Dirty Dealing (Azazel / lil!Dean)
May. 31st, 2010 03:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tehdirtiestsockoriginally posted here, in response to the prompt: "He came for Sam but young Dean looks so sweet. Azazel offers to bring his mommy back and Dean takes the deal." obviously, this means extreme underage, since Dean is 4.
linked to this before, but I'm moving it to my journal because I'm thinking about adding more. so, no new content yet, sorry!
"What's wrong, son?"
The boy's little face was washed-out pale in the glow from the house fire, and his chest was beginning to heave with panic and upset. The infant—his little Sam, his once and future king—squirmed anxiously in his brother's arms, too big a bundle for such a little boy, but Azazel wasn't worried...Sammy-boy was already more indestructible than he appeared.
Little Dean stared up at him mutely, unable to answer a simple question.
The fire engines would be arriving any moment. And any moment, that fool John Winchester would realize his wife was gone, and would fall back for the sake of his boys. Azazel had gotten what he'd come for, but he couldn't walk away from this wobbling lip and big green eyes.
This one, too, had a destiny. He could be useful in the rearing of Samuel between now and then, but Azazel looked at the boy and saw another way.
He squatted down in front of the boy and made a sympathetic noise. "You saw your mother get hurt, didn't you, Dean?"
Dean's breath hitched and he squeezed his brother tight, til he was squalling. One pretty tear overflowed and spilled past thick eyelashes. Azazel could taste that despair.
"She's dead, Dean. She's gone and she's never, ever coming back. You'll never have a mommy again, and Sam will never know her at all."
The child made a wordless cry like a wounded animal and stumbled back, landing heavily on the grass. His arms were locked around the baby, but he'd forgotten all about him, body wracked with sobs.
Azazel loomed, and grabbed the child's chin sharply to get his attention. "You can save her, Dean. I can make it all go away, if you say yes now. Come with me, and everyone will be safe and sound."
Azazel felt his impatience rise as the seconds ticked by and the child stared at him dumbly. John would be arriving any second. He took the infant out of the child's arms and placed him on the grass, holding a hand out to the boy.
"Make up your mind, Dean. Your mother is dying. Take my hand and you can save her."
The little fingers had scarcely brushed the meat suit's when Azazel swept the small body into his arms and disappeared into the crowd. No one would make note of the strange man disappearing with a distressed child, and no one would find it odd that a baby was screaming on the lawn while his house burned.
No one would believe John Winchester when he swore his wife was murdered. He'd raise his one remaining son in blood and vengeance and very little else, and Dean would never know that he'd sold himself for nothing.
Azazel hadn't sealed the offer with a kiss. He was saving that for later.
He didn't take the boy far. By morning, the news would be plastered with photos of a child who'd wandered off in the aftermath of his mother's tragic death. It was the kind of thing that got attention, and stirred the instincts of mothers in a hundred mile radius. Everyone would have an eye out for a pretty little orphan with big sad eyes.
No point in risking it, when they could hide a while in plain sight. Azazel's little meat puppet had a nice place a block away from the Winchesters' house, and he'd had a brat of his own before the demon had snapped its neck.
He had access to all the bells and whistles a growing boy needed to stay alive, and as long as he kept Dean himself out of sight, no one would look too hard in their direction.
Mr. Parker had been a bit of a loner before Azazel took the wheel. And he had a useful amount of knowledge on the care and feeding of a human child. This couldn't have worked out better if snatching the boy had been part of the plan in the first place.
As for Dean...well, what more could a demon want in a human pet? Easy on the eyes, completely mute, and utterly obedient. He could see why the heavenly host had an eye on this one.
"Finders, keepers."
The kid's eyes had a dumb, glazed quality, ever since Azazel broke the news about dear old mom. There was something to be said for pliant prey, but he was growing bored with it.
Azazel took hold of the dick he'd been rubbing over that soft, creamy face and smacked it against that tiny bowed mouth. The father stuffed in the back of the suit's brain sobbed, and tried to beg before the demon choked it off.
The boy blinked, and then flinched when he was dick-smacked again, eyes clearing enough that he reared back from the thing in his face.
The demon grabbed the neckline of his shirt and tugged before he could get too far. "There you are, Dean-o. Welcome back."
Dean still wasn't speaking--which was fine by him--by his eyes darted around the strange house, breath growing erratic.
"You looking for Daddy?" Wide green eyes locked on his own, and the boy nodded. "He needs you to stay with me for a while. He told me all about what a good little soldier you are. He said you'd make him proud and do what I say until he comes back for you."
That's right, Dean, Daddy left you here with me. Left you. But he took Sam, didn't he? Daddy never loved you best. Azazel watched the child fight off the panic the way his father wanted, struggle not to cry. His chin was a little wobbly, but he nodded, in the end. John's little soldier. Now, Azazel's tool to forge. He'd grind the righteousness right out of this one.
"The truth is, Dean, your daddy asked me to teach you some things. Now that Mommy's gone, you're gonna have to pick up her slack." When Dean's eyes welled up and went unfocused, Azazel hauled him closer by the collar and gave him a light smack on the cheek. "Hey, none of that. Your daddy has no use for you if you act like a baby. Are you a baby, Dean?"
A hiccupy sob, but he shook his head no.
"Of course you're not. It won't be easy, but I'm sure you can learn to fill in for your mommy. Give your dad the things she used to. You want me to teach you how to do that, Dean?"
Of course he did.
"Good boy. He knew you would. Now open your mouth and stick out your tongue. Do it for Daddy."
linked to this before, but I'm moving it to my journal because I'm thinking about adding more. so, no new content yet, sorry!
"What's wrong, son?"
The boy's little face was washed-out pale in the glow from the house fire, and his chest was beginning to heave with panic and upset. The infant—his little Sam, his once and future king—squirmed anxiously in his brother's arms, too big a bundle for such a little boy, but Azazel wasn't worried...Sammy-boy was already more indestructible than he appeared.
Little Dean stared up at him mutely, unable to answer a simple question.
The fire engines would be arriving any moment. And any moment, that fool John Winchester would realize his wife was gone, and would fall back for the sake of his boys. Azazel had gotten what he'd come for, but he couldn't walk away from this wobbling lip and big green eyes.
This one, too, had a destiny. He could be useful in the rearing of Samuel between now and then, but Azazel looked at the boy and saw another way.
He squatted down in front of the boy and made a sympathetic noise. "You saw your mother get hurt, didn't you, Dean?"
Dean's breath hitched and he squeezed his brother tight, til he was squalling. One pretty tear overflowed and spilled past thick eyelashes. Azazel could taste that despair.
"She's dead, Dean. She's gone and she's never, ever coming back. You'll never have a mommy again, and Sam will never know her at all."
The child made a wordless cry like a wounded animal and stumbled back, landing heavily on the grass. His arms were locked around the baby, but he'd forgotten all about him, body wracked with sobs.
Azazel loomed, and grabbed the child's chin sharply to get his attention. "You can save her, Dean. I can make it all go away, if you say yes now. Come with me, and everyone will be safe and sound."
Azazel felt his impatience rise as the seconds ticked by and the child stared at him dumbly. John would be arriving any second. He took the infant out of the child's arms and placed him on the grass, holding a hand out to the boy.
"Make up your mind, Dean. Your mother is dying. Take my hand and you can save her."
The little fingers had scarcely brushed the meat suit's when Azazel swept the small body into his arms and disappeared into the crowd. No one would make note of the strange man disappearing with a distressed child, and no one would find it odd that a baby was screaming on the lawn while his house burned.
No one would believe John Winchester when he swore his wife was murdered. He'd raise his one remaining son in blood and vengeance and very little else, and Dean would never know that he'd sold himself for nothing.
Azazel hadn't sealed the offer with a kiss. He was saving that for later.
He didn't take the boy far. By morning, the news would be plastered with photos of a child who'd wandered off in the aftermath of his mother's tragic death. It was the kind of thing that got attention, and stirred the instincts of mothers in a hundred mile radius. Everyone would have an eye out for a pretty little orphan with big sad eyes.
No point in risking it, when they could hide a while in plain sight. Azazel's little meat puppet had a nice place a block away from the Winchesters' house, and he'd had a brat of his own before the demon had snapped its neck.
He had access to all the bells and whistles a growing boy needed to stay alive, and as long as he kept Dean himself out of sight, no one would look too hard in their direction.
Mr. Parker had been a bit of a loner before Azazel took the wheel. And he had a useful amount of knowledge on the care and feeding of a human child. This couldn't have worked out better if snatching the boy had been part of the plan in the first place.
As for Dean...well, what more could a demon want in a human pet? Easy on the eyes, completely mute, and utterly obedient. He could see why the heavenly host had an eye on this one.
"Finders, keepers."
The kid's eyes had a dumb, glazed quality, ever since Azazel broke the news about dear old mom. There was something to be said for pliant prey, but he was growing bored with it.
Azazel took hold of the dick he'd been rubbing over that soft, creamy face and smacked it against that tiny bowed mouth. The father stuffed in the back of the suit's brain sobbed, and tried to beg before the demon choked it off.
The boy blinked, and then flinched when he was dick-smacked again, eyes clearing enough that he reared back from the thing in his face.
The demon grabbed the neckline of his shirt and tugged before he could get too far. "There you are, Dean-o. Welcome back."
Dean still wasn't speaking--which was fine by him--by his eyes darted around the strange house, breath growing erratic.
"You looking for Daddy?" Wide green eyes locked on his own, and the boy nodded. "He needs you to stay with me for a while. He told me all about what a good little soldier you are. He said you'd make him proud and do what I say until he comes back for you."
That's right, Dean, Daddy left you here with me. Left you. But he took Sam, didn't he? Daddy never loved you best. Azazel watched the child fight off the panic the way his father wanted, struggle not to cry. His chin was a little wobbly, but he nodded, in the end. John's little soldier. Now, Azazel's tool to forge. He'd grind the righteousness right out of this one.
"The truth is, Dean, your daddy asked me to teach you some things. Now that Mommy's gone, you're gonna have to pick up her slack." When Dean's eyes welled up and went unfocused, Azazel hauled him closer by the collar and gave him a light smack on the cheek. "Hey, none of that. Your daddy has no use for you if you act like a baby. Are you a baby, Dean?"
A hiccupy sob, but he shook his head no.
"Of course you're not. It won't be easy, but I'm sure you can learn to fill in for your mommy. Give your dad the things she used to. You want me to teach you how to do that, Dean?"
Of course he did.
"Good boy. He knew you would. Now open your mouth and stick out your tongue. Do it for Daddy."
