Possession

Carlisle had Sam test his strength on almost unbendable metals and put his hand out against Sam's palms, asking him to push. There was definitely a great loss of strength from over five years of bleeding him and keeping him weak. "You're improving. I think you'll be at your full strength in a matter of weeks. Let me check if your skin is thickening," he said looking into Sam's eyes for permission.

Sam's eyes followed every move that Carlisle made. He hated these examinations. He understood the need and that it was because Carlisle wanted to be sure he was getting back to his old self after everything he had been through, but he still hated them.

Sam blew out a breath slowly, as he rubbed the palms of his hands down his jean clad thighs, his face set in hard lines. Sitting there on his settee, in his own room helped, but... just the sight of a scalpel had him wound up. Slowly, Sam nodded, before he turned his head away, offering Carlisle his arm to cut as he grit his teeth, reminding himself over and over again that it was his father doing it, not some madman.

Putting a reassuring hand on his son's shoulder, Carlisle slid it down to lift up his arm. He made only a small cut, and did it quickly. "I think your skin is starting to harden but it's going to take longer than regaining your strength." It didn't worry him because Sam still healed instantly. In fact, he healed faster than most vampires. By the time he wiped the blood away, there was no sign of the cut. Tossing the scalpel on his tray, he sat down. "How is everything. I hear that Winchester boy is giving you trouble."

The corner of Sam's lips curved upward as he rolled the sleeve of his shirt back down. "Which one told you?" he asked softly, before looking over to meet Carlisle's eyes.

He shrugged slightly, licked his lips. "Things are... different now than they were before. Before I was drawn to him, and then there was the promise I made to his mother... but now..." Sam hung his head, "there are other feelings there," he looked back up, shook his head, "and I don't know how to deal with them."

"Hmm." Carlisle sighed. He'd heard of Dean Winchester's reputation, and knew his line of business. This was definitely a powder keg ready to blow up. "All you can do is take it a day at a time and don't ... I know you want to trust him, but you have to be careful. Even if he realizes you're not human now, you don't know what his reaction will be to learning you're a vampire." He sat back and looked at the pictures on the wall. "Unless he already knows?"

Sam followed his father's gaze, staring at the pictures too for a moment before hanging his head. "His mother knew." he told him softly.

"His mother is dead and we're not dealing with her." He was silent for a moment. "So is his father. If Dean disappeared... no one would miss him." At least that was a plus, if his son fell down this extremely slippery slope. He'd held on for so long, but with the torture he'd gone through, the toll it had taken on him, he wasn't the gentle vampire he'd been before. Like himself, Sam had been able to resist the smell of human blood before. Now, things changed.

Sam sighed as he sat forward, elbows on his knees. "One thing I know he doesn't know is how I feel about him. I think that's one of the biggest problems right now. I try to do... what I'm suppose to... and I end up doing," he shook his head, "something totally different." He thought about Gink's. "I threatened some girl the other day... it was dark, only she saw. No one will believe her, but... I did it," he looked back at his father, "because Dean was kissing her."

"Jealousy is a strong emotion. It can make you do things you'd never contemplate." He patted Sam again. "If you told him, do you think he'd be ... receptive." Carlisle knew full well that Dean was straight, but sometimes a vampire's pull of attraction was strong enough to make humans cross lines they never might.

Sam shook his head, jaw clenched. "I think he'd try to kick my ass."

Carlisle smiled. "Maybe you're not giving yourself enough credit. But you might not be ready, you'll know when and if it's time." He hated seeing Sam like this. He remembered how quickly smiles came to his lips and the days when he was the most laid back of all of them. Now he had nightmares, mood swings, and to have to fight his feelings as well... that was a tremendous amount to ask of person. "I don't want you to leave, but if it would make things easier for you..."

Sam looked at his father, at first the thought made his chest ache, thinking Carlisle wanted him gone, then the realization hit him that his father was again trying to care for him as best he could and his chest ached for an entirely different reason. He shook his head, his voice thick with emotion, "I don't have anywhere else to go."

Looking away, Sam cleared his throat, "And I made a promise," he added, his voice stronger. He looked back at his father and nodded, "I can do this. I can continue to watch over him, protect him, keep him safe. I just have to not... feel. I can do that. I did it for five years. I can do it again."

Carlisle shook his head. "Sam, for five years, you were kept drained of blood, tortured and weak. I don't think you could have concentrated on anything other than your own pain, even if you'd tried. It's like.... if your arm is broken, suddenly you don't feel that itch on your back." That was his theory, anyway. But there was so much Carlisle didn’t know.

He had no idea how Sam bleeding on a very young Winchester so many years ago had formed that bond between Sam and the boy in the first place, but there were many mysteries in the lives of vampires. "Maybe like me... how I got used to the scent of blood and was able to stay in the medical profession, you'll get used to dealing with his feelings as well as yours." He knew Sam had to concentrate to feel Dean, but the ability to force your mind away from something that was addicting was not easy.

Sam didn't argue as his father pointed out the difference between those five years and now, he tried to offer Carlisle a reassuring half smile. "Maybe."

* * *

It was almost 3 a.m. Dean had easily broken into the mortuary and was now walking past some empty caskets, flashing his light as he headed to the basement where the embalming took place. The scent of the place had him cursing as he walked down the creaking stairs, waiting to make sure no one was around. One good thing about small towns... they hardly had any security.

Pushing the door open, he saw the old woman's body lying stiff as a board on the table. He'd read the obits and had known she'd be here. Dropping his bag down, he rummaged through it for a jar and a syringe.


Sam had left his house a few minutes after 2AM and had gone to Dean's only to find the Impala gone. After opening his mind up to Dean and focusing on his scent he had eventually found him here, in this mortuary. He’s stayed out of sight in the shadows and just watched him, his brows drawn in confusion as to what in the world Dean could be doing. Since when had Dean started defacing the dead?

Stepping out of the shadows he leaned a shoulder against the wall, arms crossed over his chest as he crossed his long legs as the ankles and tilted his head to the side. "What in the name of all that is holy are you doing?"

Almost dropping the jar, Dean turned on a dime, his mind quickly working out a plausible story until he saw who was standing there. "Well if it isn't my own personal stalker. Good thing you can't scare away the dead." Promptly ignoring Sam, he turned to the cadaver and started to withdraw some blood from its body.

Sam huffed and pulled from the wall, walking over to where Dean was. Peering over Dean's shoulder, Sam made a face. "Since when were you into the blood of dead people?" he asked him, quirking a brow. "This must be a new addiction acquired while I was away."

"Since when do you think you know all my addictions? What do you want? What made up rule of yours am I violating now?" He slid a look toward the taller student. He was still mad at him over the whole Emily thing, but he could deal with him if there were no repeats. He kept reminding himself Sam had been locked up and maybe... maybe he had some weird issues still from that.

Sam shrugged, "No rules. I was just thinking about you, wanted to check on you." He nodded toward the body, "you never answered what you were doing... or should I say why you are doing it."


He didn't think twice about telling Sam the truth. Clearly the guy was already a part of the supernatural world. Dean had narrowed down what Sam might be to maybe 12 things he'd ever dealt with or heard about and vampire was on the list, but he'd dealt with too many to think Sam was one. For one thing, he never saw him blink to shut out light, even strong lights at school. His eyes weren't sensitive to light. For another, vampires couldn't change their eye color. "Dead man's blood. It paralyzes vampires."


Sam's eyes widened slightly at the remark before his lips curled up into a full blown smile and a snicker crossed his lips. He shook his head, "No it doesn't. Where did you ever hear a stupid thing like that?"

"What? Now you're a vampire expert? I'd stick to physics, if I were you," Dean snorted, emptying the syringe into the jar and stabbing the needle back into the cadaver.

Sam pressed his lips together, frowning, "I've... known," he coughed slightly, "a few vampires in my day, yeah and dude, that's not going to do anything." Sam told him shaking his head.

He watched Dean work, making slow progress and sighed, "You realize that's going to take you like, forever. Right?" he asked him, shifting his weight and crossing his arms over his chest.

"You realize I'm not here to entertain you, right?" Emptying the syringe, he started to draw blood again even though he didn't need a jarful. Just enough to coat the tips of some darts and knives. "You should go home, it has to be way past your bed time."


Sam quirked a brow, the corner of his mouth lifting up into an almost smirk. "Insomniac. You're in luck," he teased him, knowing Dean was probably getting pissed at his being there. He couldn't exactly explain it, couldn't put his finger on how it changed, and he certainly wasn't sure it would last, but for the time being Dean was making him feel a little more grounded, more like his old self. "So, I take it you're going on a hunt? Tonight?" Sam asked him, tilting his head to the side.

"Yeah, I got tired of sitting around and filing my nails." He was tired of fucking homework too. Thank God it was Friday. Putting the syringe away, he screwed the jar shut and looked around to make sure he left nothing around. "She's all yours, if you're into that kind of thing."

This time it was Dean's turn to grin as he walked past Sam and headed up the stairs. If the guy hadn't shown up around him all his life, the way he sneaked up on him now would be freaking him out. Well it was ... but only a little.

Sam frowned at the body in confusion at Dean’s last remark, before turning and following him out, slipping into the shadows as they reached the top of the stairs. He continued with vampire speed to Dean's car, leaning against the side, waiting for him there, having reached it long before Dean did, arms once again crossed over his chest, legs crossed at the ankles.

He watched Dean walk up and a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "What kept you? You're awfully slow."

Sucking in his breath, Dean tried his best to hide his surprise. Nothing should surprise him anymore, but Sam did... all the time. "I was carrying shit," he raised his bag, then dropped it next to his car. Opening the trunk, he brought out the weapons he'd prepared, putting them on the now closed trunk. His gaze flicked to Sam. "Somebody up your meds? You're in a good mood for once."

Sam quirked a brow, "Am I?" he huffed softly, "Must be the company I keep." He turned toward Dean leaning his side against the car. "So, how are we going to do this? This little Vampire hunt?"

"WE? There's no 'we' Sam. You're going home, and I'm doing this alone, the way I always..." he stumbled over that, suddenly missing his dad more than ever. He cleared his throat, "... it's a hunter thing."

Sam tilted his head as he studied the look on Dean's face, his own dropping in response. "They were always proud of you, you know." Sam said softly, before clearing his throat and pulling to his full height, arms falling to his sides. "I am going with you." he told Dean as he walked toward him, stepping close, but not too close before glancing toward the trunk, "because you are SO going to need me," he nodded at the trunk, "nothing you have there is going to even dent a vampire." He looked back at Dean, golden hazel meeting green, "but I can, will, for you."

Dean shook his head. "You want to tell me why it is one minute you're trying to make my life miserable, and the next you go all mother hen? Your mood swings are killing me." Closing the jar again, he opened the trunk one last time, tossing everything he didn't need inside and taking the necessities in his bag. Rubbing his eyes, he faced Sam and waited on his answer.

Sam shook his head, "Not trying to make your life miserable, Dean. I've never tried to do that." He hung his head for a moment as he thought back to before he was taken, to the way he used to be. "I wasn't always... moody," he told him softly before looking up, "I guess you're gonna just have to forgive me for that. I have a lot weighing on me nowadays."

Giving a noncommittal grunt, Dean walked around to the driver's side. "See you Monday. Opening the back door, he tossed his bag in, then got into the car and started it.

Sam sighed and turned, watching as Dean got into his car, starting it. Stubborn ass.

Reaching low, Sam grabbed the bumper of the Impala with one hand, lifting the end of the car up and off the ground.

As the wheels spun, Dean shouted, "What the fuck. Dammit." Shutting the car off, he waited until Sam set it down, then he walked out and got in his face. "You broke my window, I boarded it up. You wreck my car? I will fucking kill you. You got that?" He meant it too, it was really the one thing he had from his dad. That and the leather jacket he was wearing. "I am not kidding, Sam." He was furious. More than furious.

Sam shook his head just slightly, "You can't kill me. And I didn't...." he paused, wanted to be able to deny the other accusation, but unable to lie, so he ignored it instead, "wreck your car."

He took a step closer to Dean, they were toe to toe, only a hair between them, "Let me buy you a new one. I'll replace your window. Hell, I'll buy you a fucking house if you want it."

Dean gritted his teeth. "My dad gave me that car. There is nothing... nothing that can replace it, not one of your fancy cars, nothing." And why the hell was he offering to buy him stuff? "Sorry my house isn't good enough... maybe if you stayed out of it," he spread his hands. "Not everything is about money. Now leave me the hell alone? I have work to do, and other people to save." He was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling. How could this guy push all his buttons and get him angry in three seconds flat?

Sam stood there listening to Dean yell at him, his mood was darkening but there was something else, something he wasn't sure what to call it that lurked under it all as his eyes narrowed and his hand snaked out, quicker than any human could have reacted to, and grabbed the front of Dean's jacket, yanking him forward until his lips met Sam's.

It was just a meeting of lips, nothing more, but it sent heat, electricity though Sam, that had him shoving Dean away for his own safety after only a few seconds. The feel of those soft full lips under his was more than he had counted on, better than he had imagined.

Sam stood sucking in air as though he were a human who had just run a race. He closed his eyes. His teeth ached, his eyes had darkened, the blood was pounding at his temples. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..." he shook his head, slowly opening his eyes to look at Dean. "I know. I didn't mean anything hurtful, I just --" he shook his head, licked his lips, still tasting Dean there and stifled a moan. FUCK!

"Ahhh..." Dean had his hand over his burning mouth, not quite wiping, but stunned. He blinked, struggling to find answers, trying to get all of the conflicting emotions battling inside him under control. He licked his lips and let his air out. "You saw Get Smart," he nodded, lips pressed together as he convinced himself. "He used this... this technique as a way of shutting someone up, stunning him. Okay... okay, it worked." He backed up to the open door. "I... just don't grab my car, alright? It’s my baby." He let out a heavy breath.

Sam's jaw clenched, nostrils flaring as he looked at Dean, watched him. "What is a 'Get smart'?" Sam asked him, "I don't watch much TV." He took a step closer to where Dean had scurried back to and held a hand out for a second before letting it drop. "Let me..." he sighed, "let me help you with this, so... so I don't worry. I promise not to ever do that again... please."

"I don't have a choice, do I?" Instinctively, he knew Sam would grab the car again, or follow him, or do whatever it took. "Get in." He closed his eyes for a second, "and try not to confuse me anymore. This sucks hardcore, man." Dropping into the driver's seat, he told himself he wasn't going to think about it anymore, the kiss. Later he'd try to work out what happened. Yeah, he'd always had certain thoughts and feeling about Sam, but not really 'about Sam'. It had been about that look in his eyes all those years ago, hadn't it? Pulling the door shut and started the car.

Sam sat in the passenger seat, feeling more self-conscious than he ever had in his life. He'd never been in the passenger seat of any car, well, okay Alice's once, around the block, before he had made her switch and let him drive. He had just kissed a straight guy, one that obviously had NO feelings for him AT ALL. And he wasn't even sure why or where they were going.

Smooth thinkin', Sam. Yeah, Emmett would be having a field day with this about now. Clearing his throat, Sam looked over at Dean, trying to keep as far away from him and close to the door as possible, "So, uh, why exactly is it you're going to try to kill these vampire's?"

There was a short silence as Dean continued to struggle with conflicting feelings. He licked his lips and looked over at Sam, trying to find answers in his eyes... but there were none. None that he could see, and he couldn't even formulate the questions. "It's always the same reason. They hurt or kill people. Someone has to help the victims the cops don't know about." Turning onto the highway, he stepped on the gas pedal, ignoring the way Sam tensed at his driving. Why should only one of them be tense?

Listening to Dean's reasoning Sam tensed as he wondered if Dean felt that way about all vampire's or if he had proof that these were a bad bunch. "So, you know that these vampires are, uh, hurting people?" Sam asked him cautiously, glancing from Dean out the window and back. He shrugged, "I mean, because, if not, then, just because they're vampires, it doesn't mean... I mean, not everything non-human is 'bad'."

"You're right. Some non-humans are just damned annoying." It was probably bad form to laugh at your own joke, but it relieved some of his stress. "Don't tell me you're a card carrying member of some 'save the vampires' group. They're evil." He concentrated on the road for a moment, making sure to turn off onto an unmarked dirt road, looking out the window until he saw the barn in a distance. He cut the lights and hoped to hell the vamps were sleeping, it was close to dawn anyway. "People are missing. Bodies are turning up without a drop of blood. You do the math."

Dean's words about vampire's being evil, had Sam turning his head away and looking out the side window, jaw clenched. He had a lot to think about later. Maybe Carlisle was right. Maybe he needed to go somewhere else. Away from his family to keep them safe, if that was how Dean felt about all vampires.

Sam's head was spinning with thoughts, trying to figure out what to do next, how to keep his family safe and still do what he had promised Dean's mother when Dean spoke again.

Lips still pressed together in a firm line as he gave a curt nod, then turned his gaze away again. He had nothing else to say, nothing he wanted to say. Not anymore. He'd do this, help Dean make it out okay, and then he needed to think... away from Dean distracting him.

Clearing his throat and frowning slightly, Sam looked back at Dean, "So, what's your plan? Just barge on in there and start massacring vampire families?" he looked away, reached for his door handle and opened it, sliding from the seat and closing the door after himself. Whatever. He couldn't sit in there with him anymore.

"Shshsh, sharp hearing." Grabbing his bag, he went around to Sam's side. "You're not going in there. I can't be worrying about you and fighting them. If they don't realize you're with me, they probably won't bother with you." He gave the non-human a pointed look.

Sam quirked a brow at Dean, "Sharp hearing, huh?" he nodded, "what else?" he pretended like he didn't know as he inched along beside Dean.

"Strong. Real strong. And the teeth thing... you know?" he gave a half shrug.

Sam shook his head, "Teeth? Really? Like, are they sharp and pointy?" Sam barely hid his smirk.

"Well yeah... vampire." Giving Sam a 'what the fuck do you think' look, Dean started to head toward the barn. He wasn't even a little surprised when Sam didn't stay put. "Nails are as strong as... nails. Tricky too. Oh, really good sense of smell. Oh man, if any of them are awake, they're smelling cookies by now."

Sam smirked and shook his head, "They're not smelling me, but they'd smell you, and they'd hear that loud ass car of yours from three miles back," he chuckled, "I can usually hear it from over five."

Dean looked up at the lightening sky. "They sleep before dawn. Damn, I should have brought mirrors. Alright, here..." he got a machete for Sam, and a smaller dagger. "That one will paralyze. With this, head off. It's the only way. Stay behind me if you can." If there were any way he could have talked Sam out of it, he would have. But he knew it was useless.

Sam glanced up at the sky as Dean did, noting the sunlight that was threatening to break through the clouds. SHIT. A sunny day in the Forks area. Of course it would be today, when he had things he was doing outside, out in the open... with Dean.


Tearing his gaze from the lightening sky to look at Dean, Sam took the weapons he handed him. Not because he needed them, but Dean obviously wasn't getting the hints that he could handle this, so Sam decided to play along, make Dean happy for now. After all, if he said too much, he might just find himself on Dean's hunted list.


Quietly, Dean pulled the barn door open, his heart racing as his adrenalin kicked in. Once inside, he held the machete in one hand and a tube to blow the poisoned darts in another. Slowly he made his way around a wooden post, and saw a girl chained to it. Her throat had been ripped pretty good and she was half dead already. His nostrils flared, and he looked over at Sam. What if he'd been here a half hour earlier, or an hour... could he have saved her?

Entering the barn, Sam didn't even need to look very hard to know where the vampires were. But, there was something different about them, what exactly, he couldn't put his finger on. The smell of the girl's blood drew Sam's attention away from any further thought as he turned his head away, much like a person would who was about to get sick, as his eyes darkened again, his teeth starting to ache once more.

As they moved in farther, Dean pointed out tangled limbs on a haystack, and then another set on a mattress on the ground. He looked up and saw a ladder, pointing that out too, in case anything decided to jump down from there. Moving to the animal stalls, he pushed a door open and made a face. The entire ground was blood stained, and bodies were strewn around like rag dolls. These were some bad ass vamps, and he was going to end them here and now. Preparing for the fight, he started to head back.

Jaw set in a firm line at the carnage they had seen, Sam went to the closest vampire and dropped the weapons Dean had given him onto the ground, grabbing the vampire's arm, he pulled him up to his feet, shaking him awake. "You aren't supposed to hurt humans. What is wrong with you!?"

"What the fuck, Sam!" Rushing toward the idiot, Dean put the tube to his mouth and aimed the dart at the vampire who'd been laying next to the one Sam dragged to its feet.

All signs of sleep cleared from Stephen's blood shot eyes. "We've got company," he announced, almost gleefully, frowning at Sam, but turning to look at Dean. The other vampires started to stir.

Sam's eyes darkened as he bared his fangs, "Touch him and you die." he hissed, before glancing over his shoulder toward the girl’s body still hanging, "Why?" he asked him as he looked back.

"Because we can, and it's fun. Join us, he smells good... if he tastes half as good," Stephen bared his own fangs. "Now!"

Dean loudly cursed Sam for taking away the element of surprise. What the hell did he think he was doing lecturing vamps. The invitation... that sent a chill down his back, but he had no time to think on it. Aiming his darts, he started to nail as many of them as he could.

Sam growled low and loud, as he released the vampire’s shirt, then moved with blurring speed, grabbing his head in both hands and twisted hard. The vampire's head head came off his shoulders in Sam's hands, as the body dropped to the floor. "He's too good for you." Sam muttered, dropping the head, before crouching in an attack position, teeth bared, a feral growl escaping him, eyes inky black as he stepped back slightly to stand in between Dean and the other vampire's.

Seeing the bloody mess, Dean stepped away from the spurting blood. "Now that's gonna be some big laundry bill," he said, trying to cover his surprise. Damn... not even his dad had ever torn a head off like that. "Guess that means you're out of the 'save the vamps' club now." Shoving Sam and moving past him, he launched himself at the vampires. There were four of them, two of them paralyzed by the dead man's blood. He tried shooting a dart at a third, but the vampire was too quick and they were in hand to hand combat.

"Sonova..." Dean kicked the center of its body with the flat of his foot, "bitch." Blows were exchanged, and he was just waiting for the moment when he could trap the guy in a headlock, using the machete.

One of the women vampires had moved down the ladder and was trying to make soothing sounds to Sam, as she walked toward him, a smile stretched across her blood stained lips. Sam waited until she was close enough, then reached out and twisted her arm behind her back. "You should have followed someone else," he hissed out as he continued the pressure until the bone popped and snapped. He went for her head then, tearing it from her shoulders in the same manor he had the first, glancing toward Dean after he had finished to be sure he was still alright.

They were done much faster than Dean anticipated... much faster. The permanently dead vampires lay on the ground now, headless. Breathing hard, Dean wiped his bloody hands on his jeans and stole a glance at Sam. He knew the guy had held back. What was he? He licked his lips, the question dying on his lips as he went to check the chained girl.

Her eyes were open now, a smile played on her lips as she thanked him. "She's... Sam, call 911," he said, forgetting everything as he leaned over to pick the lock on the chains that held her.

Frowning, Sam started over toward Dean. The girl was alive? There was no way.... As Sam drew closer, his eyes widened, as her scent hit him like a kick to stomach. "Dean! No!"

"Hmm?" The chain rattled to the ground and just as he turned, the girl he'd 'saved' bared her fangs and attacked him. He felt something tear into his side... her nails? Cursing, he backhanded her. If he'd expected she would fall, he was mistaken. She was back on him and he'd set his weapons down. Grabbing her hair, he raised his knee and brought her head down on it hard. A human would have blacked out, but she wasn't human.

With a growl, Sam ran toward them, colliding with the girl hard, so hard that they both went through the side of the barn, landing outside in the dry grass. Rolling as teeth and nails sliced and then Sam had her head off in one quick movement and it was over.

Picking himself up from the ground, Sam turned around, going back to check on Dean, berating himself the entire way. He should have been more careful, he should have warned him, should have known, and should have done something sooner...

Dean had seen enough to know Sam could handle the girl. No, he'd seen enough to know that Sam was dangerous. Dangerous like himself, if you were playing on the wrong side. Sam was also a bit naive, trying to lecture to vampires of all things. And he was... Dean let out a soft sigh as he acknowledged the thought... Sam was very vampire-like.

By the time Sam returned, Dean was pouring gasoline around. Ordinarily he would bury the bodies but there were too many. The barn was isolated, and there was no brush or plant life around it so there was no fear of spreading fire. This was the best solution.

Sam glanced at Dean from the door, saw the crimson stain on his shirt and grimaced, "Are you... alright?" he sighed, "I should have known. Said something... sooner. I'm sorry."

"Sorry about what? You fucking nuts? How are you supposed to tell if I couldn't." Walking backwards toward Sam, he said, "Stand back" and striking a match, he tossed it into the middle of the barn. Outside, he saw that the last body was close enough to be burned with the rest without having to toss it inside.

They headed to the Impala at a dead run, and got inside. Dean was grinning as he made a u-turn and roared away. "Now tell me that doesn't feel good," he looked over at Sam who was plastered against the door, and frowned. "What?"

As soon as they had gotten in the small confines of the car, Dean's scent, the scent of his blood had hit Sam so strong he thought he was going to totally lose it and just take. Take and take. Oh god...

He smashed himself as far away from Dean as he possibly could up against the door, his eyes an inky black, his teeth aching, blood pounding in his temples so strong he could hardly hear, think of anything else. Just the scent of that blood and the thought of possessing, of leaning over and plastering Dean against his door and taking what he wanted.

Sam turned his head, facing away from Dean, "Nothing." he told him softly, trying his hardest not to breathe.

"What nothing, it's something. Sam?" Getting no answer, Dean's jaw tightened. There he went again, with his weird moods. He tried once or twice to engage him in conversation, then gave up and turned his music on loud. The way he was acting, Sam better not fucking complain.

The trip back was way more awkward than the trip to the barn. It should have been the reverse, so Dean couldn't wrap his mind around this. Slamming his brakes on when they were at the mortuary, and next to Sam's car, he didn't say a thing, didn't even look at Sam.

Sam quickly opened his door, nearly falling out of it, then closed it behind him, not uttering a word as he hurried to his own car, the new key lock beeping as he neared it.

He was inside in seconds and breathing a sigh of relief. He needed to feed, that's what he needed to do. Once he did that, he could go to Dean's and make sure he was okay.

Starting the car and throwing it into gear, Sam's tires spun as he took off out of there at breakneck speed.

"Sonova..." Dean didn't know what to make of Sam, and he hated that. Taking off after Sam's car, he turned toward his part of town. By the time he got inside his house and was upstairs, it was full on morning. He'd almost gotten away with no injuries. Almost. Peeling his jacket, long sleeved shirt, and his tee shirt off in turn, he walked to the bathroom to look at the damage to his side. Dammit, he'd need to stitch himself up.

Washing up first, he got the surgical thread and went to sit on his bed. Gritting his teeth, he forced the needle through his skin and pulled the thread through. Taking a breath, he repeated, again and again, his stitches quite small and neat.

Sam reached Dean's house a few moments after he had finished feeding, feeling much more like himself. Leaping up to the window of Dean's room, Sam frowned at the boards covering the window before he began knocking them down with the heel of his hand.

Once they were all down, he looked over at where Dean was glaring at him. "I can't protect you, if I can't see you." Frowning, he tilted his head to the side before gracefully jumping inside, "What are you doing?"

"Needlework. What the fuck you think I'm doing? And Sam... that is not my door, dammit."

He ignored the door comment, eyes focused on the wound on Dean's side as he walked toward him, "Okay, why are you doing it?" he asked him instead.

"For someone who's smart you're acting like a dingbat. I'm cut. It's deep." Gritting his teeth, he passed the needle through his skin again cursing softly under his breath. The closer he got to his ribs, the more it hurt.


Sam's hands clenched into fists at his sides, his jaw clenched as he watched. "Stop it! Just stop it already! You're hurting yourself!" he all but yelled at him, before moving quickly to shove Dean back onto the bed, grabbing the knife off the nightstand as he did.

Sam straddled Dean's hips and brought the knife across his own wrist, pausing only for the span of a blink before slicing deep. He grabbed Dean's wrists, holding them with one hand above Dean's head as he squirmed. Sam brought his bleeding wrist to Dean's side, letting his blood run down onto and into Dean's wound.

"That's just... what the fuck?! Sam?!" Thinking Sam had gone nuts, which wasn't a stretch when he thought about what he'd been through under the scalpel of those lunatic doctors, Dean panicked and started kicking and trying to free himself.

Sam's head turned as he glared back at Dean, "Would you hold still!? You made it a lot easier to do this when you were little!" he looked back at what he was doing, making sure he bled enough to cover the entire wound before his own wound healed away completely.

He moved then, pulling off Dean and leaning over him, "Just hold still... and wait." he told him, as he slowly released his wrists.


"Damn you," Dean jackknifed off the bed, bending to pick up the revolver under it. Chest heaving, he aimed it at Sam, hand shaking only slightly. "I know you've got problems. Go get help. Go."

Sam's eyes moved from Dean's face to his side and the corner of his mouth turned up slightly, "I have problems, but you don't," he told him, nodding toward his side.

Following Sam's gaze, Dean looked down. Under smeared blood, there was no sign of a wound. None. The surgical thread had fallen to the ground, as if rejected by his body. Picking up a tee shirt, he wiped over his side, then looked up at Sam, locking gazes with him.

It all came rushing back. Everything had been black. Then he'd opened his eyes and seen the stranger bleeding over him. He'd been too afraid to scream or to say anything. Or maybe he hadn't been afraid, he really couldn't remember what parts were memory and what parts of what happened when he was about six years old he was filling in with fiction.

He opened his mouth and licked his dry lips. "I remember."

Sam quirked a brow as he looked at him, "Do you? Tell me. I re-live it everyday."

He sat down on the bed, and dropped the gun. "I don't understand any of this. What are you? Why are you... why would you save me?"


"Does it really matter what I am?" Sam sighed, as he started to walk away, "Some call me demon, some," he turned back around to face Dean a small sad smile on his face, "call me angel." He shook his head, "it doesn't matter which you think I am." He ran a hand through his hair, "I was drawn to you. Long ago, when you were very little... and then I made a promise... and I will forever keep that promise," he smiled slightly, "I promised to protect you."

"You're not a demon, I checked." He gave Sam a long stare. "You're not an angel either, unless you're fallen," he snorted. "Who did you promise?" He cocked his head, needing answers.

Sam closed his eyes, exhaled slowly and opened them. "I promised..." he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth as he thought about lying, but dismissed it, "your mother."

"Mom?" Dean whispered so low that you'd have to have superhuman hearing. "Did you know her?" Seeing Sam shaking his head 'no,' his fingers clenched around the blanket. "Then why? Why would she even trust you?" His parents were hunters. His grandparents were hunters. He didn't see them easily accepting someone who wasn't human. "Don't lie to me," he warned. "I want... I need to know."

Sam licked his lips, "I have never lied to you." he told him softly, before running his hand through his hair again, looking downward, "Your mother told me something about a psychic," he glanced up at Dean, looking for the truth of that in his face, but seeing no answers, he dropped his gaze and continued, "She said she was told that I would save you, that you would be alone. She knew she would die, that your father would die..." he looked up, "that you would be alone."


"Missouri..." Or it could be some other psychic. He felt a lump rise in his throat. "Why didn't you save her? Why me and not her?" Things could have been so different. They'd been happy, so happy in Kansas. "She was in pain. You were there. I remember that too," he said, accusation creeping into his tone.

Sam nodded, "I was there. I held her hand as she took her last breath." he looked at Dean and shook his head, "I'm sorry. I tried, but... it didn't work."

"You just healed me, with your blood. Then, and now. Those people who had you, they were taking your blood for its healing properties. What do you mean you couldn't save her?!" Dean stood up and paced away. It wasn't fair. He didn't deserve life more than his mother. Sam could have saved her... he could have.

"Dean...sometimes it just doesn't work. I'm sorry. I tried I did everything I could, I swear it." Before he’d turned into a vampire, he’d healed disease just by touch. But as a vampire, it was his blood that seemed to have healing powers, and it worked on wounds.

Dean nodded his head, his throat felt raw and he couldn't ask anything else about his mother or he was risking breaking down and crying. He wasn't six anymore, and there was no way he wanted Sam or anyone else to see that. He nodded again, trying to believe, to understand, to process. He tried to calm down, to not get more agitated, to not think of what might have been.

Striding back to the bed, Dean started going through his dad's journal. Back and forth, he flipped the pages fast, his motions jerky.

Sam frowned as he watched Dean flipping through an old journal suddenly. And he said he was moody. One minute they had been talking about his mother and now he was angrily going to read? "What are you doing!?" Sam jutted his chin toward the journal in Dean's hands, "What is that?"


"I'm trying to find out what moves faster than a vampire. Strong. Sharp hearing. And has blood that heals. I want to know what you are, and if you won't tell me, I'll find out. I will." He didn't even look up from the book.

The frown slowly slid from Sam's face as he sighed and stepped over to Dean, grabbing the journal in his hands, but not taking it, only stopping him from looking further. "You won't find it in there," he shrugged, "well, if you did, you wouldn't realize it." he released the journal and took a step back. "Sit?" Sam nodded toward the bed as he stepped away and started to pace.

"My father and I were just talking about you finding this out." the corner of Sam’s mouth lifted in a wry smile as he stopped pacing, "funny how parents always seem to be right, no matter how old you get." He started to pace again.

Dean's eyes tracked Sam back and forth. This was it, he was gonna know the truth.

"Those things that we killed tonight," he paused, looking toward the floor, head hanging as he frowned thoughtfully. "I've never known anything like them. They acted like vampires, but," he stopped pacing, looking directly at Dean, "When I tore their heads off, when I fought them, I held back and it was as though they were made of tissue paper."

"Tissue paper." He wished Sam would just spit it out. This was killing him.

"But the things they said to me, what they had done... it was all very vampire-like." he frowned harder, shook his head. "What I want to know is what they were." Sam paused, lips pressed together. "And my blood is special," he shook his head, "it's not like any others of my kind."

"They were vampire-like because they're vampires, I know that... I told you. Now you tell me something new. Tell me what you are, I think I have a right to know. Goddamit, I do have the right to know." He was getting frustrated again, mostly because of stuff that had been stirred up when they talked about his mother.

Sam huffed, shook his head, "They were like no vampire I know... and I know six of them on a daily basis." he gave Dean a pointed look, waiting.

Dean opened his mouth to argue, snapped it shut, and then opened it again. He got up and approached Sam while he found his voice, looking him over as if he'd never seen him before. "Vampires don't smell like cookies... like you." He walked around Sam, in his mind’s eye thinking of how strong he was... the glimpses of him fighting, of tearing heads off with his bare hands. He stopped in front of him. "Do you have ..." he flashed his own teeth. "Fangs."

Sam quirked a brow, it wasn't exactly the reaction, the question, he had expected. The corner of his mouth lifted in a small smirk. "And I drink blood too," he licked his lips, "Animal blood, not human," he quickly added and shook his head, frowning again, "I don't understand how, why those vampires... in their own town." he huffed and looked back at Dean, "Surely that's not the most burning question you have. The welfare of my teeth."

So there were different types of vampires, that was becoming clear to him even as he stared at Sam's mouth. "Let me see, Sam."

Sam jaw clenched, muscle twitching, eyes darkening just a shade. "You want to see my teeth!? Jesus, Dean! There are a million things I imagined you'd say, do, but not one involved you wanting to look at my fucking fangs! Why? Why the hell do you want to see them?"

"Why don't you want to show them to me?" Dean crossed his arms. "I'm curious. And maybe it would make this... real?"

Sam narrowed his eyes at Dean, arms crossing over his own chest. "Fine." He curled his lip back, bared his teeth, his fangs, his eyes never leaving Dean's face, waiting for the revulsion he knew would be there.

Dean cocked his head. Yup. Perfectly straight teeth framed by slightly longer teeth. Without asking, he slid his index finger into Sam's mouth and felt his fang. "Okay then..." he pulled his finger away. "Vampire," he nodded, then met Sam's eyes again. "Why do you do that? Make your eyes go dark? What does it mean?"

As soon as Dean's finger hit his fangs, Sam's eyes darkened to an inky black and he had to fight not to bite down, to drawn blood and then continue to take, take what he had wanted for so long.

When Dean pulled his finger away, as if what he had done was nothing, like petting some docile stray dog, Sam nearly growled, his hand snaking out to grab Dean's arm in a vise like grip. "Don't ever do that again. Ever." he slowly exhaled and released Dean's arm, "Do you pet sharks too or play with rattlesnakes?" he huffed and shook his head.

Dean looked where Sam had grabbed him, and stepped away slightly.

Sam's mouth opened, then closed at Dean's question, his eyes narrowed. "I don't make my eyes darken, it's a reaction... to 'emotions'."

"Like a freakin' mood ring?" He grinned. "Green means good to go, black means...?" Hungry, needy... something. Dean didn't even need an answer, he knew it in his gut. And why the hell was his own body reacting to that, hardening?

Sam's voice dropped to a deadly whisper, "It means stay the hell away." He clenched his jaw, fought to think about something else, to focus on something other than Dean's bare skin, his scent, the fact that he suddenly was noticing the sound of Dean's blood pumping through his veins.

Sam turned away from him, walking over toward the open window, head bowed as he breathed deeply the fresh air coming in, eyes closed. "Only you... I don't have this problem with others..." Sam slowly lifted his head, opened his eyes, "I was always the 'gentle one', the one who didn't react to the smell, the scent... except yours."

"Except me, what? You didn't... " Dean tensed and thought back through the years. No, he didn't remember Sam ever hurting him, ever taking anything from him. Unless he had the power to trance?

Sam shook his head slowly, "No. I never did. I fought against it... with everything in me I fought. The night... in the desert... I wanted you then, wanted your blood, wanted to take and take," he hung his head, "But then I heard her voice in my head and I ran."

Dean's gut clenched. Desert eyes... they'd haunted him for so fucking long. He took a shuddering breath, glad his eyes weren't a mood ring. "I remember," he nodded, backing away to go sit on the bed. "Guess I should thank you, for not... you know. And before that, for talking to me when my mom died," he forced the word out. "But about that Wendigo you saved me from," his eyes flashed, "that makes us even."

Sam clenched his jaw, Dean shouldn't be thanking him. He should be thanking his mother. If he weren't for her... he had been so close to giving in. He huffed and tilted his head to the side, "Are we? What about all the other times? The times when things were going so wrong, only to suddenly go right... the beast, the creature, whatever, suddenly being maimed, or simply finding it dead." he quirked a brow, "You think you just have that much good luck?"

Dean stiffened. Other times... Yeah, he'd had a lot of close calls, trying to impress his dad who'd grown a lot harder once Mary was gone. Sometimes he'd risked himself in ways even his dad wouldn't have wanted him to, and so many times... they'd both been surprised when he came out of some situation without a scrape. "Guess not," he conceded. "I think I liked you better back then. You were NOT this moody." Not that he'd known ... really known Sam, but he liked getting the last word.

"Yeah... me too." Sam agreed, eyes on Deans face, watching him closely. His eyes had lightened now, closer to his true shade of golden hazel, but he didn't risk leaving the safety of the window. "Guess after five years, even the best... of us, get moody."

"Who me? You've got to be fucking kidding me. I'm not moody." He looked at Sam as if he was on drugs. Then he noticed something and squinted. Was he hallucinating due to lack of sleep?

Sam opened his mouth, ready to tell him that he had actually been talking about himself, but that now that he had bought it up... it wasn't like Dean was Mr. Sunshine all the time. The guy was nearly as moody as he was.

But then his cell rang interrupting his thoughts, what he was going to say. Sam reached into his pocket, pulling it out and flipped it open. "Yeah?" he smiled, a genuine smile, dimples showing, "Hello, Alice." he glanced at Dean, "Yes, I'm aware and yes I am," he sighed, "He knows. No he hasn't seen, not yet." He glanced again at Dean, "Well, he isn't running from the room screaming." Sam nodded to her words even though she couldn't see it. "I will, I'll be home soon. Love you too. Bye." Sam flipped his cell closed and stuffed it back into his pocket, his eyes on Dean. "Sorry, worried older sister."

"Ah... Sam, turn around... just a little." He looked at the broken window, and back at Sam standing close to where the sunlight was streaming in. A sunny day in Forks... and here he was ready to sleep it away.

Sam stiffened as he looked at Dean, followed his gaze to the sun beam shining on his arm, the glittering skin there, where he had pushed his long sleeve shirt up, where it was folded back and his forearm showed. Shit. Sam looked back at Dean, took a side step away from the window, out of the sun, jaw clenched, body ridged.

"No, the other way. Toward the window, move to it. And what haven't I seen? You got a tail or something?" he joked, but his eyes were laser focused on Sam, willing him to get into the sunlight.

Sam looked toward the window with something akin to fear in his eyes before looking back at Dean, "No. Something worse," he shook his head, "I don't want you to see. Not now, not yet. I..." Sam paused, licked his lips, glancing back toward the window, the beam of sunlight. He shouldn't have come back here after feeding, he should have gone home, hidden away like the rest of his family. When the sun was out, they couldn't hide what they were. Instead, he had been worried about Dean, about what the vampire girl had done, had wanted to see him, to know that he was alright. Dammit to hell. He looked back at Dean clenched his jaw, "Don't ask me to step back there."

Dean got up and walked to him. "What are you scared of?" He put his hand on Sam's chest and gently pushed him. Don't touch, right... well Sam had touched him last night, so he could touch him right back. The hard, well defined muscles quivering slightly under his palm had him swallowing. "Turn. Let me see, Sam."


Sam's eyes shot to Dean's hand on his chest, didn't miss the fact that he was touching him, nor did he miss the fact of how good it felt, the way the warmth of his hand seemed to burn through his shirt to his skin. His muscles quivered at the feel, the touch. The only reason he wasn't having any stronger reactions was due to the fact there were other things to think about right now. Dean might know he was a vampire, might have seen his fangs, but once the sun hit him, he would see him, how he truly looked. See the monster that the clouds hid.

When Sam planted his feet, he was immovable. As though he were cemented in place. Jaw clenched, his mouth in a thin line as he looked at Dean, he shook his head slowly. "In the sun, I can't hide what I am. The way I really look... I - I don't want you to see." Golden hazel eyes searched Dean's face, "I don't want you to see me..." I can't bear to see the revulsion on your face when you look at me. His voice dropped to a near broken whisper, "please."

The panic in Sam's eyes confused Dean, as did his plea. Something shifted inside him at the thought that someone as powerful as Sam could also be this vulnerable. "I need to." He licked his lips, never flinching from Sam's gaze. "You're here all the time, I deserve to know the truth." He pushed again, adding, "I've seen more than most. I doubt you could shock me."

Pain twisted in Sam's chest as he bit his lip, closed his eyes and took one heavy step toward the window, then another, until he was standing directly in the sunlight that shone into the room. There were too many feelings, too many emotions for this guy who was asking to see him in the sunlight for Sam to deny him. He use to think of himself as Dean's angel, had wanted to believe it, even if down deep he knew he was just a monster. With Dean asking him now, he gave in. God help him, he gave in.


Every patch of skin that showed, that his shirt didn't cover, his face, his hands, glittered in the bright sunlight as he stood there, eyes squeezed tightly closed, his bottom lip caught between straight white teeth. A soft sound escaped Sam, almost a whimper, before he released his lip, his mouth opening just slightly as he took in a breath, "Happy now that you see the monster that looks in on you?" Sam asked him, keeping his eyes closed against the revulsion he knew he would see on Dean's face.

A rare thing happened. For a moment, Dean was struck dumb. His gaze traveled up and down Sam's face, to his throat and hands, and he started to smile. When he looked back up and found Sam looking nervous as hell and with his eyes screwed shut, he knew for sure the guy had lots of things backwards.

"Dude," he slapped Sam's shoulder, "THAT is NOT how monsters look. You look... well... you're...pretty." He laughed at that, but it was true. "Like you rolled around in glitter or someone dumped fairy dust over you."

Sam slowly opened his eyes and looked at Dean frowning. "I am not...pretty." He frowned harder, "glitter?" He looked away then, out the window and shook his head, "You aren't disgusted... appalled at the monster you see before you?" he asked him, voice tight.

"You've got to be kidding me, Sam. What's disgusting about glitter." He snorted. "I don't get it, you had no second thoughts showing me you can rip a guys head off with your bare hands, but this... this you think ... yeah I don't get it. You're fine. You look great, really. Pretty," he insisted for good measure, and moved quickly away, trying not to wonder how Sam would look if he were shirtless in the sun, or naked. "Like art." He was thinking of the Greek and Roman statues, only shinier and with arms and other unbroken bits.

Sam looked back at him, golden hazel eyes studying Dean's face for the lie he was sure he was telling, but saw nothing. He cleared his throat, head hanging, "Can I, uh, move now?" he asked, lifting his head, to look at Dean from under his brows.

Sam wasted no time in stepping away from the window, away from the sunlight that revealed too much. "Alice asked why I wasn't home today..." he shrugged, nodded his head toward the window, "with the sun and all. We don't... go...out in the sun," he looked at Dean, golden hazel meeting green, "ever. It was what she wanted to know -- if you had seen yet," he cleared his throat, looked away.

"You didn't tell her you were out hunting," Dean pointed out, suddenly yawning now that he had all his questions answered. "I gotta get some sleep." He headed for the bed. "If you don't want to go outside, you can crash here. There's another bedroom across the hall," he offered. Smart Winchester... allowing a vampire to skulk around the house while you're asleep, but it wasn't like he'd been able to stop Sam from doing that before.

Sam shook his head at Dean's remark about not telling Alice about hunting 'vampires'. No that was a conversation he felt was better had face to face. His father wouldn't be too pleased probably. Not because of what he had done, but because Sam was not back to being 100% yet.


Sam nodded, backing toward the wall next to the window and slowly sliding down it to sit on the floor, leg's bent, wrists on his knees, he waved Dean toward his bed as he looked up at him and shook his head, the corner of his lips turning up slightly. "Go head. I'll be right here. I won't move at all." He shook his head slightly as he laid it back against the wall, "Don't sleep. It's okay. I'll watch over you while you do."

"Huh? No... that's just weird, being watched when you're asleep, seriously." He cleared his throat, and looking at Sam sitting on the ground just knew the guy was gonna give him trouble. "Can you at least watch t.v. or something?" He was ready to move to the other room if he had to, but he didn't really like the idea of sleeping on his dad's bed.

Sam quirked a brow at Dean, his lips curving upward a bit more. "I watch you sleep all the time." His smile slowly fell, "You're beautiful when you sleep. Relaxed, not bitching at me about being moody. You look a little like the young boy I remember so well," his eyes narrowed, "Except your hair darkened," he licked his lips, "but the face, in sleep, is the same." Sam tilted his head to the side, "Sometimes, you look so sweet, so innocent, I just have to touch you to make sure that you're real." He tore his gaze away from Dean, eyes darkening slightly as he cleared his throat, emotions, those same ones that had hit him before, when he had thought about kissing Dean, when he had kissed him, beginning to stir. "I think you could sleep through an earthquake." he mumbled.

Strange emotions stirred inside Dean, preventing him like scoffing at those descriptions of himself, the way he ordinarily would have. Instead his chest constricted, his muscles tensing... waiting for something... something that could, would probably never happen again. In silence, he nodded and lay down, staring at Sam, knowing there was no way he'd sleep... until he was proven wrong by drifting off to sleep.

Sam sat there on the floor, still as a statue, eyes on Dean . He didn't move from that spot, just as he had said he wouldn't. Not while Dean was staring back, not when his eyelids grew heavy, not even when sleep finally claimed him and Sam wanted... wanted so badly to go over and touch...

(A/N: You can read the rest of the story, completed, here: http://virtualpersonal.livejournal.com/175603.html )