Father, I Have Sinned

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

WARNING: underage sexual relations, major character death, murder, gore.

October 9th, 1904

The sun rays rested upon the grass of the fields giving it a lighter tint, as well as the roses and other plants around the garden that stretched far from the house into the fields. The soft whistle of the wind mixed with the songs of the birds and the crash of the waves against the shore filled the air; the day was almost silent, almost dead and cold for a spring morning yet it was paradise. Castiel sat on the grass under the shade of a tree with a pen between his fingers and his diary resting on his lap; he was positioned to where he could see the house or an intruder approach. Dean sat behind a bush hiding from the eye view from the house, Sam rested his head on his brother's lap with a book in his hands.

"You know, we could go swim down at the beach or have a race-"

"No." interrupted Sam and Castiel before he could finish his sentence, Dean sighed with boredom, proceeding to run his fingers through the younger boy's hair.

"This is boring, I rather be inside sleeping." he narrowed his eyes to protect them from the sun coming from behind the clouds passing by. A sudden rush of wind passed by making him shiver slightly.

"You can take a nap here." Sam let his book rest on his chest to look at his brother, "You want to trade positions?"

"It's too bright and cool." he complained, Sam rolled his eyes.

"Well, would you rather be inside where Zachariah is meddling all the time?" a small frown formed on the older boy's face.

"No." he snarled.

"He suspects." Castiel spoke from where he sat without leaving his focus from his writing, the brothers turned to look at him frowning.

"Does he?" they asked at the same time, Dean with a small smirk on the corner of his lips.

"He suspects, has no proof, however. Do not take risks outside your rooms." he glanced at both of them. "I can not cover all of it for you." he glanced at the windows of the mansion, noticing a familiar figure staring in their direction before it disappeared. "He was there, just now."

"Zachariah?" Castiel turned his attention to Dean and gave a small nod.

"He has been following you everywhere, evidently, when he is not having intercourse with one of the maids in the house in places he thinks no one can see." he chuckled, Sam and Dean frowned in disgust.

"How do you even know all this?" the older Winchester asked with curiosity.

"I have eyes, of course I see everything." he smirked glancing back at the windows, "then again, you may not be aware the passages extend throughout the house." the brothers stared at each other in surprise and confusion.

"You mean, all this time we could have gone anywhere without being seen?" he furrowed his brows awaiting a response, Sam glanced at the house then at the boys.

"Yes." he laughed.

"That's- that's awesome!" Dean laughed.

"He is coming this way." Castiel whispered noticing a dark figure in the distance. Sam stood up to fix his clothes in disarray; Dean fixed his pants and lay upon the grass with his arms under his head pretending to snooze. They could hear the footsteps approach, the soles against the grass crushing it and the presence beginning to be known until it was so close and the sound stopped.

"Sam, Dean." he glanced down at the boys across from each other, not bothering to acknowledge Castiel's presence. The brothers ignored the man focusing instead on their current activities, Zachariah smirked lightly before speaking again. "May I have a word with you, please? In private." Zachariah glanced at Castiel for the first time. Dean pushed his body up with his elbows turning to Sam with a knowing look, the boys nodded before glancing at Castiel, who tapped his pen against the hard cover of his diary three times. They stood up to follow Zachariah silently; Castiel waited until they had disappeared into the house before standing up and walking towards a secret entrance to the house hidden by vines dangling from the walls. He carried in his pocket a small, silver key he had found in one of the unoccupied rooms; the door had been difficult to open during the first try since no one had known of its existence.

Zachariah locked the door behind him as the boys sat on the seats in from of the man's desk; Sam smirked glancing at his brother, who in turn eyed him from his feet to his lips, then smiled. They waited until Zachariah had finished pouring on a glass a reasonable amount of wine and sat behind his desk with perceptive look in his eyes; he glanced at his desk silently, then at the boys.

"As you boys know, your father left written in his will that I raise you boys as men of virtue." he finally spoke in an unrecognisable tone, "Powerful and righteous." he added; the boys kept silent without removing their gazes from him. "It has come to my attention that your salvation in Heaven may not be secure." he glanced at them for any hints of guilt. "But what would you know? You are only boys, so sad, broken and lonely." a ghost of a smile appeared on his lips; Dean clenched his fists at his sides desiring to hurt Zachariah. "Desperate for love." he pressed his lips into a thin line; Sam shifted in his seat uncomfortably unable to look Zachariah or Dean.

"Get to the point." Dean rasped.

"Of course." he smirked, "I am offering you salvation for your souls, to ensure you rest in Heaven with Mary and John when your time comes to part from this earth." he intertwined his fingers resting his elbows upon the surface of the desk. "All you have to do is confess."

"Confess to what?" Dean frowned feigning confusion.

"Your sins, your incestuous sins, only then you will be saved."

"Incestuous. What would make you say that?" Dean smirked. "What would you know?"

"I know." Zachariah interrupted. "I am aware of your relationship with your brother and Castiel." Sam could feel his breath shorten and his body tremble yet he kept silent.

"Do you have any proof of your accusations?" Dean leant forward narrowing his eyes slightly at the man.

"No, but I have seen enough."

"Has anyone else seen us together?" the smile dropped from Zachariah's lips.

"No-"

"Then you can't accuse us just because you think you 'saw' us together, for all I know you might have had a little too much of your," he glanced at he glass resting on the desk, "wine."

"Dean." he glanced at his hands, then back at the boys. "I am only thinking the best for you. Deny it if you want to, but God sees, and I know." Sam tightened his grip on the armrests of his seat making the veins more visible; Zachariah noticed and smirked with satisfaction. "Have you forgotten you are to marry Miss Braeden? You can not be with your brother forever, Dean."

"I remember." Dean responded bitterly. "Father is dead, I can not be obliged to marry her." he clenched his jaw.

"The pact still remains, and Winchesters always keep their word, do they not?" he raised his brow focusing on the boy. Dean nodded quietly; Sam could feel his heart rate speed up and his breath shorten until he became suffocated.

"The Braedens are only interested in our money, you know damn well this marriage would never last." he glared at Zachariah.

"Isn't everyone these days?" he scrunched his nose, "Most marriages are arranged and they come to grow fondness of each other."

"No." he slammed his fist against the desk making Sam wince.

"Come on, Dean. Be realistic, you can't have your brother- it's incestuous, sinful and punishable by God himself." he tapped the tip of his finger against the bible resting at the corner of the desk.

"No, it isn't." he snarled angrily, "You are not God and you can't speak for him."

"It's in the Bible."

"It's just another book written by men."

"You blaspheme."

"So do others, every day and every second, and I don't see them getting punished by God - most humans on this earth do worst things, they kill, lie and slowly destroy this planet and I don't see God lifting a finger to do anything about it." Zachariah kept silent for a moment.

"You will do as I say, Dean." he glanced at Sam who had shrank away in his seat. "And you, Sam."

"Why should we?"

"Because, you are still under my watch until you are married to Miss Braeden, I can control you in any way I want but I have given you too much freedom to do as you like, which led you both to this." the boys seemed unfazed, "And because I could get rid of Castiel just as easily." Sam's eyes widened pleadingly at the man, Dean clenched his fists with anger until his nails dug deep into his palm leaving marks.

"You have no right, don't you touch Cas." he growled defence.

"I won't have to if you comply." he smirked.

"Dean, don't let him." Sam knit his brows turning to Dean desperately. "He can't take Cas away, he's family."

"He won't."

"So what do you say?" the man glanced at the boys. Dean was silent for a moment searching desperately for a solution without hurting Sam or Castiel. The younger brother felt the surge of panic and horror throughout him, the uneasy flutter at the pit of his stomach and the anxiety building stronger in him.

"If I marry Lisa, you have to promise you won't touch Sam or Cas." he avoided looking at Sam for fear he would regret his decision.

"You have my word." he smiled.

"How do we know you will keep it?" Sam gritted his teeth.

"I am a man that keeps his promises." he grinned; the younger boy turned to look at his brother with desperation in his eyes. They had no options knowing any other choice would still separate them; Zachariah would assure Sam was sent to boarding school soon since he was of enough age to be accepted, and Dean would be soon engaged to Lisa Braeden when he turned twenty.

"Fine." Dean finally broke the silence that had stretched for a few minutes, "Sam and I will go to Father Reynolds to confess our sins, you don't send him to boarding school and Cas stays." Zachariah nodded. "What then?"

"You wait until your time for engagement arrives." he leant back against the seat relishing the power he thought possessed over the boys.

"And what if she finds out the reason I was expelled from school?" he raised his brow.

"She won't. I will make sure that doesn't happen." he pressed the tips of his fingers against each other. Sam lowered his gaze to his hands on his lap, anger and hatred burning throughout him like the fire of a furnace, yet he kept silent feeling helpless.

He closed his eyes for a moment seeking through his memories the times he'd spent in his brother's arms, how their bond had come to be; the ache he felt inside was unbearable until he reached his lowest, and he'd lock himself in his room for days without having a bite, or bringing a drop of water to his lips. Sam was a young child of ten years grieving the death of his mother, the absence of a father and he often blamed himself for how the situation had suddenly changed, how the family was abruptly destroyed. He remembers lying under the wrinkled sheets listening to the ravens out his window, the leafless branches creak and tap against the glass, the lack of light due to the constant clouds surrounding the mansion and the echoing of footsteps outside his door. Sam would close his eyes until sleep would find him, then wake up from nightmares until he could no longer keep his eyes open; for days he wept, weeks, until the tears ceased and there was nothing but emptiness and lack of hope. The agonising ache constantly wounding him on the left side of his chest became overwhelming, then it hurt too much he became numb.

"Sam?" his eyelids fluttered open at the sound of a whisper; he recognised the voice, the scent of the person lying next to him. "Sammy?"

"I thought you hated me, Dean." he responded with a hoarse tone without turning to face his brother.

"I don't hate you, you're my brother." they were silent for a moment; Dean could hear the soft breaths from the young boy.

"Could you do something for me, Sam?" the younger boy thought for a moment before turning to face Dean, then nodded. "Could you eat? For me? You are falling ill and I don't want to lose you too."

"Wouldn't it be better? If I died too? If I had never been born?"

"No, don't say that. Never." he shook his head against the pillow, "Nothing is your fault, and you don't deserve all this guilt over nothing." he brought his hand to Sam's face, who winced expecting Dean to hurt him. "Mum wouldn't want to see you like this." he caressed with his thumb the boy's cheek, Sam closed his eyes relishing the first touch from someone familiar in months.

"Does dad hate me?" his eyelids fluttered open for a moment to look at his brother fearing he may hide the truth.

"Dad doesn't hate you. No one hates you, mum dying was not your fault and everyone knows that."

"But if I had obeyed she would not have had to save me, she would not have drowned."

"No child ever obeys, you're not the first one. I guess it was- inevitable." he let his hand drop next to Sam's head resting on the pillow. "But it's okay, mum's in Heaven and she's watching over us."

"You don't mourn for her." he stated; a soft smile formed on Dean's lips yet Sam could see the pain hidden behind those verdant orbs.

"There is enough time to mourn later, right now I gotta make sure you're okay. I think she would have wanted me to look after you." he moved closer to Sam feeling the heat radiate from the boy. His eyes seemed exhausted, empty and dull, his complexion ghastly, and his face weary. "If I bring you something, will you eat it?" Sam nodded.

"Will you stay with me?"

"Yes, as long as you want me here." he smiled before disappearing out the door.

He used to enjoy the sound of the waves come and go, watch the water reach the tip of his toes up to his ankles, the feel of sand between them, the salty smell of the water and the cry of the seagulls in the distance; it was nothing but a nightmare now. He was drowning, Sam could feel the water pulling him deeper and deeper to the bottom of the ocean until light became scarce and not even the sea creatures could be seen. He could feel the water filling his lungs, the sting, the ache, the manner in which his head felt being crushed by the pressure, the coldness stealing the heat away from his body and the desperation knowing his life would end; he could not scream, not in his head, not from his mouth- could not fight against the invisible force. He forgot to breathe often times, he'd writhe against the bed fighting for his life until Dean would hold him, would wake him up.

"Sammy!" his chest heaved and his brows furrowed as the light of the moon hit his face enough for Sam to see him. "It's okay, I'm here. You're fine." the younger boy would cling to him attempting to recover from the traumatic nightmare; his body trembled against Dean's fighting back the tears.

"Sam?" he blinked twice as his vision cleared. "Let's go." Dean glanced at Zachariah still sitting behind his desk before opening the door to leave. The younger boy glanced at the man, stood up, then followed his brother. The house was dark and silent, with only a few voices echoing from other rooms where the maids cleaned; Sam could not look at his brother, instead forced himself to walk away into his room silently. Dean sighed without looking back, then opened one of the secret doors hidden by a tapestry covering most of the wooden wall and stepped inside shutting it carefully.

He inhaled the scent of the linen sheets filling his nostrils, the wood varnish and the air creeping through the crack of the window; the ache in his heart increased as it brought memories from his forgotten childhood, the memories he had kept of Dean and the first time the forbidden fruit was tasted.

Sam writhed against Dean's body fighting for dominance with all his strength, yet was certain the other would win; he chuckled as his knee hit his brother's abdomen, making the older boy force out a blow of air and lay next to him clutching his stomach.

"Dammit, Sam! That wasn't fair." he complained scrunching his nose; the younger boy claimed his victory by straddling his brother and a grin forming on his lips.

"You didn't say I couldn't do that." he chuckled, Dean opened his eyes to find Sam's staring at him. It was odd to feel a flutter at the pit of his stomach mixing with the stabbing pain where Sam had hurt him, the manner in which his emotions evolved from one to the other as if the wind blew them away. It was like describing a summer's day by the beach where the horizon met with the sky and the sun, where the colours mixed into one; it was beautiful yet impalpable.

"I- I should…" Sam whispered without removing his eyes from Dean; he could feel the strong hands holding on to his wrists with great force until it hurt. "Dean…"

"Don't- don't go just yet." he let one of his hands free to pull the younger boy closer to him, closer to his chest; Sam lay gracelessly against the older boy's chest listening to the thump of his heart against his. As if it were instinct, he raised his head to look at Dean resting his eyes, his lips met the other boy's for a brief moment; it was then when the older boy fluttered his eyes open tightening his hold on his brother's body, his lips parted slightly responding to the touch of the other's lips.

"Sam?" the boy raised his head to find Castiel sitting at the edge of his bed.

"I knew it would end soon." he muttered against the sheets as he let his head drop again.

"It has not ended just yet." he leant closer, running his fingers through the boy's hair. "I can fix it.

"How? He's going to marry that girl!" Castiel sighed stopping his hand for a moment.

"He did not lie to you, Sam." he continued running his fingers through Sam's hair until the boy's breathing calmed again. "You should not question his love for you, I know for a fact he would never agree to something without having a plan in mind."

"Can we kill Zachariah?" Castiel chuckled.

"That is a possible answer to the problem." Sam laughed, "Would you like me to?"

"Go ahead." he shrugged. There was a soft thud from within the walls, Sam did not bother to look up for he knew it was his brother; Castiel stood up to move the tapestry allowing Dean to enter the room without trouble. He stood there for a moment, staring at Sam lying on the bed without moving, then at Castiel, who rebuked him with his eyes and he muttered an apology.

Castiel took his place once again next to Sam, Dean sat on a chair next to the night table wishing his brother would speak to him. The silence was heavy, dire and uncomfortable making Dean anxious and wanting to escape yet refused.

"We can fix it." Castiel finally spoke without removing his gaze from the window; Dean turned to look at him.

"How?" he furrowed his brows.

"Do not underestimate me, Dean, I plan ahead; I suppose you did too?" the boy kept silent, Castiel sighed. "Very well." he stood up to pace around the room. "Sam, please listen carefully, I fear there might be someone listening behind the door, sit close to Dean." the sighed, then stood up to sit next to his brother without looking him in the eyes.

"Okay, we're listening." Dean indicated with his hand.

"The solution is simple yet I believe in the end this will be my fall."

"If it puts you at risk, then no." Dean shook his head.

"Not quite." he pressed his lips into a thin line. "Dean, you follow the instructions Zachariah gives you, make him believe he holds all power until you reach the age you must marry Miss Braeden, you should have your rights over the fortune then."

"Okay?" he nodded in confusion.

"You leave the rights of this house to me; you and Sam are to leave the country before the wedding is to happen, I will ensure this house is safe for your return."

"What about Miss Braeden?" Sam glanced at his brother for the first time.

"Ah yes, the lovely Miss Braeden, perhaps you are not aware of her romantic involvement with another gentleman, she is as well opposed to this marriage." he smirked; Dean smiled contented and Sam sighed in relief.

"How do you even know this?" Dean chuckled.

"I have my sources." he smiled, "You remember Anna?" he narrowed his eyes slightly at the boys; Sam and Dean seemed lost as if searching for a face to give to the name, then nodded. "I was to marry my cousin though, she was opposed as well as I, we knew it would never last."

"What happened?"

"She ran away to Europe with her now spouse." he grinned, "The day I was to arrive here is when she left, hence my delay, I was the one to help them." the boys looked at each other smiling. "You will take Sam to England, or perhaps France? I can safely take you to the port without Zachariah suspecting."

"Okay, but how do you plan to get rid of Zachariah for when we return?" Dean furrowed his brows, his elbow rested on the armchair and his palm supporting his jaw.

"Did you know his favourite wine imported from Italy is Negroamaro?" Sam glanced at the floor trying to remember the label on the bottle of wine in Zachariah's office. There was a brief moment of silence with only Castiel's footsteps filling the room, Dean's eyes widened at the realisation and a terrified shiver travelled down his spine. "It would be shame if his indulgence killed him." he raised his brows slightly with a stoic expression displaying on his face.

"Son of a bitch." Dean muttered with a smile. "You're insane."

"I have surpassed insanity." he glanced at the boys with a malicious gleam in his eyes; the tapping of the branches against the glass and the ravens croaking loudly did not help with the malevolent image it added to Castiel's persona yet the boys lay their trust upon him; he was family and the only one to keep their secret safe. "Do you fancy a walk by the shore?" the boys nodded silently.

Sam stood on a rock gazing at the still waters beyond his reach, far from where the waves started to form, and at the sky, remembering the day his life changed. Mary sat next to John and Dean, they laughed, they smiled happily not imagining how life could change in one second; Mary glanced around her in search for Sam yet he was no where to be seen, then they heard him, screaming and calling for help in the distance.

"Sam!" she dropped the items in her hands running towards the water, Dean followed his mother but John stopped him.

"Let me go, dad!" he screamed as he kicked against his father but John held him tighter with fear creeping into him watching his younger son drowning. Mary reached the boy despite the sand particles hurting her eyes, her arms pulled him close to her chest until they reached the surface of the water; she gasped for air while swimming to the shore yet the waves kept pulling. John took Sam in his arms, trusting Mary could make it to the shore by herself; if only he had returned for her, Mary would be alive.

He remembers how the wound healed slowly when Dean took him to the beach everyday, promising everything would be okay, and it was, as long as he held him tight against his chest as he wept the guilt away, as he let go of the grief and the pain. It was okay to cry and be broken, it was okay to let himself shatter right there; he was healing by and by because he wasn't lonely. It was how he fell in love with Dean.