Crossroads of Eden - Section Four

[glasslogic]

Chapter Seven

“It’s been a week and a half.”

“He’s still alive,” Dean said flatly from where he was sitting shotgun in John’s truck, idly tracking the flights of owls through the evening darkness.

“How do you know?” John asked tightly, not taking his eyes off the road.

“I just do.”

“That isn’t good enough. You told me he wouldn’t survive a week without you. Were you lying or did something change?”

The air in the car was tense, but not much more so than it had been for the past three days. After running down all of the possibilities John had found in his initial search and coming up with nothing, Dean had demanded he work his mumbo jumbo crap and come up with some more. John did, but then refused to tell Dean where they were unless they did the physical search together. Bobby had elected to stay back at the junkyard and try the networking angle to get leads, but Dean was fairly certain he just disapproved of the company-- which suited Dean just fine.

“Nothing’s changed except that traveling with you is making this process take ten times as long as it should!”

“Were you planning to fly? Because otherwise this couldn’t be faster,” John snapped.

Dean shot him an annoyed look. “I sure as hell wouldn’t be wasting my time obeying the speed limits.” He motioned towards one of the signs as it flashed by on the right.

“You think getting pulled over for speeding would make this process faster?” John demanded.

“You’re just pissed because you know I’m right and it’s your paranoid delusional insecurity that’s making you drag this whole thing out!”

John’s nostrils flared in annoyance but he kept his voice steady. “I don’t think it’s paranoid of me to worry that the vampire with an unhealthy interest in my son might not be the most trustworthy person to have stumble over him alone! I want to see Sam, not have you drag him back off into some shadowy hellhole.”

“And it only took you a week of working without me to decide that was a possibility?! I covered five times the ground you did!”

“Feel free to get out of the truck anytime,” John growled. “I can do this on my own, and you can kiss my ass.”

“You can find him. Maybe,” Dean snorted. “But get him back? You have no idea what you’ll be up against. They wanted him bad and they aren’t going to have him tied up in some basement with only a guard or two. That wouldn’t hold Sam. You’re going to be outclassed and you know it, or you wouldn’t be putting up with me in the first place.”

“I’m putting up with you because...” John blew out a deep breath of exasperation. The vampire drove him crazier than his kid ever had. “Just shut up for awhile.”

“Well,” Dean said in a somewhat mollified tone after a long moment of silence. “At least I’m a person now.”

John rolled his eyes and edged the pedal down a little further.

Another hour passed in silence. They had entered the margin of another one of John’s potential zones of demonic activity more than twenty minutes ago and would hit Mount Ida in the next little bit. John’s method of deciding whether Sam could be present or not had to do with determining if there was any actual signs of a demonic presence, and that had a lot to do with canvassing and interviewing people. Local hunters, cops, anyone who could give him the type of information he was seeking. He didn’t have to bother with that anymore though, because Dean’s way was more direct, and more certain. John didn’t understand it, but he believed that Dean genuinely wanted to locate Sam and trusted the vampire’s determinations. What he wanted after that was a discussion for once they actually had Sam in hand.

The lights of the city were a smudge on the approaching horizon when Dean sat straight up and looked hard through the tinted glass of his window.

“Something wrong?” John asked, noting the sudden attention.

“Pull over.”

“We’re five hundred feet from an exit.”

Dean didn’t bother arguing, just pulled the handle and shoved the door open against the rush of air at seventy miles an hour. John swore and swerved onto the shoulder. By the time he had brought the truck to a full stop, Dean had slid out and disappeared into the darkness. John caught up with him a minute later a few yards out into the waist-high grass. The only light was from the half-moon overhead, but it was enough to make out the perfect stillness of the vampire, eyes closed and chin lifted. John forced himself to wait, if not with patience, at least with the semblance of it. After a few minutes Dean relaxed and opened his eyes.

“Well?” John demanded. Dean’s answering smile was cold and satisfied, something inhuman about the lines of it making the hair lift on John’s neck.

“This is it. He’s here.”

~~~~~
John Winchester was pacing the threadbare carpet of a cheap motel room on the outskirts of Mount Ida hours later when a brisk knock sounded on the door. He had the bolt undone almost before the last echo faded.

“Someone might almost think you were waiting for something,” Dean said as he pushed past to get inside. Dirt was smudged along one cheek and a dry bit of leaf was caught in his short hair. He brushed it out absently.

John ignored him. “Did you find Sam?”

He had been disinvited from the scouting expedition by the simple expedient of Dean ordering him to go get a room, and then vanishing into the forest before the hunter could object. The vampire had moved like a shadow into the darkness and even if he had tried, John had known he had no chance to keep up. It hadn’t thrilled him, but Dean had been right about John’s odds of being able to rescue Sam alone, and if nothing else, the vampire was motivated.

“They’re squatting at some old farmstead out off a dirt road. It’s a good ten miles from here, and it’s gonna be a bitch to get near it with a vehicle unnoticed. I just think it might be more of a bitch to carry him out during his daylight siesta while running from monsters over rough terrain without the truck.”

“You’re certain he’s there?” John asked intently.

The vampire gave him a tired look. It occurred to John for the first time that he hadn’t seen Dean take any sort of rest since they had started traveling together. He wondered if the vampire had rested since Sam had gone missing at all. Something to note in case it later proved... useful.

“I’m certain.” Dean rubbed his eyes. “Sam, at least half a dozen demons, a couple of Hellhounds, a leprechaun and my great aunt Ethyl.”

John’s expression darkened. “Hellhounds?”

“Yeah,” Dean sighed. “Fucking dogs. Big, vicious, and they don’t give much of a crap about bullets or blades. They’re also a little hard to see. But I was kidding about the leprechaun. And the aunt.”

John twitched aside the curtain, checking the parking lot for activity. “I know what Hellhounds are. How do you know the farmhouse is abandoned?”

Dean snorted. “Abandoned is probably not the right word, maybe ‘forcibly vacated.’ I practically tripped over what remained of the previous tenants. That was as close as I could get, though. Demons can be almost as sensitive as I am in the dark; the very last thing we want to do is clue them in that we’re around.”

“Won’t the hounds pick up your scent?”

Dean smiled tightly. “I’m not like you humans. I’m part of my native lands and they can’t sniff me out any more than they could locate me with a spell. They’ll think my scent track is weird, but not a person, and they aren’t exactly rocket scientists, you know? We’re good.”

John turned from the window and watched as Dean shrugged out of the battered leather jacket he had been wearing. “You’ve seen the layout. Anything suggest a plan?”

“Not really.” Dean sank into a recliner that looked like it had been new about the time Sam was born. “Not yet. Let’s watch it for a day or two, see what kind of patterns we can find to exploit.”

John’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you were saying he was going to die. That we were racing the clock.”

Dean drummed the fingers of one hand on the cheap laminate of the tabletop. “He’s still alive. If we rush in now, we have almost no chance. If we do it the smart way... we have a slim chance. We need to plan this out, and we need to do it in the daytime.”

“Why?” John asked. “Like you mentioned before, Sam’s not a lightweight. It creates a serious complication if we have to carry him out.”

“The demons are weaker then,” Dean shrugged. “Most supernatural things are. Sunlight is purifying and pretty much everything that goes bump in the night is affected to some degree.”

“I’ve fought my share of demons, and done plenty of bleeding at their hands with the sun shining overhead,” John frowned.

“I said they’re weaker, not neutered,” Dean snorted. “We’re going for any advantage we can get here. Even a second of slowed reaction time might make all of the difference in being successful, or being left to rot in a field.”

“What about you?”

Dean looked up. “What about me?”

John ground his teeth but refused to rise to the bait. “Aren’t you handicapped too?”

“I’ve trained to compensate, they’re used to outclassing everything and don’t worry about it. Plus, since I am a vampire, and they certainly know it, they aren’t going to be expecting a daylight assault. Another mark in our favor.”

John peered out at the parking lot again. “I’ll call Bobby. Have him come meet us here. We can use the extra hands.”

“By all means,” Dean agreed. “The more cannon fodder, the better.”

John’s narrowed gaze didn’t faze the vampire. “Anyone you want to invite to this dance to help out?”

“Nope. I could probably get some of my peers to help me rescue my fledgling, but only if you were willing to sit on the sidelines so everyone could pretend you weren’t involved. I told you what the penalty would be for knowing too much. Any chance you’d be willing to just sit here in this nice room and wait for a report?”

“And let you take Sam and vanish? No.”

Dean’s smile was humorless. “Then I think we’ll just avoid the obligatory slaughter and keep this all in the family.”

“You aren’t in my family.” John’s voice was glacial.

Dean bit back the automatic retort of just how often he’d been in John’s family as unproductive. Instead, he tilted his head back to stare at the water stains on the yellowing popcorn ceiling.

Running water was the only sound that filled the room while John ducked into the bathroom to prepare himself for bed. He was somewhat surprised to see that Dean hadn’t moved from the vinyl chair when he finished washing up and walked back out. He used the excuse to study the vampire, wondering what it was his son saw in the creature. John wasn’t much of a judge of other guys from a sexual perspective, but he supposed Dean was good enough looking. But not good enough looking to overcome the male aspect-- without even considering the vampire part. Sam had never shown any sort of inclination towards boys growing up, and his engagement seemed to negate the idea that he’d had some kind of identity crisis in college. The part of John that was a father preferred to believe that he had just missed something in his son’s nature, rather than acknowledge his stronger suspicion that his absence had created a crisis for Sam where Dean was the best option. The part of him that was a hunter couldn’t get past the vampire part enough to care about the rest. The demonic taint had been involuntary; the vampire had been a choice. The betrayal rankled.

“You need to get out of my room now,” John said gruffly. “You aren’t staying here tonight, and I need to sleep.”

Dean peeled himself out of the chair and stretched. “Do I ever stay with you? People might talk.”

But the baiting smile was off, and there were lines around his eyes that made him seem old for the first time since John had met him.

“Where are you going?” the hunter asked suddenly.

“You’ve never asked me that before,” Dean responded, picking up his jacket.

“I’ve never cared before.”

“And you care now?” Something was swimming in the vampire’s green eyes, something dark and... inhuman. John felt his hackles raise, his instincts screaming that the man in front of him was something truly dangerous. They had been traveling together for days and he hadn’t felt that warning around Dean since the day Sam was taken. His hand itched now to find a weapon. They stood like that, gazes locked for a full minute, before Dean abruptly looked away, rubbing his neck with one hand with an almost sheepish expression. The tension was gone like it had never existed.

“Let’s just say I’m curious,” John said cautiously.

Dean shrugged. “Probably going to spend the rest of the night lying in the woods outside the house. I imagine I’ll spend most of tomorrow there too.”

“That’s it?” John pressed, looking for whatever Dean was hiding now; for whatever was just under the surface, weakening the human mask that hid the true predator.

Dean met his eyes again directly. “Why are you so interested?”

“Why don’t you want to tell me?”

“Because it’s late, we’ve got more than enough on our plates, and there’s only one Winchester I’m willing to put up with moralistic hissy-fits from,” Dean snapped. “Guess who you aren’t?”

Vampire.

“You’re going hunting.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah, well, it’s been a while. I’m not going to get into a slug-fest with the demons with no gas in the tank. Happy now?”

“That you’re planning to go out and casually kill someone on your way out of town?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I didn’t realize drama queen was genetic. Learn something every day. I told you,” he continued before John could speak, “we don’t kill when we hunt. I’m gonna go let some half-drunk co-ed feel me up in the back of a bar, do a little nibbling, then leave them passed out and happy in a booth. A couple of mouthfuls of blood never killed anyone. Chill out.”

John watched as Dean slid into his jacket and stepped towards the door, then swore. He couldn’t, couldn’t bring a vampire to a town and let it go hunt. It violated everything he believed in, had fought and bled more than twenty years for. It was only for Sam that he could even bring himself to work with a creature like Dean. To let it hunt... “Can you use medical supplies? If I were able to get my hands on some?”

Dean banged his head gently against the motel room door, and then turned to face John again. “If I could, I certainly wouldn’t need your clumsy help to score them. But you aren’t stupid, so you knew the answer before you asked the damn question. I get you’re having some kind of hunter moral crisis, I really do. Which is why I didn’t mention this little side trip when you asked what I was doing the first time. I’ve let it go too long already, because I’m stupid, and I didn’t want to have this discussion. You pressed the issue, now suck it up and live with it. Or do you think some total stranger waking up a little more tired than they expected tomorrow is worth risking your son’s life over?”

John’s nostrils flared, but he didn’t argue the point. Dean rolled his eyes and flipped the lock; he had the door half open when John spoke again, voice lower and strained. “What about me?”

Dean froze, then slowly closed the door again and turned around, sure he was hearing things wrong. “What about you?”

John’s arms were crossed tightly across his chest, so tense that Dean’s sharp vision could easily pick out blood vessels lying just under taut skin. “You said it’s just a few mouthfuls, not enough to hurt anyone. I’ve got veins, and you don’t even have to find a bar.”

“You aren’t serious,” Dean said flatly. But he could see from John’s expression of uneasy resolve that he was. He was intimately familiar with that particular Winchester look, and was surprised to see how similar it was on two men with such different features. The idea was interesting, but complicated. Especially when rescuing Sam might still hinge on cooperation.

Dean didn’t particularly give a flip if John helped with the actual rescue or not; it would be a hell of a lot easier if he didn’t, in fact, because then Dean could call in help from people he actually trusted at his back. And Sam’s. But if the demons managed to move Sam first, finding him could be next to impossible without John’s assistance. “John... this is a bad idea.”

“I brought you to this town, knowing what you are. I’m responsible for what you do while you’re here.”

“You have no fucking clue what I am.” Dean rolled his eyes. “Chasing Sam brought me to this town, so whatever I do is the responsibility of the demons that took him. And I would have found it eventually on my own, so your conscience is clear on that end too. It just would have taken me a hell of a lot longer. And for the last freaking time, I’m not going to hurt anyone.”

“Are you going to ask them first?” John snapped. A thought occurred to him. “Did you ask Sam?”

“See? That’s exactly why this is a bad idea! You’ve got everything all twisted up with guilt, and demons, and your obsessions, and hunting, and Sam, and this has nothing to do with any of that. Everyone has to eat sometime. It’s just like if you ran out to get a hamburger. Save your crazy moral quandaries for other things.”

“If it’s so quick and harmless, then there’s no problem with you considering me fast food,” John growled back, sitting on the end of the bed.

Dean could tell that he was deadly earnest. And like he had told John, it wasn’t worth fighting about. There were much bigger things coming up they could fight over. This didn’t need to be one of them. And he really was tired, and hungry, and not in the mood to hunt. Besides, the idea was... interesting. It appealed to the part of his brain that still found fires fascinating and enjoyed bad jokes and cheap pranks. Basically, the part that tended to land him in trouble-- and feeding on Sam’s father was definitely asking for it, from Sam if no one else.

But his fledgling was a perfect example of how recognizing the bad decisions didn’t always lead to avoiding them.

Dean gave in. He dragged one of the chairs over to the end of the bed and sat down. Where before the motel room had been filled with the fairly amiable tension that had marked all of their interactions during the search, now it seemed to hold a weight of uncomfortable intimacy.

“Are you sure about this?” Dean asked, struggling to keep his attention on the man’s face and not on the blood he could almost hear singing to him in its dark, rushing language. Even while Dean forced himself to meet the eyes of the man studying him, his mind was pulling up images of John’s wrists that he hadn’t even been conscious of noting. The way the bones lay under tanned skin, the subtle shading and curves of tendons and muscle, veins that wound over and through all, flush with the delicacy of life and power. The seductive architecture was almost pornographic to the vampire’s finally acknowledged hunger. He was good at suppressing it, but once recognized it demanded its due. He had fed after Sam was abducted, but that went mostly to refilling what Sam himself had taken. This would serve a different purpose, and there was almost poetry in using John’s blood to fuel the bloody path he intended to carve to reach Sam’s side. The human body was full of delicious places to sink his teeth into, but the wrist was as far as Dean would let his imagination wander. It was the least... personal, and just sitting together like this in a motel room was already far more personal than he had ever wanted to be with John fucking Winchester, whatever their common goals.

“I’m sure,” John gritted. He held one arm out a little awkwardly and Dean reached to turn it to a better angle. Contact was like an electric current, but Dean was careful not to appear too eager. Control was everything-- for himself, and for not spooking the meal.

“You never answered my question,” John said suddenly.

“What question?” Dean mumbled, mind focusing on only one thing.

“Did you ask Sam?”

Dean forced his brain to process. “Ask...”

Oh. That.

Dean himself had no regrets about the games and twisted bargains that had brought him and Sam together; Sam had been asking for it and they had eventually made peace to their mutual satisfaction. But John Winchester was unlikely to view the story in the same pragmatic light. “Ask him yourself when you see him; I don’t want to talk about me and Sam right now.”

John’s lips tightened but he didn’t pull back, so Dean tightened his grip and sank his razor fangs into the thin skin of John’s wrist before the hunter could come up with other distracting topics. He used none of his abilities on John, neither the pain that he had tortured Sam with when they first met, or the pleasure he had lulled him with later. John’s blood was rich liquor, heavy with strength and with a surprising sweetness to it, with none of the faint sulphuric taint of Sam’s. Dean counted to ten slowly, then pulled back. John was staring intently at the faded print over the dresser; jaw clenched so tightly Dean wondered if he was going to break a tooth.

“You need to put some pressure on the holes.”

“What?” John asked, focusing on him.

“The holes,” Dean explained patiently, squeezed his own firm grip over them for emphasis. “Stick your fingers here while I get a washcloth.”

John examined his wrist. “Just the two teeth. Interesting.”

Dean ignored the observation, not interested in discussing his species with the hunter any more now than he had been before. It only took him a second to walk over and snag a washcloth from the bathroom. He felt renewed, lighter. It was always like that, even after centuries. Even when you were feeding regularly. Surviving on animal blood wasn’t the same; it carried no kick, provided nothing but basic survival. Oh, it eased the hunger, but without the blood of humans you just ran down slowly, minute after minute sinking you deeper and deeper into a powerless cold until you didn’t even remember what warmth felt like. And then one day you tasted the true elixir again, and the sun came up, with light, and heat, and... he was humming. John was staring at him. Dean tossed him the washcloth and tried to keep the dopey smile off his face.

John busied himself with getting his wrist cleaned up for a few minutes before speaking. “That was... fast.”

“We don’t drink a lot of human blood. It’s intense, and doesn’t take much for what I need. Animal keeps us alive, but it’s not the same,” he explained tersely.

“Do you feed from Sam like that?”

Dean’s good humor evaporated like a popped bubble at the mention of Sam’s name again. He forcibly reminded himself that John had been a far better sport than he had any real reason to be, and answering a few questions wasn’t unreasonable. “No. Sam’s transitioning. He feeds from me for the strength to do that, and I get that strength to share from humans. I only feed from Sam for more... recreational, needs.”

“And he knows you’re out preying on people to do this?” John’s voice was harsh. Judgmental.

“He knows I’m the only prayer he’s got to stay alive and not be a demonic pawn,” Dean said coldly. “Things you could have considered before you took off for the wilds of god-knows-where!”

John’s eyes narrowed but he didn’t volunteer an explanation of the long absence that had nearly ended Sam’s life. Dean decided they’d had more than enough togetherness for the night.

“I’ll be in touch if anything changes.” He stormed out and slammed the door before John could say anything else to piss him off.

John stared at himself in the mirror glued to the wall by the bed. His face was ashen and he held a blood-spotted cloth to the wrist he had just offered for a vampire’s bite.

“Sometimes,” he told his reflection, trying for a certainty he wasn’t sure he felt, “death is better.” But his eyes were drawn to the pocket of his jacket where a leather cord and a pendent lay coiled up. Bobby had pressed it into his hands before he had left the junkyard. His old friend’s eyes were as serious as John had ever seen.

“You asked me for this once, years ago, and I didn’t have it then. I finally got my hands on it a few weeks ago, and I’m giving it to you now, for Sam. It’s your decision if you want to give it to him or... not. Some things a man’s got to tend to himself. ” His decision.

Eventually, John fell into a restless sleep, where all of the streets were on fire, and an infant, just out of reach of his desperate hands, drowned endlessly in a pool of blood.




Part Five

Comments

[aubergineautumn.livejournal.com]

Second part is just as good as the first. Still don't like John.

[glasslogic.livejournal.com]

Glad you are still enjoying it! <3

[nighean-isis.livejournal.com]

I'm trying to wait until you've posted the whole thing, but I skimmed through this section as I saved it.

Lovely work - you're still one of my absolute fave writers in any fandom, but especially SPN.

And this John? Is a still major dick.

Once you've posted the whole thing, I'll re-read 'Ego' and 'Eden' back to back, then leave a comment on the master post. I'm looking forward to it.

[glasslogic.livejournal.com]

Yeah, I would have to dedicate some serious character development in a story like this to make John an overtly sympathetic figure *grins* after all, our "heroes" are a vampire and a want-to-be vampire, a hunter is hard pressed to fit into that mix. I expect to unlock the last section probably Thursday, glad you enjoy what you have seen so far! <3

[cassiopeia7.livejournal.com]

Wow. These last two sections were a TRIP. Ruby helping Sam with the garlic pills . . . vamp!Dean and John working together (I still can't get over that) . . . Dean's self-doubt . . . John offering to let Dean feed on him rather than an innocent . . . the appearance of the amulet . . . just, WOW. I know that Sam will be rescued, but where you're going with the Dean and John storyline isn't so clear. Not that this is a bad thing -- surprises are GOOD. And once again, I love, love, LOVE how you're intertwining bits of canon into the story. Beautiful work.

This is a wonderful, wonderful sequel to one of my all-time favorite vamp!Dean fics and I can't wait to see the rest. Bravo!

[glasslogic.livejournal.com]

I'm really glad you are enjoying it! *hugs* I expect to unlock the rest on Thursday I believe <3

[fourtenpm.livejournal.com]

yay for Sam not doing what Ruby wants him to do,
yay for Dean finding him

is John trying to decide if he is going to kill him?

[glasslogic.livejournal.com]

He's definitely considering his options <3

[starryfif2.livejournal.com]

I'm still loving the John and Dean scenes, even though it's hard to like John (Does that make any sense?). Is it wrong that I want Sam to be saved, because I'm really looking forward to him and Dean having more Vampire sex? Not that I'm not loving all the tension surrounding Sam's kidnapping!

Can't wait for the conclusion!

[glasslogic.livejournal.com]

It makes sense *wryly* he's not an overly character in this fic, but I think some of that is simply that Sam and Dean are the sympathetic chars here and John is fundamentally opposed to what they are up too. I'm glad you are enjoying the story! <3

[askellington.livejournal.com]

I've read all this in one shot, and enjoyed it very much! I really like the way you write John, he's as irritating and exasperating as he is in the show, but he's also got that something that keeps us from disliking him all together, the sense that deep down, he's a good person and that he does love his son. Given that he's so driven by this one thing in his life, it's hard for him to show it like a normal person would, heh.

The interaction between Dean and John are priceless--Dean has the patience of a saint.

I hope that Sam stays firm in deciding not to accept Ruby's help. She's believable, offers exactly what she says she will--only this Sam is smart enough to hear what she's not exactly saying. Good for him!

I can't wait until the next posting, I wish I was as patient as Dean. :)

[glasslogic.livejournal.com]

I'm glad you've enjoyed it so far! I think the rest will be up Thursday morning. I don't write John often, it's usually more convenient story-wise to just have him previously deceased, but I've tried to stick to his established character as much as I could for this *grins*

[ferrous-wheeler.livejournal.com]

Great chapters! You've written John really well, showing him conflicted with accepting Dean's help and being such a hard-ass that he thinks Sam would be better off dead than with Dean. So glad that Sam is not falling for Ruby's schtick and sees past the helpful seduction.
Looking forward to more! :)

[glasslogic.livejournal.com]

The next unlock will go to conclusion. I have to think canon John would certainly have that viewpoint, most of the other established hunters on the show have killed loved ones canoodling with the dark side, and they weren't even willing victims...

[werty30.livejournal.com]

I loved it! Nothing is better than kidnapped!Sam being forcefully fed blood and trying to outsmart his captors and being defiant. I love that he's not allowing any Stockholm syndrome feelings for Ruby, because all those feelings are only for Dean.

In conclusion, more please.

[glasslogic.livejournal.com]

*laughs* Glad you are enjoying it! The rest will be up on Thursday.

[glasslogic.livejournal.com]

I'm glad you are enjoying it! The rest will be up tomorrow <3

[etrix.livejournal.com]

I realize that hunters train themselves not to believe/trust/rely on anything supernatural (which is why John would be willing to kill his son 'to save him') but John has himself locked into his preconceptions about Dean and Sam so firmly... You'd think that, at some point, he would've learned to be a bit more adaptable. Or maybe that's why there's so few old hunters. Creatures adapt and change, and they don't.

Anyway, another great couple chapters. I'm going to have faith that the link between Dean and Sam will be enough to mitigate all the demon's blood that's been forced on Sam (and good for him for seeing through Ruby's pathetically obvious manipulation), but I'm still going to be pacing and biting my nails until tomorrow. =]

[glasslogic.livejournal.com]

I would generally agree with you, though with the exception of the main characters themselves, we don't really see any hint of leeway from the other hunters. Supernatural - bad. Period. Which makes sense considering how on edge and crazy the hunters have to be in the first place. When you start making allowances, things like the rugaru episode happen, not to mention Sam's kitsune friends and various other incidents. I think there wouldn't be a lot of old hunters because they go after things like windeigos *grins*

Glad you are still enjoying it! The rest will be up sometime tomorrow morning (est).

[proffesorx.livejournal.com]

I am enjoying this sequel so much! Question, why is it that when you try to go into part 5 it says access denied? Or is that just me?

[glasslogic.livejournal.com]

I'm glad you are enjoying the story! The problem should be fixed now, that was all me getting the links in order... and still forgetting to unlock them *wryly* Let me know if it gives you any more grief, but it should work now!

[proffesorx.livejournal.com]

all fixed, I didn't want to go to bed until I finished reading, knowing I have to be up in like 5 hours :0 this was awesome! Surely there are more sequels or timestamps to this verse in the future? (hint, hint)

[glasslogic.livejournal.com]

I sympathize on the timeline *wryly* What is this "sleep" thing anyways? I'm glad you liked the story! There is a theoretical sequel, but I don't make promises on timelines or actual manifestations anymore, it never leads anywhere good. The only story I promise will eventually be completely right now is the last Fortress one. The rest are... subject to inspiration. And time.

Mostly time.

Thank for commenting!

[angeblond.livejournal.com]

Well, i would have been a real fucker for Johnny Boy: i would have used the pleasure gift, just to fuck with him. I know it's childish and unproductive in a hunt, but oh so satisfying!

The plot thickened............*heart beats hard*

[glasslogic.livejournal.com]

Sadly, Dean has other important retrieving-Sam things to be about *solemnly*