Day 1 of Goretober/Kinktober: Vomit
An: This isn't great, I wrote it very vaguely in like a day. It's more of a character piece/what if than anything else. Not actually a lot of gore but it is about Dean drinking and later vomiting up blood so be warned. I'm using @lifeonthemurdersim 's Goretober/Kinktober prompt lists for my October writing
Description: Dean came back from purgatory alone, Benny didn't make it through. Or at least that's what Dean thought, but soon he realizes why he came back different. (I will neither confirm not deny if Benny actually came through w Dean as I find both interpretations fun in this context)
The trip from purgatory had been harder than Dean thought it would be. His body felt like it was being torn apart, worse than anything he experienced in Hell. Though he wasn’t hungry like he was when Castiel pulled him from the pit, Dean was thirstier than ever; nothing seemed to help.
Something felt off for weeks, lights were brighter, sounds were louder, he felt constantly dizzy like he hadn’t eaten in days. Maybe Purgatory does things to you, things you can’t come back from.
Dean would think about Benny often during these confusing days. They had been so sure he would be able to hitch a ride back with Dean. There was no proof, but they didn’t have proof Dean could make it back either; it was easy to believe when all you could do was move towards a goal.
Hunting had taken on the same sort of manic rush he had felt there. Sam didn’t understand anything about Dean’s situation, didn’t understand how hard Dean had fought to get out. For fuck’s sake, Sam gave up on springing Dean months ago.
They split up the moment Dean figured out the situation.
After a shifter hunt, he stays at the scene longer than he should have; something about the smell of the blood. It was like something came over him. Dean leaned down to the lifeless form on the floor, pressing his face against the wound. His heart was pounding, blood thrumming hard through his veins; the dizziness got worse, he was just seconds from the eye of a storm. He opened his mouth, the iron taste of blood seeping sweet and delicious into him; the moment Dean tasted it he was gone, gulping and sucking at the gash in a frenzy.
All the lore about purgatory is strange, cryptic, and entirely wrong if not terribly vague. The only thing any of the books got right was it being the afterlife for monsters. No human had gone before him, no one had made it back. With no leads Dean took to experimenting however he could; something’s gotta give eventually.
Everything felt clearer after that; the blurry, too bright lights crisping up at the edges; the sounds that overwhelmed him becoming more distinct, less jumbled; and the dizziness leaving his body completely. Dean felt on top of the world for about ten seconds, then his stomach turned and he doubled over, retching onto the floor. The blood tasted harsh on its way back up – nothing like the delicious elixir he drank – and left long dark stains along the edges of his mouth.
The thirst had become a cycle, weeks of feeling worse and worse until he would give in. Every time it happened Dean would end up surrounded by it later - sometimes seconds, sometimes hours. Chunks of whatever food he had managed the night it happened nearly indistinguishable from the lumps of coagulation.
He was shaking, breath ragged as he tried to push down each round of gagging. Dean couldn’t believe what he had done; each bout of vomiting cleared his mind until he was struck with a thought, what if Benny did make it through. The overwhelming feelings he'd been having started to sound like a vampire who just turned when Dean thought about it.
By the time Dean’s stomach was empty, a lake of dark blood had taken shape around him. He had to get Benny out.
On these days he would talk to Benny. No one answered, of course; the jokes and little quandaries about life made it more manageable. From philosophical speeches ad-libbed to little observations about the porn Dean had been watching in his free time, no topic was off limits. It reminded him of when he was just barely an adult, Sammy still a teenager trapped with their dad; they would lay in bed at night, just talking about whatever came to mind. He had those sorts of conversations with Benny by the side of a fire that never seemed to actually make them any warmer. Dean always thought about his baby brother when he had these talks.
Letting Sam see him like this, an addict constantly in the state of withdrawal but unable to consume the substance he craved, that would truly be torture.
In the frantic search for some way to get Benny his own body, Dean finds something. A spell to alchemize a body, minus soul, out of everyday household things. This was the most promising thing he had so far, if he could get Benny’s soul into a brand new and unoccupied body then it would be just like they planned.
Dean never felt more alone than when he did in those moments – reaching out for anyone to hold onto and coming away with absolutely nothing. As it happens, Sam was feeling alone too.
Reaching out for his older brother as he had always done, Sam started following Dean on hunts and insisting that since they were in the same place they should work together. Dean kept pushing him away, but never stopped telling Bobby where he was even though he knew that’s where Sam was getting his information.
The night of that revelation Dean took out a nest of vamps. He had been avoiding vampire hunts – afraid the blood would still be able to turn him postmortem. Dean wondered often if he could turn or if he was in some sort of vampire limbo. Still, the risk was something the man avoided as much as he could. It would put him right back where he started.
He knew it was going to be one of those nights; the sickening feelings that preceded it had become routine for Dean. The vamps would have gotten away if he hadn’t gone after the nest that night.
Being surrounded by beheaded bodies, the blood oozing out of them, completely drenching the entire compound; it doesn’t take Dean long to give in to his hunger. He gorged himself on it – fresh from the bodies, slurped up from the floor, licked off the walls – and made it all the way back to his motel room before it came back up.
Dean almost convinces himself it won’t happen this time, laying in his shitty bed when the retching starts. He loses about a gallon of blood and other fluids on the floor between there and the bathroom, a few puddles connected with thin trails. He is bent over the toilet, face pressed against the filthy seat, not bothering him nearly as much as it should, when Dean hears the door to his room open and someone rushes towards the bathroom.
The door busts open, the crash making Dean flinch in place. Sam’s voice is loud and booming as he frantically questions his older brother.
Dean starts to reassure him but gets almost immediately interrupted by a bout of gagging, black blood seeping up his throat and out of his mouth. He watches it bloom in the water.
The next morning Dean wakes up in a room filled with the acrid smell of stomach acid and blood. He feels like he’s being crushed, something holding him in place. Opening his eyes, the light in the room stabs painfully into his pupils obscures the object over him. When his eyes finally adjust Dean finds Sam halfway on top of him, the comforter a barrier between their bodies.
Whatever happens, they’ll make it out alright. They’ll make it through together, ‘cause they’re the fuckin Winchester damn it.
Sam is on his knees beside Dean, his hands running along Dean’s back as a reassurance to the other man. They sit together on the floor until Dean is empty and babbling things he would call pillow talk in any other circumstance. Conversations he’s had with the idea of Benny for the past few months; having another person to respond to him is the biggest comfort Sam could possibly give him.
Sam doesn’t ask Dean any questions, instead pulling the drenched clothes from his body and wiping tacky blood from his skin with a rough washcloth from the cabinet under the sink. He carries the shorter man to his bed and tucks him in, laying on top of the covers beside Dean, watching him.