Sam was tainted, broken; there was no recovering from this.

"Hey!"

Both men turned around at the new voice.

Dean Winchester stood in the doorway in complete shock, unprepared for the sight before him. His baby brother was pressed against a wall, a strange older man's fingers breaching his opening. Dean focused on Sam's tears, the obvious pain in his features, and he felt something snap.

There was no logical reasoning left in Dean's mind, only white hot fury. He didn't stop to think, he could barely control his body as he whipped out his knife. He strode purposefully to the man and didn't blink as he ruthlessly slit his throat.

Time stood still as the man fell to his knees, dark red blood spurting out from the gash in his throat. Sam pulled up his pants and kneeled in front of the dying man, transfixed.

Sam's hazel eyes darkened as he felt something inside of him break. He slowly dipped his fingers in the dying man's blood and brought it to his lips. He smeared the liquid across his face as the man widened his eyes.

"Am I still beautiful?" He whispered, watching as the light faded from the man's eyes.

Dean stared at his brother. He had never seen Sam like this before. His brother looked like some wild entity, the innocence gone from his features, replaced with a curious fascination with death. It was the first time either of them had participated in the death of a human being; it wasn't as hard as it should have been.

Sam was untamed, as the coach said, he was beautiful. Dean slowly walked over to Sam, not sparing a glance at the Dean man, and pulled him against himself. Without thinking, Dean captured Sam's mouth in a fierce kiss, opening a door they could not come back from.

The family moved right after that, escaping speculation. The brother's couldn't deny the changes beginning within them; you just don't heal the same way after something like that. Sam and Dean continued to explore the new physical aspect of their relationship, carefully hiding it from John's watchful eyes.

Or so they thought.

Sam was studying one day while Dean was out. He was engrossed in the text when the bedroom door crashed open.

He could smell the whiskey on his father from across the room.

"Little Sammy," his father slurred, walking over to the bed.

"Dad," Sam wasn't sure what to say, he had never seen the look that was on his father's face before.

"My youngest son, my baby boy," John continued, not seeming to hear him. "How could you do this to him?"

"Dad I don't know what you're talking about," Sam said, backing up nervously.

"HE PROTECTED YOU," John roared. "Protect Sammy, watch Sammy, keep Sammy safe, it was all he ever knew and you took advantage of him."

"Dad calm down," Sam pleaded.

"You made him do it, you made him touch you that way, and he listened because I always told him to keep you happy."

"Dad-

"TELL THE TRUTH!" John reached out and back handed his son, causing Sam to see stars.

"Dean loves me!" Sam backed against the way, eyes darting for an escape route.

"Is this how you want to be loved?" John pinned Sam against the wall, roughly shoving his hand down Sam's pants. There was no sexual desire there, only a burning desire to cause his son pain. "Is this what you want you sick freak?"

'No no no not again' was all Sam could think as his father held his dick in a painfully tight grip.

"Dad you need to stop, please," Sam begged, trying his best to push the hunter off of him.

"He was always better than you, the perfect soldier," John snarled. "You corrupted him, ruined him, you do nothing but ruin everyone around you!"

Sam started to cry then, trying so hard to block out his father's cruel words. He could feeling the darkness inside of him he had been trying so hard to contain since that day in the coach's office seeping into his heart, twisting it into something unrecognizable.

His father leaned in and whispered into his ear, "I should have just let you burn."

It took a moment for the sound of the gun to register in Sam's mind. His father's painful grip slacked as he fell, the bullet in his head killing him before he hit the ground.

Dean looked on with hard eyes, the only clue of his mental state in the way his hand that gripped the gun shook a little.

Sam ran over to Dean, burying his face in his neck.

"Dean I can't believe you did that," he whispered. "Dad was your hero, you must hate me."

Dean pulled Sam back and gently cupped his face.

"Sammy you should have learned by bow," he breathed against his lover's lips. "I will burn this whole world down for you."

Sam looked at his brother for a moment before making a decision.

"Then show me."

(Present Day)

Yes, most people thought with his violence, explosive temper, and utter devotion to Sam that Dean was the more dangerous one of the two killers leaving dead bodies everywhere they went. However, if you were to ask the dead women in their motel bathroom, she would tell you that Sam, with his shy smile and soulful eyes, was the one you should really watch out for.

A/N: So what do you guys think? Should I continue? Review and let me know!