
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/805970.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Character:
      Sam_Winchester, Dean_Winchester, Penny_Markle
  Additional Tags:
      Weecest, 12/16, Kissing, Touching, POV_Outsider, non-plot_spoiler
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-05-16 Words: 1723
****** Penny Markle and The Serial Killers ******
by anniespinkhouse
Summary
     Just what did Dean (or Sam) do to Penny Markle in 6th grade? This is
     how she remembers it.
Notes
     Disclaimer: This is all fiction, pure fantasy folks. Unfortunately,
     Kripke and CW get to keep the boys.
Penny looks in the mirror, at the lines around her eyes. She shouts her daily
goodbye to her middle-aged, middle-waged husband, then sets about applying make
up for her drab day, in her dull life. She applies a spot of cover to the scar
on her forehead, the same as she has done every day since she was twelve. She
used to only remember disgust and self-righteous anger during the daily
routine. Now, she remembers bright sunshine, and the excitement of discovering
forbidden sex. She remembers passion, danger, and a scorching hot display. She
wishes she had appreciated it back then. She'd give anything for a hint of the
same excitement these days.
                                      ***

When Penny Markle was twelve, if she wanted something, she got it. Penny wanted
Sam Winchester. She painted her lips with gloss and sidled up to him by the
lockers. “Do you want to go for soda after school?”

Sam blushed.

Penny flicked her long blonde hair. All the boys wanted her, and Sam was such a
nerd that this sort of opportunity wouldn't come around often for him. It was a
burning hot day in Texas, so she went for the clincher. “My daddy's at a church
meeting tonight. You can come around and use the pool.”

Sam hid his eyes behind his bangs and shook his head. He rushed away, like he
was being chased by the devil, without stowing his stack of books.

In math, Penny bribed Lucas, with gum, to exchange seats, so she was next to
Sam. She swung her legs, and blew gum bubbles at Sam. Sam wouldn't look up from
his books.

In science, she pushed little Dylan out of his seat, to sit opposite Sam. She
made sure her top button came undone, so the lace and ribbon starter bra her
mom had bought her, peeked out. Sam dropped a test tube, Penny smirked, and the
teacher shouted at him.

At lunchtime, Penny couldn't find Sam. She eventually sighted him by the school
gates. He was talking to an older, tall, blond and fit boy, wearing tight black
jeans with a Motorhead tee shirt. The boy leaned against a shiny black motor,
in a confident pose. Christ, he was handsome.

Penny remembered something about Sam having an older brother, Dean, and the
prize got shinier. If Sam dated her, then maybe he would introduce her to his
brother. The other girls would be crazy with jealousy when she dropped Sam and
hooked up with Dean.

She saw Dean laugh. He looked up for a moment, and she realized that she had
sneaked too close, in her need to spy. Dean looked at her. Bright green eyes
over sun-freckled cheeks, tracked her progress as she backed away, along the
sidewalk. Dean returned his gaze to Sam, and gave him a fond smile. Something
was said, and he patted Sam on the back before he wiped the shining
perspiration from his brow with the bottom of his tee shirt, revealing pale
flesh and firm abs. Then, Dean lit a smoke, got in his car, and put on his
shades. Sam turned his back and trudged through the door of their school, to be
early for afternoon lessons, no doubt.

Penny's heart fluttered and raced when the car slowed, by the curb. Cigarette
smoke curled in the air and thumping rock music blared. Dean tipped his shades
up into his strawberry blond hair and gave a lopsided, and sexy grin, around
his smoke. Long fingers tipped a piece of paper at her. “My brother's kinda
shy,” he drawled, before gunning the engine with a roar. Rubber burned and
tires screeched. Penny swooned.

She read, and re-read the note in the privacy of a toilet cubicle. She was
stoked.

In Social Studies, Penny swapped seats with Amanda, and sat next to Sam. She
let her skirt ride up, and dragged painted fingernails over her gym-toned
thighs. Sam tripped over a chair as he hurried out at the end of class. He was
a looker, with those dreamy eyes, lithe body and shiny brown hair, but he sure
was awkward. He didn't have the charm or experience of his brother.

Penny sighed and daydreamed through history. At break, she boasted to her
clique about the cool older boy who was going to ask her out.

After the last lesson, Sam was gone before she even closed her locker, but that
was okay, she knew where he was going. She applied more lip gloss, lined her
eyes with kohl, hitched her skirt and ignored her parent's rules to go straight
home from school.

The high school playing fields were yellowing and dry underfoot, but all Penny
saw, was the black classic car parked on the street that bordered them, and the
old wooden bleachers, which were her destination. She saw movement in their
shadow, a flash of denim and pink flesh. She licked her lips. Dean might be her
goal, but she was curious to see what Sam kept under his shirt.

Her canvas pumps were quiet on the grass, and the angle of her approach, under
the bleachers, hid her from view. As she got close, she realized that Sam was
not alone. She stilled under the first bank of seats, to see better. Dean was
with Sam and they relaxed shirtless against the wooden supports. Their heads
were bent close in conversation. Very close conversation.

Oh, holy shit! They weren't talking.

Penny's mouth dropped open. They were kissing, and this wasn't a brief familial
greeting. Sam was sitting on Dean's thighs, his smaller body flesh to flesh
with his brother, not a gap for air. His mouth smashed into Dean's and they
kissed like they were trying to devour each other. Sweat gathered and dripped
down their skin, and there was a rhythmic rut to their movement. One of Dean's
hands tangled in Sam's hair, while the other caressed the bony line of his
spine. Sam's fingers curled into the back of Dean's neck, as the other hand …
Oh God! His other fingers smoothed a line up Dean's inner thigh all the way to
the zipper, to rest on the bulge there. Nimble fingertips flipped the button,
and pulled the zipper down.

“Oh, yeah little brother. Feels good Sammy,” groaned Dean.

Something, bobbed out, pink and erect, and fucking hell, was that what she
thought it was? She'd done the sex ed class, but a banana didn't compare. Sam
didn't hesitate to curl his hand around it. Penny's stomach churned. She knew
what this was, and how very wrong it was. They were perverted weirdos. She felt
sick and disgusted.

Just then, she heard Dean's laughter. He looked directly at her, mocking her.
Sam looked up and blushed wine-red when he saw her. His embarrassment was
obvious. “Penny, Oh! Oh god!” He looked to his brother for reassurance. “Dean?”

Dean wrapped long muscular arms around Sam, brushed his cheek, and kissed his
forehead, “S'okay, Sam.” He gave Penny a hostile and unnerving glare. “Nobody
fucks with my brother, only me, do you understand me?”

“You're sick perverts,” shouted Penny.

“But I'm not all alone under the bleachers with perverts, when mummy and daddy
don't know where I am or what I'm doing. We're not the little church-girl who
flashed our bra at the bad boy in the car.” Dean's eyes glinted with dark
threat, “You have no idea what dangerous creatures you might be flirting with.
If we're not frightened to do this, imagine what else we might be capable of,
little girl.”

Penny was suddenly terrified. She turned on her heel and ran. The last thing
she heard before she ran into the sharp edge of one of the bleacher supports,
was the sound of Dean chuckling, and a frustrated, giggly, “Dean!” from Sam.

Penny woke in an ambulance, to the disapproving gaze of her father, and the
cool professionalism of the medics. At first they attributed her story to
concussion, but when she continued to insist, the headmaster, police and fire
officers became angry with her 'lies'. They had found her in the teachers'
restroom, unconscious under the edge of the wash counter, when a fire klaxon
had sounded. A cigarette had been smoldering by her fingers. The evidence was
there for everyone to see. Penny had gone to the room for an illicit smoke,
tripped the smoke alarm, panicked and banged her head.

Police were thorough enough to check on the Winchester boys, but the motel
manager insisted that they had checked out in the early afternoon, left town,
and hadn't been back. When Penny was recovered from concussion, she felt the
palm of her father's hand on the back of her legs.

School changed after that. Decent parents didn't like a girl with a filthy
imagination mixing with their children. Boys avoided her in case she spread
lies about them. In a way it helped. During her teenage years she put her head
down and hid in the library instead of partying, and she gained good grades.
                                      ***

Penny styles her hair, and sighs. She puts her brush back in the drawer, and
her fingers touch the smooth, silicone of her vibrator. When news stations
first reported on the co-dependent and psychopathic Winchester killers, she had
excitedly pointed them out, vindicated by the story, but nobody remembered the
Winchester brothers staying in their little town. Few people listened, and
nobody believed her.

Penny knows though. She was one of their first victims. She witnessed their
danger, their passion and their lust for each other, and she escaped. Penny had
been special enough to live. Their mug shots showed that the pretty young boys
grew into strong, beautiful looking men, and the excitement of their crime,
made them more attractive to her.

Some days, when her boring, ignorant husband is away, she imagines meeting Sam
and Dean again, full grown now, on a bank raid, or at the scene of one of their
mass murders. She pictures them making out in front of her, or including her in
a rampant threesome. Sometimes, they leave her tied and sated, as the only
survivor. Other times, she takes off with them on their crime spree. Her
fingers tighten around her sex-toy. Now she considers it, she has ten minutes
before she has to be anywhere...
                                     ~end~
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