Craving

Sam made a special effort to look good for Dean that night. Dress shirt paired with Dean's favorite tee, the one he’d said was barely legal for him to wear in public because it was so damn tight. He actually tried to style his unruly hair, but mop that it was, it just curled on the ends and hung in his eyes anyway.


He wore nice jeans, ones he figured Dean would like cause they showed off his ass. He even thought about cologne, but Dean always said he liked the way he smelled, so he skipped it. With a final glance in the mirror, Sam hurried down the stairs and out the front door.

Arriving at the park, Sam parked the Impala under a large weeping willow and slid from the drivers seat, the door giving a familiar creek and groan as he opened and closed it behind him.

"Sam!"

Sam looked over to find Tom waving him over and nodded, heading through the crowd toward him.


"Whoa, look at you all spiffy." Tom chuckled.

Sam raised a brow, grinning, "Spiffy?"

Tom shrugged, "It's as high as you rank, Winchester. Just spiffy."

Sam huffed and shook his head, "You only say that cause my date is better lookin' than yours."

The evening carried on in pretty much the same manor. Sam hanging with his friends, as he kept an eye out for Dean. But soon eight o'clock came and went and no Dean.

Sam was sitting on one of the marble half pillars gazing off toward the parking area, no longer smiling or talking to anyone come ten o'clock.

Tom walked up behind him and slapped him on the shoulder. "It's okay, buddy. You're better off without him anyway." he told Sam as he walked by, his arm around 'the flavor of the week'.

Sam frowned, but didn't answer, knowing Tom meant well, but it wasn't helping his mood any. Not at all, not when Dean was two hours late and everyone was looking at him with pity.... the same look they were giving him that night at La Push, not to mention the comments ...well, he tried to ignore those, even as they made the ache in his heart grow.

He stayed at the park for longer than was probably necessary, after all, five hours late for a date was pretty damn late. It was obvious Dean wasn't coming, but Sam had stayed and waited anyway.

Once Sam made it home he went straight to his room pulling off his jacket and grabbing his phone. He called Dean but there was no answer, so he left a message. This went on about twenty more times, the messages going from slightly bummed to worried, to angry to down right pissed off.

That was how Sam fell asleep that night, half on and half off his bed, cell still clutched in his hand, still dressed.

Waking the next morning he called again, before even rolling out of the bed. Still, no answer. The message he left was sarcastic and angry.

He got up and went in the bathroom, took care of business and came out after his shower, and called again. The messages he left this time was teasing and dirty then angry and hostile.

What the hell was going on over there? Where was Dean? Then a thought struck him and Sam's heart skipped a beat. What if he went to the Res.? What if something had happened to Dean? Sam called again, this time the message was worried, panicked and edging into horrified.

Finally unable to take it anymore, Sam grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. He climbed into his car and headed for the one place he thought he might be able to get some answers. The Cullens.

Reaching the house, Sam parked the car and slid from behind the wheel. Going up to the door, he didn't bother with the door bell, instead he banged on the door with his fist. "Dean! Alice! Emmet! Rosalie! Jasper! I know one of you are in there! Open the Goddamn door!"

Inside, Esme, Alice and Jasper sat, silently looking at each other. They'd known he was on his way, it had been Emmet's turn to watch over him and he'd called. Esme looked at the magazine in her hand, but all she could think of was the anguish in that boy's voice, and see Dean's somber face as he left them.

Sam banged on the door again, "I mean it! Don't you fucking do this to me! Dean! Dean!"

Sam laid his forehead on the door, breathing heavy from screaming, his heart breaking a little more. He sniffled, only realizing then that he had tears in his eyes.

Reaching over he rang the doorbell. "Alice!...please talk to me. Tell me where he is. Is he okay? Did something happen? Alice!!!" Sam punched the door and turned storming back to his car, tugging open the door. He slid behind the wheel and revved the engine, tires squealing he tore out of the driveway. They wouldn't talk to him, there was one other Cullen who might. Sam headed for the hospital.

"I wish Dean had just turned him," Alice said, looking at the others. "I like him, and I like this new Dean."

Esme nodded, and got up. "Edward and Bella found a way."

"Dean's more stubborn than Edward."

Jasper took Alice's hand and got up. He'd make her feel better, make the weight of other people's troubles lift from her shoulders.

* * *

Sam arrived at the hospital to a messy waiting room. Apparently everyone decided they needed to see the doctor at the same time that he did. Well, bloody noses and broken bones could wait, dammit, they weren't going anywhere! But, somehow, the nurse at the welcome desk didn't see it that way and told Sam he would have to wait.

Sam sighed as he walked over to take a seat in the waiting room. Fine. He'd wait. He'd wait all fucking night if he had to... apparently he didn't have anywhere else to go either.

Hours later, after twilight, when Carlisle learned that Sam was still waiting for him, he walked to the waiting room. Emmet and Rosalie, who'd been watching over him from the moment Dean left town had reported he had barely slept. Now he was sprawled over a too small chair and in a deep sleep.

Reaching down, he shook Sam's shoulder. "Wake up son."

Sam jerked away, eyes wide as he looked around unfamiliar surroundings, before looking up at Dr. Cullen. He sat up quickly, pulling to his feet, "Dr. Cullen, Dean, where is he? I've looked everywhere and I've called. I went by the house and no one will talk to me. Is Dean alright? Did something happen?" Sam asked, eyes wide with panic as he gripped Carlisle's lab coat lapel.

"He's alright," Carlisle answered. "Come into my office." Sweeping his hand down, he made Sam release his deathgrip and walked out of the still crowded waiting room. Down the hall, they walked through a door, and he closed it behind them.

Looking briefly at the wall covered with diplomas and awards, he rubbed his eyes. "I'm sorry for the wait. We've had a busy day, mostly due to the festival, and I thought you would give up," he admitted.

Sam shook his head, jaw clenched. "No. But, apparently everyone is doing everything in their power to get me to," he hung his head, "Even Dean." Sam looked up at him then, "Where is he? Why won't he return my calls? Did I do something? Was it something I said? I don't understand... any of this."

Dr. Cullen didn't agree with his son's methods. He was one to tell things as they were, and he felt Dean should have done that. Instead, he'd made everyone promise to keep his secret, hoping that ditching Sam like this would earn him Sam's hate. Carlisle had his reservations about whether the plan would work, too, but as Dean had colorfully pointed out, 'it was his fucking business and not theirs.'

"He left. He's gone. It's nothing you did, Sam." Again, he put his hand on the shoulder of the boy who had brought happiness into the life of his youngest son. "It's the situation. He thought it over and decided it's... it's not meant to be. Wolves with sheep... sorry, that was a dumb analogy, let's try chickens and foxes."

Sam felt like he'd been sucker punched. His breath stolen from him as Dr. Cullen told him Dean had left, just up and left him. No warning, no talking about it, just left.

Sam forced his face to remain placid, not show how much he was dying inside as he shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. He nodded, staring at the floor. "Cats and mice." he said softly. Slowly he looked up at Dr. Cullen, "th-," Sam paused, fought back emotions, nodded, "thank you for telling me. At least someone did." Sam said softly, before walking past the doctor and out the door.

Carlisle listened as the slow, leaden footsteps drew farther, then face grim, he reached for his phone.

* * *

Days slipped by, and Dean didn't know how many. He didn't even know what city he was in anymore, he just drove and stopped wherever. Right now, he was on his back, on the bed, staring at the single crack in the high ceiling of the luxurious hotel he'd checked into. It was picture perfect, except for the crack.

He and Sam... they'd never been picture perfect. Well Sam was but...

A few days ago, right about this time, he'd probably either be sneaking into Sam's room or waiting for him to leave his great aunt so that they could do something. A lump grew in his throat even as he tried to tell himself this was how it had to be. Romeo and Juliet was NOT a happy ending. Love did NOT always save the day. And vampires weren't meant to be with humans, let alone with sons of hunters.

Sam should be with kids his age. Able to let his hormones drive him wherever... Not have to hide his boyfriend from the world, or live a freaky double life, one in the open, the other closed up in his room. Right... that's why the thought of anyone else's mouth on Sam's had his fists clenching around the blanket under him. And that's why the idea of Sam telling anyone else he loved them had fucking tears threatening to roll from his eyes.

"Sammy," he whispered huskily, just because he missed saying the name. He sniffed, then wiped his eyes. Carlisle had told him how upset Sam was, and so had Alice. He knew Sam, he knew he'd eventually turn those feelings into anger... even some of his phone messages proved it. And once he was angry enough, his pride would kick in, and he'd never look for him again.

Happy... that's what he should be... happy. Rolling on his stomach, face in his pillow, Dean went back in time to the first moment he set eyes on Sam. He would relive every second of their time together, over and over... it would last him many lifetimes, it would have to, because he didn't have to forget, couldn't forget. "Sam..." he talked to the image in his mind.

* * *

It was Thursday, and still Sam hadn't come into the cafeteria once. The Cullens were quiet, looking at each other, feeling different degrees of guilt.

Alice picked her styrofoam cup apart, creating a messy pile on her tray. "He's going to starve himself. Dean's going to kill us." It was true. In the short period, Sam's face had become drawn and almost gaunt. His usual quick smile was lost, and the sparkle was gone from those friendly eyes.

"I could try to make him feel better," Jasper offered. But he was the newest to this way of existing without human blood, and most apt to slip up if he were too near and something happened.

"Dean would kill us if you accidentally killed him," Emmet said.

"It might be better, then Dean could come home. This is just stupid," Rosalie pouted.

"He didn't have to be such a jerk to him. He could have told him the truth." Pushing away from the others, Alice got up. "I'm going to talk to him."

"Alice, you can't tell..."

She raised a perfect brow. "Can't?" She wouldn't, not unless she felt she absolutely had to. But if that point ever came, then she wouldn't hesitate. Her brother was being an idiot, just like Edward had been. You'd think they'd learn from each others' mistakes. "See you in class," she answered Emmet and gave Jasper a smile, before leaving them.

There were a few places Sam haunted these days. He probably didn't even realize himself why he was sitting at those particular stairs outside the school. They were right in front of the empty spot in the parking lot. Dean's spot.

A friendly smile curving her lips, she headed toward him, like him, unmindful of the drizzle threatening to turn into a downpour.

Sam had sat on those same steps everyday at lunch since Dean had left him. He just couldn't be in the cafeteria, couldn't be in the same room with Dean's brothers and sisters. Couldn't see how happy they were together. Couldn't watch them move, talk, see their flawless skin, all so much like Dean's. No, he couldn't do that. He wasn't that strong. Maybe Dean was right... he was weaker than he thought he was, than his father had always lead him to believe.

Slowly, he looked over toward the side of the building, where the cafeteria was, and that's when he saw her walking toward him. Sam flinched, his eyes widening slightly for a moment, as he looked at her and an image of Dean slapped him in the face. Sam pulled to his feet and turned, walking away from her... and the image.

"Sam, wait." She could catch up to him easily, but she didn't. It wasn't her place. Once he disappeared into the building, she headed back.

* * *

In his room later that night, Sam slowly closed his cell. He couldn't believe it. Well, yeah, he could actually... it wasn't the first time John Winchester had said he was going to show up to something for Sam and didn't... but this... it was different. Sam had planned on begging his Dad to take him with him after they took care of Trevor. He no longer wanted to stay in Forks, no longer wanted to be there at all. Now, his Dad wasn't coming. He wasn't fucking coming! He had told Sam to 'handle it' or call Bobby. That he was too close to the demon to give up and come out there right now.

Sam huffed and reached back, grabbing the lamp off the night stand and threw it against the wall, watching as it shattered. Great. Just fucking great.

*

Trevor anxiously paced as he waited for Sam to pick up. Dammit, even now that Dean was out of the picture, the other cold ones were always near. Why the hell couldn't they go back to whatever hell they'd come from?

"Pick up," he practically yelled, reaching a tree and pacing away, then calming the instant he heard the voice on the other end. "Come see me. I can help you."

Sam had frowned at his cell when it rang, he stared at it for a few minutes before finally snatching it up, flipped it open. "Yeah?" he asked. "Who...? Trevor? How the hell did you get my number? Help me...what?" Sam asked him frowning as he pulled from his bed, looking out the window.

"Get over that asshole. Get away from his family, what else? It's what you want, isn't it?"

"I highly doubt..." Sam frowned harder, "Dean and I are fine. Why would I want to get away from him and his family?" he was lying and he knew it, but he didn't need Trevor of all people knowing anything about what was going on. "Look, I suggest you lose my number, real quick, dude. I don't want anything to do with you. You're... not my type. Sorry."

"You don't have to pretend. Everyone knows he left you. I know you're hurting, because you believed in him... I could see it in your eyes. He tricked you, mesmerized you. It's something they do, and you don't even know it. I can get rid of the bad medicine ... you'll forget all about him. Meet me. Come to the res." A branch broke in his hand, a scowl marring his face at hearing the insult. His bitch would be taught a lesson.

"Look, I don't think so. I don't know that I'll be coming to the Res. anytime soon actually. Uh, my Dad is coming and well, I think I might be leaving with him anyway. But thanks anyway, have a good night."

"Sam! Wait. Fuck." He stared at the phone for a second and then redialed. "Sam, don't hang up again. Do you know you're a prisoner? That he's left you and you're still a prisoner. They follow you around all day. One of them is out there, watching your house right now. They're like snakes, vipers... secretive, do things behind your back."

Sam sighed, "Trevor, don't you have something better to do than pester me?" he leaned out the window, looking around. "And dude, there is no one out side my window, sorry. Now, good night." Sam hung up the cell again.

Trevor rang again, and again, and again until Sam picked up again. "I can find him."

Sam stood still as a statue for a second, was even pretty sure his heart had stopped for that second. He swallowed hard, "You -you can?" Sam licked his lips, nodding as he walked toward his door, grabbing his jacket. "Okay, I'll be there. La Push. In half an hour."

He shut the phone, his eyes flashing red. "Bingo."


* * *

"Pick up Goddamnit... pick up... Sam!" The relief in Dean's voice was palpable. "Sammy, it's Dean, listen..."

Sam paused in his selecting guns from the trunk of the Impala and frowned into the phone, "Dean?"

"Yeah, it's me." There was a long silence. Dean worked up the courage to break it. "You there? Sam?"


Sam dropped the gun in his hand into the duffle on the ground. "Yeah. What?"

"I'm sorry, for everything. I need you to do something for me."

Sam gave a harsh laugh, "Yeah, right. You expect me to buy into that again? You with the 'oh, sorry Sam' every time you decide to stand me up? Or this time, skip town and end it without even fucking telling me!? What do you want Dean? I have things I need to do here."

Dean wiped his hand across the table, sending the hotel books and materials to the ground. "I want you to stay right where you are. Don't move. Don't go. Just do this one thing for me."

Sam huffed, "And I just wanted you to be there when I asked you to be. But you never were. You were only there when the 'little mouse' was fun to play with. When it suited you. When you had nothing better to do. But then, just like everyone said you would, you got bored and you left." he sighed, "And you know what's saddest of all? I wouldn't listen. I even fancied us in love. But, guess that was just stupid of me. Look, I get it. I chased you and it was exciting for you and now you're bored. Fine. I know how poor Stacy feels now," he shook his head, "I just hope I wasn't as much of an ass to her as you were to me. Look, I gotta go, I'm meeting someone."

"Wait... for fuck's sake Sam, you know it's not like that... you know it isn't." But wasnt that exactly what he'd wanted Sam to think when he'd set things in motion? Fear gripped him. "Even if you believe all that, you gotta know I'd never want you dead. Sam, you go to the res, and you're dead. Alice saw it... Sam you can't do this, please. Wait for your father... please."

Sam growled in anger into the phone, "Goddammit, Dean I am not the fucking inept hunter you think I am! Leave me the fuck alone! You lost the privelage of getting a damn thing from me the day you walked away and didn't even have the guts to say goodbye! I'm not your fucking bitch anymore, Dean, so fuck off!" Sam slammed the cell closed and tossed it into the open window of the Impala.

"Sam! Holy fuck, Sam." Dean started to redial, but he knew Sam too well. He'd know how to push his buttons, how to break him... and he knew that nothing would stop him now. Dammit, there was a sunny day prediction, no one in his family could stop Sam today, they'd be holed up. Fuck, fuck, fuck...

Sam stepped back to the trunk, wiping away angry tears from his eyes.

Sure, he'd agreed to go to the Res and meet with Trevor because he'd said he could find Dean, but as Sam got ready, cleaned his guns and really thought about it. Running after Dean was no better than Stacy annoying him at school, Dean had made his decision. He needed to just let it go. Not that he would tell Trevor that... this was a perfect way to take care of the towns little werewolf problem. Catch Trevor Wells when he wasn't expecting it.

* * *

Even for a Cullen, Dean was driving fast and reckless. They didn't like to wreck their cars, and knowing they'd walk away from an accident didn't change that.

"Is it one or more of them? Why the fuck... This Trevor wantd him, why does he kill him? Alice?!"

"Dean, I've been trying to see more, but I can't." She sat down on Dean's chaise longue in his room. "Sam has a gun to his head. The wolf is on his knees, he's shifted... scary but he shifts back to beg or something."

"That's impossible. Has to be a trick. How does one guy, human, have a wolf on its knees?" Even as he rejected the notion, Sam's words reverberated in his head. I'm not the fucking inept hunter you think I am. "Sonovabitch!" Dean exploded.

"What?"

"He's out there hunting him, that's what Sam's doing. Fuck."

"Then a girl come out, she's crying and ... Sam puts the gun down and just walks away. Then he's on the ground, there's so much blood." Alice turned around as Carlisle walked in. "what?"

"We're going after him, all of us. Downstairs, now."

"Dean, where are you? We're going to go help him," she needlessly said into the phone.

"Almost in town. Alice..."

"I know, Dean." She hung up and raced out of the room.

* * *

One blood covered hand slowly slid along the sand, Sam grit his teeth in pain at the small movement. This wasn't suppose to happen. Kim had asked, begged him not to kill her brother, and he hadn't... he'd walked away....

The next thing he knew was the feel of being tackled, the wind rushing out of is lungs as his body contacted hard with the earth, face in the dirt. And then there was the clawing.

Sam had felt the first scratch dig across his back and had growled in pain, arching back, rolling over. But that was when Trevor had really started in. Sam couldn't remember much of what he did, just the pain as skin was torn, ripped open, muscle tearing underneath. He remembered screaming in pain at first and then slowly, blessedly, he'd started to feel numb.

He couldn't move, just his hands and even then it wasn't huge movements, but the small amount hurt like a bitch. He remembered when Trevor took hold of his leg, shaking it like a dog would, dislocating bones and tearing more flesh. His jeans were torn, his shirt all but gone, hung in blood soaked tatters in the sand around him.

He lay there now, the wolf pacing around him, watching him, toying with him.

Sam's head rolled as he looked over at him, "Fff-," blood ran from Sam's mouth, "Finish...it!" he told him.

He watched as Trevor walked up onto him, standing on his chest, growling, snarling, baring his teeth, saliva dripping.


"Just...do....do it." Sam ground out.

(A/N: If you need something light and fun after this, look for our completed two chapter Valentines fic (Be My Valentine) which we will post altogether on Saturday. We'll be back to this one Sunday or more likely Monday. If you feel like killing anyone, choose Fetish *nods*)