In Arcadia Ego - Section Four

[glasslogic]

“He’s going to be fine,” Dean told Sam firmly, later the next day.

Sam nodded from the passenger side of the Impala. Dean slid behind the wheel and pulled out of the parking lot.

“The cute and chatty nurse was more than happy to tell me everything I wanted to know about her very colorful patient, Mr. Haskell. This wasn’t his first heart attack, and since it didn’t kill him, it probably won’t be his last. They’re going to keep him a couple of days to run some tests and give him a few more monotonous lectures on the dangers of red meat, and then they’re going to send him home. He’ll going to be fine. You know, for a while.”

“Thanks for checking on him for me. I wasn’t getting anywhere on the phone.”

“I would have checked on him anyway; I’m not in the business of killing hunters, as a general rule. I would like to kill hunters, but at the end of the day that just makes my job harder and my life more uncomfortable.”

Sam let the familiar rumble of the car fill the silence between them for a few minutes.

“You told him you were a vampire.”

“I wanted him scared. Not that scared,” Dean grimaced, “but scared enough to talk to us. Bad luck he had a crappy ticker.”

“I thought it was a big, dark secret?”

“What? That there are vampires out there? We took out his security system before he got there, he doesn’t have any pictures of me, and he doesn’t know I’m any different from any other blood-sucker. It’s fine. Not like it’s going to hurt your reputation any,” he added pointedly.

“That’s fair enough. But demon blood. They think I have demon blood?” Sam repeated for what felt like the thousandth time, while Dean maneuvered the Impala through the heavy afternoon traffic. The vampire was squinting in the sunlight, and kept tugging his sleeves down as if was irritating his skin. He’d insisted on driving though, claimed he wasn’t in any actual danger, certainly less than he would be in if Sam was trying to drive in his distracted state. “Why would they think that?!”

Dean sighed with annoyance and cut off an ancient VW bus that seemed confused about the difference between the carpool lane and the passing lane. He flashed an inviting smile at a convertible full of teenage girls zipping past on the left. Sam hit him hard on the shoulder. The vampire glared at him.

“What the hell did he mean that I have demon blood?”

“I have no idea, Sam. If I did, believe that I would have told you maybe the three or four hundredth time you asked! You want to hole up around here and wait for Haskell to get out of the hospital and ask him for some details to go with his dramatic little statement?”

“No,” Sam said decisively. “I’m done playing games. I’m going to South Dakota and getting some fucking answers out of Bobby Singer if I have to beat them out.”

“That’s the spirit,” the vampire agreed brightly. “Drive in shifts?”

“Yeah, but not yet.” He gave Dean a sidelong look that was hard to interpret. “Find a motel room. I owe you some blood and we could both use some rest.”

“I’m good to drive for awhile if you want to get going. This isn’t my favorite time to be on the road, but I can manage.”

Sam shook his head. “Let’s just stop.”

“You know, the old man could just have been full of shit. There’s nothing to say you have demon anything in you. And even if you do, it doesn’t change who you are.”

Sam just shook his head again and didn’t reply.

When Dean finally pulled into an anonymous motel that met his exacting standards of ‘not an obvious firetrap’ and ‘sheets are probably washed’, Sam just waved off any questions about room preferences. After checking in, the vampire pulled the car around to the back of the building and they made their way into the standard two-bed, ground floor, hold-the-roaches room that would have fit neatly into any roadside dive. Maybe without the garish yellow and green swirled wallpaper or the odd statue of what was probably a dolphin bolted to the top of the television, but local color and all that.

Sam had decided to try a new approach to life, since his old one apparently didn’t work at all, and this approach was more about living in the moment and taking chances. Taking one chance in particular. A sudden fit of nerves kept him in the shower longer that he had planned, but he gathered himself, pulled only his boxers on and strode out into the room.

Dean was still fully dressed, lying back on one of the beds with his boots kicked up on the comforter, watching something that seemed to heavily feature squirrels.

“Going to put your clothes on?” Dean asked absently, using a knee to nudge Sam’s bag closer to the edge of the bed in suggestion.

“I wasn’t sure it was going to be necessary,” the hunter said slowly.

That got all of Dean’s attention. The vampire clicked off the TV and swung his legs over the side of the bed, sitting up. “Come again?”

“You turned me down before because you said I wasn’t in shape to be making the offer. I wasn’t nice about it, but you were right.” Sam licked his lips nervously. “I’m not messed up like that now, and if you’re still interested, I think I am too. To try it, anyways. At least once.”

“It?” Dean raised an eyebrow.

“Sex.” Sam glared.

The vampire took his time looking Sam over until the hunter felt himself blushing to his hairline and wished he had crawled under the sheets before making the offer. Or not made it at all. The boxers, especially over his damp skin, didn’t do much for modesty. He wasn’t ashamed of anything he had, but he wasn’t used to being appraised quite so openly either.

“Okay.”

Sam blinked. “That’s it?”

“Well, I don’t know why I should be arguing here exactly.” Dean stood up and stepped into Sam’s space, causing the hunter to back up until his legs hit the mattress and he sat down abruptly on the edge. “I’ve made no secret of my inclinations. The problems from before aren’t really an issue now, so if you want to have sex --great! Let’s go for it.”

“Um. Good then. What do you want to do?”

“I’m hungry.” The vampire traced his fingers over Sam’s collarbone, the light touch making the hunter shiver. “I want to make you all shaky and sweet with pleasure, then sink my teeth in somewhere tender and swallow all that richness down.” He stepped back, smiling when the hunter leaned forward, following his hand, and met Sam’s wide-eyed stare, pupils starting to expand with arousal. “Why? What did you want to do?”

Sam swallowed. “Your plan sounds good.”

The corner of the vampire’s mouth quirked knowingly. “Scoot back up on the bed a little then. Feet on the floor, knees apart.”

Sam followed directions obediently, laying flat and bemused as he reminded himself that life was an adventure.

He jerked back to attention and propped himself up on his elbows, startled, when hands landed gently on his knees, then slid up until they rested on the inside of his thighs. Dean was kneeling between his legs, watching him intently. When Sam didn’t say or do anything except watch him back, Dean's lips curved into an inviting smile and he let his hands continue sliding up and over until his they lay against the skin of Sam’s waist. The hunter imagined he could feel Dean’s breath through the thin fabric of his boxers.

“Wait.”

Dean stopped, holding Sam’s gaze, poised as if he could wait like that forever. But Sam couldn’t, couldn’t watch what happened next, and couldn’t wait any longer.

He slid his arms out until he was flat on his back again, staring up at the cracks in the ceiling. It was somehow easier when he couldn’t see Dean’s face.

“Okay.”

There was a chuckle from below.

“Does not looking at me make it easier to think of me as a girl?” Strong hands flexed on his waist as if in reminder.

“No. I just...”

“Relax. It’s okay.” Dean sounded amused rather than offended, and that eased a little more tension out of Sam’s muscles. Callused fingers hooked into the waistband of his boxers and slid them down, exposing his half hard cock to Dean’s view. The vampire pushed at Sam’s knees to get him to slide them further apart and moved in closer. “Still okay up there?”

“Yeah,” Sam muttered, starting to feel embarrassed for a different reason. There was a pretty attractive guy on his knees between Sam’s legs who didn’t want to do anything but give him a blowjob, and Sam was making him work for it.

“Good. Keep your hands on the bed.”

That was the only warning Sam got before a hot, wet tongue licked a broad path up the side of his cock. He shuddered hard and heard another chuckle from between his knees. Dean blew across his wet skin, causing another shiver to ripple through Sam’s body.

“You’re easy.”

“I haven’t gotten out much lately,” Sam muttered.

Dean snorted, then swallowed Sam’s dick to the root. The tight heat and suction caused Sam to bite his lip bloody and clench his hands so hard in the sheets, he thought he felt them rip. Dean let the shaft slide out of his mouth slowly, swirling his tongue around the head, before pulling back entirely.

“How was that?” he asked, in a rough but pleased voice.

Sam had the horrible suspicion Dean was grinning. He tried frantically to figure out what he could say that would make him continue, but all of his thought processes seemed focused on the swollen heat between his legs.

“I would say we should talk about our relationship now,” the vampire commented thoughtfully. Sam made a choked sound and struggled to sit up. “But,” Dean continued --and damn him, Sam was sure he was grinning now, “I suppose I’ll take pity on you, seeing as it’s been awhile and all. Settle back down if you want me to finish.”

Sam sank back onto the mattress, his cock still aching but his mind a little clearer. That lasted until Dean raked his short nails lightly over Sam’s thighs and set back to work with an apparent goal of frying what brain cells Sam still had functioning.

“Soon,” Sam gasped a few minutes later, distantly amazed he was still making sense. It had been a long time. “It’s, you need to move -- soon.”

Dean’s hands tightened on Sam’s hips and he swallowed harder, the muscles of his throat massaging the head of Sam’s cock until Sam came with a gasp, the world almost whiting out for a moment with the force of his orgasm, before he settled into a pleasant, boneless haze. He was dimly aware of Dean cleaning him with easy swipes of his tongue, then moving his attention to the delicate skin high on the inside of Sam’s thigh.

Sam’s leg jerked in Dean’s grip as he felt fangs sliding into him. He yelped, startled.

Dean pulled his mouth away from Sam’s leg long enough to mutter, “Chill out, enjoy the afterglow.”

Then he settled his mouth back over the bite and ran his tongue across the wound, seemingly happy to lavish the same sort of attention on Sam’s thigh as he had been giving to Sam’s cock only minutes earlier.

Sam didn’t know why he was objecting and let his leg relax again in Dean’s grip. With the sting of the bite eased somewhat, the gentle sucking was actually not unpleasant, and the sensations it was causing to ripple through his body were very not unpleasant, even still coming down as he was.

“I’m just going to close my eyes for a little bit,” Sam mumbled a few minutes later, when the post-orgasm lethargy seemed to be deepening and Dean showed no real interest in releasing his leg anytime soon.

Sam stirred awake when the moon was still high and the city around them slept. He was still naked, tangled in the sheet. He started to turn over but the movement caused the band aid on his thigh to pull at his skin and he settled back, not interested enough to mess with it. The bathroom light was on though the door was closed, causing weird shadows in the room. The mattress shifted, Sam looked up to see the vampire sitting against the headboard. He was still fully dressed, his booted feet stretched out on the crisp whiteness of the bed sheets, just sitting in the dim light, looking down at Sam. His face was expressionless, and it was too dark to see what was in his eyes.

“Can you taste it in me?” Sam asked softly. “The demon blood?”

“Go back to sleep, Sam.”

Things seemed as normal as they ever were, when they left before dawn the next day. They didn’t talk about the night before, though Dean was maybe a little less respectful than usual of Sam’s personal space. They tossed what little they had carried into the motel room into the Impala and headed north again.

Dawn was starting to crust the edge of the horizon when Dean pulled off the road and into a pitted parking lot.

“What are we doing here?”

“Feeding you. I hear a diet of soda crackers and gas station food isn’t good for people. Especially not ones donating blood and sleeping like crap.”

Sam pulled the door open and waited for Dean. “I sleep fine.”

A woman stepped out of the diner and brushed past him. The vampire paused with his mouth open to reply. Then he looked thoughtful and turned around, looking after the woman.

“Dean?”

“Hold that thought.”

The vampire moved so fast he was a blur, and in the next second, he was dragging the woman around the corner into the darkness of the bushes.

Sam looked around to make sure no one else had noticed, and hurried after them.

The sodium lights of the parking lot were just bright enough to let Sam make out the tableau. Dean knelt on the woman’s back, his knee digging into her spine and her arms twisted up behind her. Sam was about to demand to know what the hell was going on, before he noticed that the vampire was having to strain to hold her down.

“What the fuck?!”

“Look what I found, Sam,” Dean gritted out. “Free-range demon. Think there’s a market?”

“Let me go, or I’ll sear the skin from your bones, human!” spat the writhing figure in the leaves.

“If you think I’m human, lady, you aren’t paying much attention.”

"My mistake, vampire," she sneered. "I missed the reek of death on you for a moment."

Dean snorted, tightening his hold even more. "I'm surprised you could make it out over your own."

“We need to get it away from here,” Sam hissed, looking around to see how close he could pull the car up.

The woman stilled abruptly. “Ah, and you have the puppet with you. How charming. Are you doing well, puppet? All strong and healthy for your master?”

Dean looked up at Sam, but his question was for the demon beneath him. “And what do you know about that, bitch?”

She laughed and it was high and shrill, grating on Sam’s bones. “I know allllll about his plans for his puppet. And such big plans they are. Plans to set right what’s been so long wrong, put our true master back on his throne. You take care of the puppet, vampire. We want him in one piece when it’s time.”

Before either of them could ask her another question, the body beneath the vampire gave a sharp jerk and then black smoke was billowing out of its mouth. In seconds, the smoke was gone, leaving the air reeking with sulfur and the vampire kneeling on a corpse.

They stared at each other for a moment, in shock. Then Sam swallowed and looked grim. “I have to get to South Dakota.”

Dean nodded and followed him silently back to the car.

Singer Salvage was exactly as Sam remembered it as the Impala ghosted into the yard. The moon was high overhead and the house sat bathed in the silvery light, surrounded on all sides by piles of rusting scrap and bare dirt.

Dean stopped some distance from the house and turned off the car. He rested his hands on the wheel and looked over at where Sam sat gazing absently out at the yard. In the kitchen window a single light was burning.

“You want me to do this?” the vampire asked finally.

“No. I need to do this.”

“You want me to come with you at least?” Sam hesitated and the vampire continued. “Singer is one of the hubs in the hunter network; he’s going to know what happened at Haskell’s place by now. I’m not a secret.”

“Come on then, but this is my show.”

“Hey, I don’t work when I don’t have to.”

“Which reminds me, don’t you have a job you’re supposed to be doing?” Sam asked, sliding out of the car.

Dean shrugged and closed his own door. “The work finds me when it needs doing, I’ve got a sixth sense for where I need to be. It’s a vampire thing for those in my line of work. Right now I still have some time to spend helping you out. It could change any moment.”

“How much notice do you get?” Sam asked, as they quietly walked towards the house.

“It starts like an itch in the back of my mind. Then the itch turns into a problem. I don’t like problems, Sam; they complicate my life. I find them less complicating at the bottom of dry wells or abandoned mine shafts. Staked and set on fire has also proved to be a good solution.” He nodded at the house. “Speaking of which, do you know how you’re going to handle this?”

“I’m going to tell him what I know, and then suggest he fill in the blanks. Ideally, while you loom ominously in the background.”

“This is the guy who helped raise you?” Dean was dubious.

Sam’s jaw set. “He’s keeping secrets that are going to get me killed, and he hung me out to dry. Bobby’s gotten all the free passes from me he’s entitled to.”

“Let’s do this then.”

They climbed the low steps to the porch, the worn wood creaking under Sam’s weight while the vampire ghosted silently behind him.

It was three in the morning, but Sam didn’t think Bobby was asleep. He was proven right when the door opened on his second knock. They stood there a moment just looking at each other, then Bobby’s gaze drifted over his shoulder to where Dean was lurking. The older hunter sighed and stepped back.

“Well, I suppose you should come in.”

The kitchen was exactly as Sam remembered it. If there was one place in Sam’s life he had thought of as home other than the Impala, it was this room in Bobby’s house. Where some people’s childhood memories of the kitchen included the smells of baking bread and family dinners, Sam’s was filled with gun oil and the clatter of beer bottles. But it was still safety, and innocence, and a world that made sense. He wished they could have done this somewhere else.

“You want a drink?”

“Sure.”

“None for me.” Dean leaned against the wall, arms crossed casually. “I’ve already had one.”

Bobby shot the vampire a dark look and slid a bottle across the table to Sam.

Sam popped the cap off and took a long swig. When he had swallowed and set the bottle back down, Bobby sighed and sank into the rickety wooden chair across the table from him.

“Why the vampire, Sam?”

“How’s Haskell?”

“Better before you two scared him into another heart attack,” Bobby snorted. “But he’ll live.”

Sam nodded. “The vampire’s with me. Our deal has nothing to do with tonight’s business, so as long as this stays friendly, consider him wallpaper.”

“What do you want?’

Sam slammed the bottle down. “Damn it, Bobby. I want the same thing I wanted last time. I want to know what the big secret is, why I’ve always been on the outside. Why the hell people think I killed Pastor Jim and slaughtered those hunters who grabbed me in Oklahoma. Why they grabbed me in the first place!”

Bobby took his own drink, gaze shifting to the window over the sink. “What do you know?”

“I ran into a demon who called me a puppet and said its master had plans for me. World ending plans, Bobby. And Haskell didn’t tell me much, but he said I had demon blood. I’ve tried to reach my dad, and I only hope he’s still alive, because I haven’t heard from him in months now. But I have to know what’s going on, Bobby. It’s gone way too far already.”

Bobby nodded slowly. “Yeah, I suppose it has. John should have been the one to have this talk with you. I told him that, back when you were learning the trade, before you went off to Stanford and he started walking darker roads. I warned him that if you weren’t told, it was going to come back to bite us all in the ass. Jim, though -- he argued against me. And in the end, your dad took his advice. It was easier for him, I suppose. Jim argued that it would mess you up, you see. Said that once you knew, it would open something in your mind and heart that would be better left shut. And John was afraid that was true, that if you knew, you would go after things you had no business chasing. He was wavering there for awhile, I told him that if you didn’t know, you couldn’t be prepared for what you might be facing. I thought I had him swayed, but then you lit off for college and he shut down again. He didn’t like the betrayal much, you recall, but once he’d thought it over, he decided that was probably the best place for you after all. And it freed him up to do what he’d wanted all along anyways.”

“What was that?” Sam asked in a low voice.

“Go after the thing that killed Mary, of course.”

“A demon killed my mother; you can’t track them. They just show up and vanish.”

“Yeah.” Bobby leaned back in his chair. “That isn’t exactly true. But that’s John’s problem and obsession; that’s not what you’re here for tonight.”

“No,” Sam growled. “But we might get back around to that.”

“Not tonight. You can ask your dad about what he’s been up to, next time you see him. And you already know the answer to your question. Garrett told you before he collapsed; you’ve got demon blood in your veins.” Bobby threw back the last of his beer.

“How?” Dean asked quietly, before Sam could stutter out one of the thousand questions he had.

“What do you know about your mom’s death, Sam?”

Sam’s brow furrowed. “My dad heard a scream; he ran upstairs and she was pinned on the ceiling, bleeding; the entire room was on fire. He was barely able to grab me before he was forced out.”

Bobby snorted. “He left out an important part. The part where when he ran into the room, the demon pinned him against the wall while it dripped blood into your mouth, and when it was done, it handed you to him and told him to keep you safe because it has plans for you, and then it vanished and the room exploded.”

Sam just stared and so Bobby shrugged a little and continued.

“He wandered around for awhile, out of his head with grief and rage. Eventually, he ran into Jim. Jim put him in contact with some hunters, and the rest, as they say, is history. A few people got the story, back when your dad was still blissfully ignorant of what’s lurking out in the shadows. He shut up soon enough when he was able to grasp the real implications of what the demon had done. But by then, rumors were already spreading. Not sure there are many out there who know the truth anymore, but hunters risk their lives on the information they trade with each other. Once a hunter doesn’t trust you and there’s some cause behind it, that spreads like a wave. Jim dying and what happened in that basement were the nails in your coffin.”

“I didn’t have anything to do with that, Bobby. I’ll swear on anything you want. Jim’s death was why they grabbed me in Oklahoma?”

“That was Gordon’s doing.”

“Gordon?!” Sam snarled.

“He started sniffing around you after your little fist fight. I don’t know if he already knew about your connection with the demons or if he found that out later, but he heard about Jim’s death and started trying to stir up a witch hunt. Those hunters in Oklahoma were friends of his; they heard you’d volunteered to go after the grimoire and it sent up some red flags. I told them to park their asses and leave you alone, but then they grabbed you anyways and before I could find where they’d stashed you and try to get you out... well, you know what happened.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Bobby got up and grabbed another couple of beers out of the fridge. He popped the caps off at the counter and slid another across the table to Sam. “Here, this one’s without the holy water.”

Dean snorted from his place against the wall.

“Thanks,” Sam picked at the label. “What do the demons want with me?”

Bobby heaved a sigh. “I don’t know, Sam. I don’t think anyone does but the demons themselves. Maybe John does by now, but if so, he ain’t talking.”

“Do you know where his dad is?” Dean asked.

“I thought you were wallpaper,” Bobby snapped. “You see that paisley over the sink contributing to this conversation any?”

The vampire’s eyes narrowed and he straightened up menacingly. Bobby looked unimpressed.

Sam held a hand up before something stupid could happen. “I’ve got enough problems, guys. Please.”

Dean resettled himself, still glowering.

“I can’t tell you anything else, Sam. Last I heard from John was a few months back; he was off in Russia doing some research, said he’d be in touch when he got in touch. You know your dad.”

“Yeah, I know my dad. Fuck.” Sam rubbed at his face.

Dean shifted against the wall. “You going to send a pack of your dogs after us when we leave?”

“Not this time. No promises about the next. Sam, I want to believe you. I really do, kid. But... there’s no precedent for this. You might even be telling the truth, but you have demon blood in your veins; they might be able to use you for things and you not even have any idea. We don’t know what they want you for, and what they can use you for.” He shook his head. “The best thing you can do for yourself is get out of this life. Go find a nine-to-five job somewhere in the daylight world and leave anything to do with hunting alone.”

Sam hunched forward, his elbows resting on his knees and head hanging down. “Do you think that will stop people coming after me? Stop the demons who want to use me?”

“If you walk away, it’s going to be harder for the diehards to drum up anyone against you. Maybe you should think about options elsewhere. I hear Western Europe is a nice place to live. And there’s not many people likely to follow you there. See if you can lay low, disappear.” He sighed again. “As for the demons -- I don’t know what to tell you about that.”

Sam nodded and stood up. “Thanks, Bobby.”

“Don’t thank me, Sam. Just stay away. And watch your ass.”

Sam took the keys back from Dean and kept silent as he pulled the Impala out of the yard and back onto the main road.

“Can we head southeast?”

Sam nodded and picked his way in that direction for the next few hours, sometimes on highways and sometimes on back roads. Dawn was cresting again before he pulled into a suitably anonymous motel. The room was much like the one they had shared the previous night and Sam paced, frustrated, having trouble grasping how much his world had changed since then.

Dean let him pace and brood for awhile, then grabbed him by the belt loops and hauled him down onto one of the beds.

“Let me go!" Sam struggled to free himself. "Let me go!”

“Stop it.” The vampire pinned him effortlessly. “I’ve been nice and I’ve been patient, but the only thing you’re going to accomplish winding yourself up like this is to get sick. I would find that inconvenient.” He licked a broad stripe across the back of Sam’s neck, causing the hunter to still beneath him. “And you know how I feel about inconvenient. Besides, if it’s just nervous energy you need to burn, I think we can find a better way to handle it.”

He pulled off as Sam relaxed. When he could, the hunter rolled over to face him. “Am I going to like this ‘better way?’”

“You liked it enough the other night,” Dean replied, pulling his shirt off over his head and kicking off his boots.

Sam was definitely interested. “Another round of the same thing?”

The vampire raised an eyebrow in his direction. “I thought we might try something a little more adventurous.”

“How adventurous?” Sam asked wary, sitting up to untie his own shoes.

The vampire took advantage of his distraction to pin him again, this time flat on his back.

Dean’s smile was infectious and Sam felt his dark mood slide over into something more... malleable. There wasn’t anything he could do about his problem, certainly not tonight. He might as well let himself be distracted by other things.

“Touch me,” the vampire ordered, his own fingers making quick work of the buttons on Sam’s shirt.

Sam gingerly slid his hands over the smooth muscles of the vampire’s back. His skin wasn’t cold, just cooler than Sam was used to. It felt silky under his touch and he ran hands down to the worn denim around Dean’s waist, where he let them rest a bit awkwardly, waiting for more instruction.

“You want an engraved invitation?”

“I don’t know what you like.”

Dean rolled his eyes and pushed up so he could get at the front of Sam’s pants. “I like you to touch me. If you do something I don’t like, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

“That’s helpful; thanks.”

Dean ignored his sarcasm, tugged down the zipper of Sam’s jeans, and rolled onto his back beside him.

“You want instructions? Get my jeans off.” He tucked his hands under his head and gave Sam an expectant look.

Sam sat up and reached for the button.

“Use your mouth.”

“Are you serious?”

The vampire shrugged. “I just wanted to be touched. If I have to give directions, I’m going to make it interesting.”

Sam eyed the jeans. “You have a button fly?”

“Mmmhmmm. Lots of practice for you.”

Sam glowered at him, but leaned over to mouth gingerly at the worn cotton lying flush low on the vampire’s stomach. His nose brushed against the cool skin as he worked the button free with his teeth and tongue.

He worked at the task for a few minutes, the only sound in the room the cars passing outside and the soft whir of the air conditioner. As he reached the bottom of the row, he was suddenly aware of the swollen flesh laying just a thin layer of cloth away from his mouth. He undid the last button, then pressed his mouth against the denim and exhaled warmly onto the fabric, mouthing gently. He heard a muttered curse from above, and then strong hands were tugging at him until he lay alongside Dean again.

“Don’t start things you aren’t prepared to finish,” the vampire growled at him, before taking his mouth in a hungry kiss.

Sam was gasping by the time he was released, tasting of blood from nicking his tongue on a fang.

“Who says I’m not prepared to finish it?” he challenged.

“The way you couldn’t even watch me blow you the other night. I have trouble believing you’ve progressed from blushing mortification to going down on a guy yourself in the day or so since then.” Dean nuzzled in beneath Sam’s ear, licking at his skin even as a hand slipped beneath Sam’s boxers and into the warm heat between his legs.

“A lot of things have changed since then, in case you didn’t notice.” Sam was having trouble keeping his train of thought focused.

“Maybe, but some things remain the same. And the rest can wait until tomorrow.”

Sam hissed through the deep penetration of fangs into his throat, then bucked his hips into the hand working his dick with firm, knowing strokes. The normally languid pleasure Dean’s feeding brought about seemed an entirely different sort of thing with half his attention focused on getting Sam off. The hunter wrapped one arm around the vampire’s back and twisted the other into his hair, holding Dean’s head against his neck while his mind tried to track all of the new sensations that seemed to be building into something overwhelming. He writhed against the dual points of contact until the feeling crested and he shuddered in release. When his breathing calmed Dean was still pressed against his side, licking gently over the puncture wounds to collect any blood that still seeped out.

It took Sam a few tries to find his voice.

“Do you want me to...?” His arm felt somewhat disconnected still, but he patted at Dean’s hip, offering to return the favor.

The vampire snorted and reached across Sam to grab a cloth from the nightstand. He pressed it against Sam’s throat and sat cross-legged beside him. “No, thanks. I got my own fun riding the taste of that rolling through your body. Blood is better than sex alone, but blood with sex is the best way to fly.”

Sam closed his eyes. “I’m not sure I can handle much better than that.”

Dean reached out and traced a finger around one of Sam’s nipples, causing it to tighten and the hunter’s eyes to open again. “We’ll have to continue this line of experimentation. We’ve barely started to explore what I can make you feel.”

“All good, I hope.” Sam looked up.

The vampire smiled, eyes glittering. “As long as you enjoy it, do you care?”

When Sam didn’t have an answer to that, Dean slid off the bed and stretched.

“Go take a shower,” he suggested. “ I need to think for awhile.”

When Sam walked out of the bathroom, Dean was sitting on the other bed, staring at the curtain-covered window. He looked over and watched as Sam dressed in the loose clothing he preferred for sleeping.

“What are you going to do?” he asked quietly.

Sam didn’t pretend to misunderstand the question; it had been preying on him since they had left Bobby’s hours earlier. Minor distractions aside. “I don’t know. I don’t know that there’s anything I can do.”

“You could come with me.”

Sam smiled wryly as he hit the light and slid under the sheets. “Go with you? Hang out with your super secret vampire buddies and hunt down disobedient little vampires? I bet they would love that, you keeping a hunter as a pet.”

“You wouldn’t be a pet.”

There was a quality to Dean’s stillness that Sam hadn’t ever seen before. A seriousness to his voice that sent a shiver up Sam’s spine, like a portent of something unknown. “What would I be, then?”

“You would be mine. In all ways, you would be mine. One of us. Forever.”

Sam drew in a sharp breath. “Dean...”

“The demons can’t use you if you’re no part of them, Sam. If you were one of us, there wouldn’t be any demon blood in your veins. Whatever plans they have for you would fall apart before the weight of your different nature. We come from humanity, and we mimic humanity, but at the end of the day, it is just a mimicry. Their polarities, Heaven and Hell... to be one of us is to sidestep all of that. You would be free.”

“Just like that?” Sam asked with a touch of bitterness. “A few drops of your blood and everything would just go away? Be better?”

“No. We aren’t like that, we aren’t like them. It doesn’t take a few drops, it takes an ocean, and time. Sometimes ten years, sometimes more. It’s not an easy path, and we offer to so very few, Sam. Even among those who choose to walk it, not all survive. As for the better... only time can tell you that.”

“Ten years or more, to become a vampire?”

“To become one like me, yes. We aren’t like the others, Sam. There are no accidents or casual creations among my people.”

Sam shifted so he could see Dean better in the soft streetlight that the curtains didn’t block. “Have you done it before? Made someone... like you?”

“Once. A long time ago.”

“What happened?”

Dean sighed, the sheets rustling as he moved. “I don’t drink much human blood. We don’t need it to survive. Animal blood is sufficient for life; what human blood gives us is power. Speed, strength, other things -- harder to define. But that power comes at a cost. The more we drink, the stronger we are, and the more drawbacks we have to overcome. At the farthest end of our power range, we can sway the politics of entire regions. Start wars, and stop them. But wielding that influence makes us virtual prisoners in dungeons of our making. Even the few mouthfuls I’ve had from you this week will make the sunlight difficult to bear. A few more and I might not be able to tolerate it at all. Crossing rivers could be... difficult; other issues could crop up.”

“What does that have to do with you turning someone else?”

“I loved her,” Dean said simply. “I offered her this chance because the life she was trapped in was small and unworthy of her. I wanted her to be able to live a larger existence, to live it with me. But part of the journey from where you are to here is to experience every facet of the drawbacks to our existence, and do it all without even the thinnest margin of the power that normally makes it endurable. It starts slowly, a couple of years in, and then gets worse and worse until finally the transformation is complete and you can make the decision of how much you care to endure.”

“It... killed her?”

“No.” Dean’s voice was as cold as a winter’s night. “She was close, she would have survived. Hunters killed her. Humans who came upon her when she was at her weakest point. Asleep and helpless in the deep caverns where we lived. I had to hunt, I had to leave her there alone. Someone undergoing transformation feeds only from their creator, and they feed deeply and often. She couldn’t travel with me, and so she died.”

The grief in Dean’s voice for a woman probably hundreds of years dead made Sam’s heart ache.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“You didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“That doesn’t make your pain any less.”

There was silence in the darkness for awhile.

Sam sighed. “I can’t give you an answer right now.”

“I know.”

“What you’re asking, offering...”

“I know, Sam. I didn’t expect you to throw yourself into it with open arms. I just wanted you to know that you have... options, if you choose to exercise them.”

Sam nodded, knowing the vampire could see him clearly in the shadowy room.

It was hours before he slept.

“Who are you calling?” Sam asked muzzily the next morning, when he was woken up by the low murmur of Dean’s voice talking to someone on his cell phone.

“A cab.”

“Why?” Sam was suddenly alert, sitting up in a slide of sheets and blinking sleep out of his eyes.

“I told you I had to go when I had to go, and that it might crop up suddenly. This isn’t a job I can ignore any more than you can ignore yours when you’re on a hunt. I’ll catch up with you as soon as I can. If you want me to, that is.”

Sam climbed out of bed and started stuffing things back in his duffle bag. “Don’t bother with the cab.”

“You going to give me a ride to the airport?” Dean raised an eyebrow.

“Unless you have an objection, I thought I would tag along for awhile. We can just drive to wherever you need to be.”

Dean frowned at him. “Seriously? Because I’m not going to say no. I’d rather pull my fingernails off than fly.”

“It’s not like I can really do anything else right now. I don’t think the hunters can tell me any more. If there any more hidden secrets about this I haven’t ferreted out yet they can just stay hidden until I’ve wrapped my mind around what I’ve already learned. I don’t know how to go about hunting a demon, much less interrogating one. And I’m not sure I should do it even if I did. I think... I think my dad was right. Not about keeping it from me, but about what I would do, it being a stupid thing. And I can’t actually find my dad, so...”

“So tagging along with a vampire is your next best option?”

Sam shrugged.

The corner of Dean’s mouth edged in to a smile. “Okay.”

“Okay, I can come?”

“Why not? It might be interesting doing this with a partner.”

Sam changed into his street clothes quickly and shoved the last of his belongings into his bag. “You don’t usually work with others? You had a few with you when we met the first time.”

“This is generally a pretty solo gig. That was a huge nest and we were aiming to ash the entire place, so I called in some backup to make sure nothing went south. As it happened, you were the only loose end that needed cleaning.”

“And you certainly didn’t have any trouble with me,” Sam remembered darkly.

“Nope,” Dean smirked at him, “you made things easy. And look how nicely it’s turned out?” He shouldered his own bag. “ Ready to go?”

“Just let me brush my teeth. Where are we heading?”

“Louisiana. Land of endless swamps, gators, and Cajun rednecks.”

“Somehow, I think they might have more than that down there.”

“Not where we’re going.”

Masterpost


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