Deal Breaker, part 1/?

Author: Zoicyte aka Johnnyjosh

Fandom: Supernatural

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Dean/Sam

Beta: BehrBeMine, Reiver Vicious, thanks also to Zab Jade for encouragement and support!

Spoilers: Season 2

Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural or its characters, and am making no money from this.

Warnings and Notes: Yaoi, lemon, wincest, mild non-con, bondage, language, violence.  OOC, TWT, AU, General Weirdness. 

Additional Notes: Due to what I’ve seen in spoilers and sides, don’t expect much in the way of Season 3 canon, as I have no idea where the Krypkeeper’s going with all this XD.

Summary:  Sometimes to beat one kind of evil, you have to join forces with another… 

~~oOo~~ Change of scene or POV   




The moon was still high overhead, dawn several hours away as the Winchester brothers slowly made their way back to the Impala.  They’d gone on a hunt for another of the escaped entities set free from the gateway in the cemetery and, luckily for them, the creature had turned out to be surprisingly sloppy.


“Man, that was one of the easiest hunts we’ve had in a long time,” Dean chuckled, laying the shotgun in the trunk, waiting for Sam to put his gun inside as well before he slammed it shut. 


Sam walked around to the passenger side door, laying one arm on the roof and hanging his head.  “I wouldn’t call that easy,” he murmured, lifting his free hand to wipe a smear of blood from his cheek, wincing as his fingers brushed over the deep cut beneath.  “That thing was just so happy to be free it gorged itself on as many victims as it could find.  It didn’t care how much attention it attracted.” 


“Well, we tracked, hunted and killed it all in less than twenty-four hours, and this time we came out without…” he paused and looked over at his brother’s face.  “Well, almost without a scratch.  I’d still say that’s a pretty good reason to celebrate.  How about we hit that roadhouse we passed a few miles back and have a little fun?”  He raised his eyebrows suggestively and grinned at Sam, before getting into the driver’s seat. 


Sam sighed, then rolled his eyes and shook his head.  “Whatever,” he muttered, grabbing his bag out of the back seat, opening one of the flaps and looking for the small first aid kit he kept there.  He didn’t notice the main zipper was open, until he had nearly tilted the bag onto its end, causing the notebook he’d stored inside to tumble out, right into Dean’s lap.  Oh shit… he thought, wincing when the loose papers held in the book fell out as well, one landing face-up on Dean’s knee.  Sam lunged forward, one knee on the seat, one hand on the dash as he reached frantically for the papers, before his brother saw the numerous plans sketched out on them. 


“What’s this?” Dean asked almost absently, fingers pausing in their impatient drumming on the wheel.  He picked up the paper on his leg, glancing at it with a frown. 


“It’s nothing, here,” Sam gave his brother a nervous smile, reaching quickly for it.  He cursed inwardly when Dean held it out of his reach, studying it intently.  “Dean…” 


“What the hell is this, Sam?” Dean asked, voice low and dangerous.  He didn’t even turn to face the younger man as he started picking up some of the other papers, leafing through them with growing anger.  Suddenly he opened the car door, getting out and pacing briefly beside the car, one hand running roughly through his spiky hair.  “Dammit Sam!” he cursed, glaring as the other man got out and moved around the vehicle to stand face-to-face with him.  “What do you think you’re doin’?!  We talked about this; you know I can’t break that deal.  If I do, you’ll end up dead.” 


“Dean, I’m just trying to find-” Sam began, but was interrupted quickly. 


“No, Sam!  I can’t weasel outta this.  I can’t be responsible for your death…not again,” Dean said, the anger seeming to drain from him at the words, shoulders relaxing as his expression grew sad.


“What?” Sam stared at him a moment, perplexed.  “You weren’t responsible for what happened to me Dean, you tried to save me.” 


“Yeah, I tried, and I failed,” Dean said miserably, fist coming down on the roof of the Impala, making Sam flinch.  “All I could do was sit there while you died right in front of me.”  He looked down a moment, then met Sam’s eyes.  “But in the end I found a way, and I did what I had to do to save you.” 


“Yeah,” Sam narrowed his eyes, teeth bared as he felt that familiar anger and aching sadness well up inside him, voice rising with each word.  “By trading your life for mine.  Something you knew you shouldn’t have done.  You know what Dad said, hell you’ve said it too, what's dead should stay dead.  You had no right to change the natural order of things like that!”


Dean stared at Sam with an expression of disbelief, eyes wide, lips parted.  It took him several seconds to form a coherent response after the other man’s statement.  “Oh yeah?  Well what about me?”  His expression turned to a sneer as he took a few steps closer, getting in Sam’s personal space.   “I was supposed to have died after that heart attack.  You dragged me off to see the faith healer and his pet Reaper ended up taking someone else's life to save mine.  Oh, and let’s not forget the car accident.  You know, the one that left me in a coma, and ended with Dad making a little deal with that yellow-eyed son of a bitch so I could wake up, miraculously healed?” His voice turned rough as he spoke, the older man turning around and taking a few steps away from Sam.  “What's dead should stay dead?  Then how come two people have died to bring me back already?  I'm not gonna let you be the third, Sam.” 


“I didn’t want you to give your life for mine, Dean.”  Sam watched his brother quietly, shoulders slumped as he felt tears building.  He tried to keep his emotions in check, but it was difficult.  He knew Dean had always felt a certain amount of guilt over the incident with the healer, and finding out about their father’s deal had only compounded it. 


Dean shook his head and looked back at Sam over his shoulder.  Then with a sigh, he turned around and walked up to the younger man, reaching out with one hand, but letting it fall before it touched his brother’s shoulder.  “I did what I had to do, to protect you.  You're my little brother, Sam.  I need you here, I need to know you're safe.” 



“And what about me?”  Sam shot back, his own hands shooting out to grab Dean by the shoulders as he glared at him, pain and anger warring on his face.  “I'm not allowed to feel the same way?  You're my big brother, Dean. I need the same things!  I need you, I need to know you’re okay,” he broke off, lowering his head and swallowing hard, taking a few deep breaths before he met his brother’s gaze again.  “I told you before, there is nothing I won’t do for you, and I'm going to do whatever it takes to get you out of this.”


Dean licked his lips, then dragged a hand down his face.  “Sam,” he sighed, looking up at his brother.  He wanted to plead with the younger man to stop, but Dean knew his brother too well for that.  Sam would just continue researching, openly, or behind his back, whether he liked it or not.  So he settled for shaking his head, giving Sam a pointed look as his hand cupped the side of his brother’s neck in a familiar gesture of affection.  Then he pulled back and silently got into the car, picking up the last of the scattered papers and setting them on Sam’s side of the seat. 


Sam stood where Dean had left him for several moments, eyes closed, hands clenched into fists at his sides as he tried to get himself back under control.  Finally, with a frustrated sound he walked over to the passenger side of the car, opening the door and stuffing his things back into the bag. 


Neither of them spoke as Sam settled himself in the passenger seat, tossing his bag into the back and slouching down, staring out the window.  Dean gunned the engine, the tires kicking up loose gravel as he drove back toward the highway.



The dark stretch of road loomed before them, the Impala’s headlights barely able to cut through the gloom.  Dean sighed heavily, then pursed his lips, glancing over at Sam.  The older Winchester could almost feel the frustration and anger that seemed to radiate from Sam in waves, making Dean tense as he waited for the inevitable outburst. 


Sure enough, a heartbeat later, Dean saw Sam’s mouth open, the younger man taking a deep breath as he prepared to speak. 


“Save it, Sammy,” Dean growled, hands gripping the wheel tightly as they passed a road sign.  With relief the older man saw they were coming up on a motel.  Green eyes closed for a moment and Dean offered up a silent prayer of thanks.  He’d never felt so exhausted, both physically and mentally.


Sam watched his brother, an almost petulant expression on his face.  He knew it hurt Dean to see his anger, but he couldn’t help the way he felt about the situation.   The younger man sat up abruptly as they pulled into the motel parking lot, his hand already on the door handle.  “Let me out,” he said quietly. 


“Sam, what-” Dean began to protest, even as he brought the car to a near-screeching halt. 


“Just…  I’ll get the room.  You can go celebrate.”  He opened the car door, intending to get out, but an iron grip on his wrist stopped him. 


“What the…  Sam what’s your problem?” Dean growled, narrowing his eyes as he held the other man back from leaving. 


“My problem?” Sam asked, voice high, eyes wide as he glared back.  “My problem is you, and this whole ‘lay down and die’ attitude you seem to have picked up the last few months!” 


“What are you talkin’ about?” Dean demanded, pulling back a bit in the face of his brother’s anger. 


“I’m talking about the way you seem to want to save the demon the trouble of killing you,” Sam snapped, accusation and hurt in his eyes as he looked back at his brother.  “You look like you’re trying to kill yourself through either liver failure, a venereal disease from one of those trailer trash bimbos you keep picking up, or getting shot during a visit to one of those illegal gambling dens.  I mean, you’ve nearly been shot and stabbed during your last two trips to these places.”  


Dean bared his teeth, shoulders hunching defensively.  “Well excuse me for wanting to enjoy life a little before my time’s up!  If you could see things from my point of view, instead of your moral high ground, you’d know I’m just tryin’ to have a little fun, something we’ve never really had a lot of!” 


“Yeah, well, I can't,” Sam whispered, pain reflected in his expression.  “Because I don't even know you anymore, Dean.  Hell, the only time I even get to see you anymore is when there's something we need to kill.”  With that, Sam wrenched his arm free and all but jumped out of the car, stalking toward the office. 


Dean sighed and sat back, watching his brother walk away.  He observed the set of Sam’s shoulders, and the stiffness of his gait, all of it a clear sign of the pain and anger the younger man was wrestling with.  “It’s gonna be a long night,” he muttered, tires squealing as he sped out of the parking lot, heading off in search of a convenience store. 


Sam walked into the motel office, tilting his head and pausing a moment when he saw the night clerk. 


The man had a ragged beard and moustache, the kind that looked as if it hadn’t seen a razor or trimmer in a couple of weeks.  His hair, which might have been fairly thick and wavy on a normal day, was flat and limp on his scalp.  He wore a white, short-sleeved shirt with a patch on the right pocket that declared him the manager.  Even the shirt showed signs of neglect; it had food stains on the front, and a slight ring around the collar. 


Sam wrinkled his nose in distaste, but said nothing, merely continued to study the man a moment.  Finally he cleared his throat loudly, tired of waiting for the other man to take notice of him.  His eyes narrowed at the way the other man jumped and looked up at him fearfully a moment, before the manager sighed and gave him a sheepish smile.  Sam noticed then how gaunt the man looked, his skin pale, cheeks sunken, and dark circles under his eyes that almost looked like bruises.


“Hi there, you’d like a room?” the man asked, pushing the registry toward Sam, his hand shaking slightly. 


“Yeah,” Sam said, trailing off when the other man leaned forward and not one, but two crucifix necklaces slipped out from beneath the other man’s shirt, dangling in front of his chest.  Looking thoughtful for a moment, Sam glanced around, noticing quite a few religious items scattered throughout the room, particularly near the doors and windows.  It was as if the man was trying to keep something away…  “I’d like one with two single beds, please.”  He dug into his pocket, pulling out some money, and handed over enough for the room, plus a tip.  “We’re not sure how long we’ll be staying, might be two or three days,” Sam said quietly.  “Tell the cleaning staff not to bother with the room until we’ve checked out.” 


“Okay then,” the manager replied, nodding slowly.  “Room 23.  Turn right once you go back outside, and up the stairs.  It’s the third door down.”  The man held out a key, his hand still slightly shaky, making the key jingle softly on the ring. 


“Thanks,” Sam said, nodding slowly.  He studied the man just a moment longer, noting the way the man’s eyes kept nervously darting toward the windows and doors.  He knew now that there must be something in the area, and this man had either been lucky enough to survive an encounter, or he was being preyed upon, toyed with by some kind of evil entity.  He opened his mouth to say something more, then closed it again, deciding to just head back to the room and wait for Dean.  “Well, goodnight,” he murmured, waving to the man before turning back to the door.  Sam opened it and took one last look at the other man, noting the way he looked more nervous at the prospect of being left alone.  The man shot Sam an almost pleading look, before he nodded and waved, busying himself with the registry. 


“Okay then,” Sam murmured, his expression thoughtful as he moved away from the door.  He decided to sit outside on the bench near the edge of the parking lot for a while; not wanting to suffer the silence and loneliness he knew awaited him in the empty motel room.  After all, Dean would very likely be away all night.


As he sat down, Sam reached back, hand touching the gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans, resting at the small of his back.  His gaze returned often to the front door of the office, almost like he was expecting to see something or someone coming after the manager inside.  Sam’s eyes narrowed as he checked his watch, wondering if he should lay down something to keep whatever demons might be in the area away.   The brunet blinked in surprise when the Impala’s lights cut through the darkness, the car coming to a stop in front of him. 


“Hey,” Dean got out and tilted his head, green eyes narrowing as he eyed his brother.  “What’s up?”  He opened the back door and pulled out two bags, and a twelve pack of beer, setting everything on the roof of the Impala before he closed and locked the doors.  “What are you doin’ out here?” 


Sam moved over to the car, grabbing one of the bags. “I could ask you the same thing.  What happened to your celebration?” he murmured, glancing back at the office one more time. 


“Eh, I can do that some other time,” he said, trying to sound casual about it, but the truth of the matter was Sam’s last words before he got out of the car had hurt Dean, more than he cared to admit.  “Now what’s got your panties in a bunch?” 


“Let’s get this stuff to the room,” Sam said, nodding toward the stairs, “and I’ll tell you.”  He held the bag securely in his arms, then started to walk away.    


Dean watched him moving up the stairs, eyebrows raised.  Sammy looked focused, intent, but also a little nervous.  There was definitely something to hunt here.  He followed the other man up the stairs, bag in one arm, and beer in the other. 


Sam unlocked the door to their room, walking in and depositing the bag he was carrying on the table, then he moved over and shut the door, locking it behind Dean.  “I think there’s some kind of demon here, Dean,” he said quietly, launching into a brief description of everything he’d seen downstairs. 


As Sam spoke, Dean smirked and nodded, putting his bag and the beer down on one of the single beds, before he pulled a local newspaper out of the bag.  He unfolded it as he listened, turning to the story he’d been reading at the checkout counter.  “Looks like we wound up on the same trail,” he said when his brother was finished.  Dean held the paper up, folded so the article was on the front.  “I figured something was going on around here, I just didn’t think we’d be lucky enough, or…unlucky enough, depending on how you wanna look at it, to walk right into the middle of it.” 


Sam reached out and took the newspaper from Dean’s hand, brow furrowed as he read the story.  “Six people in the last two months, all dying with the same symptoms?” he asked, looking incredulous. 


“Yup, and the cute little cashier,” Dean gave a naughty smile as he remembered her, “told me her sister’s a nurse at the hospital.  The official story is heart failure, but there’s a little more to it than that.  All the victims were male, and yeah, there was heart failure involved, but it was more like a total system failure, from extreme exhaustion.”  He opened a beer, then raised his eyebrows and tilted his head, gazing at Sam intently.  “What does that tell you?” 


Sam looked down, deep in thought for a moment, then his eyes widened as realization struck.  “Six men, dying from exhaustion?  Dean, you don’t think…” he trailed off, looking slightly apprehensive.  “We’re dealing with some kind of succubus demon, great,” he muttered, running one hand through his unruly brown hair.  He avoided looking at his brother for a moment, his first thought being of the older man’s roving eye, Dean’s raw sexual energy.  It would make the other man a prime target for just such a creature.  “It’s currently feeding off the manager, we have to stop it before it drains him dry, and chooses a new victim.” 


Dean nodded, pulling their father’s journal from the inside pocket of his jacket, setting it down on the table.  “Let’s get the rest of our stuff inside, and check through Dad’s notes; we gotta come up with a plan, and fast.  If that guy’s really as bad off as you made him sound, tonight could be his last night.” 




One hour later, they had their roughly hewn plan, which consisted of Sam going down to the manager’s office to complain about a leaky pipe, which of course Dean had managed to arrange under the sink in the bathroom.  As soon as the manager locked the office and escorted Sam up to the room, Dean picked the lock, slipped inside and drew a discreet devil’s trap beneath the cot in the back corner of the office, which had a still-warm cup of coffee sitting on the table beside it. 


“Now we just leave the bait out a little bit longer,” he murmured, quietly slipping back out of the office and concealing himself in the shadows just around the corner, “and hope like hell that trap holds you still long enough for me to waste you.”  He ducked down when Sam and the manager came back down the stairs, the other man giving Sam a wave as he unlocked the door to his office. 


“Dean?” Sam hissed, looking around once the door closed again.  “Where are you?”  He glanced around, trying to spot his brother in the darkness. 


“Right here,” Dean answered, before he leaned out into the light, letting Sam catch a glimpse of him.  “Get over here!”  He waved Sam over and moved aside so Sam could conceal himself in the shadows as well.  “I set the trap,” he murmured, then glanced over to where his brother was, barely able to see him, “now we have to wait for this thing to step into it.  When it does, we can send it straight back to hell.” 


“Hopefully before it manages to drain that guy dry,” Sam said quietly, before he moved past Dean and peered in a nearby window, wanting to keep an eye on the manager. 


After what seemed like only a few minutes, Dean began to fidget restlessly, uncomfortable at being crouched down the way he was.  “How long are we gonna have to stay like this?” he groused, moving the book and rosary he held from one hand to the other. 


“Shh!” Sam glowered at him, crouched down on one knee. “We have to wait until the demon shows, and keep an eye on the manager.”  He gestured toward the window, then gave Dean a light push on the shoulder, urging his brother to have a look.


“Man, why do I have to play peeping Tom?” Dean grumbled, getting up and leaning toward the corner of the window. “That guy could be doin’ anything in there.”  He turned and shot Sam a glare over his shoulder.  “If I end up seeing something that traumatizes me, I’m gonna kick your ass,” he threatened, narrowing his eyes as he looked inside. 


Luckily for Dean, the man was doing nothing more than sitting on the cot, hunched forward, head in his hands.  He lifted his head after a few moments, his expression fearful before he reached out and grabbed the cup of coffee, downing it in just a few swallows.  Once it was finished, he got up and walked over to the coffee maker, pouring himself another cup before he took a seat behind the desk, his feet up on a nearby box. 


When Sam leaned up and peered over the top of his brother’s head, watching as well, Dean scowled, feeling the other man’s presence close behind him.  “Well hell, why did I have to look if you could just do that?” Dean hissed, turning to frown severely at his brother. 


“Dean, stop it,” Sam whispered, then shook his head as he watched the desk clerk’s head loll back, the man obviously fighting to stay awake.  “Where did you put the devil’s trap?” 


“Under the cot,” Dean sighed, fingers tightening around the book in his hand.  “And of course, that idiot’s about to fall asleep in the chair, instead of where he was supposed to be!” 


“So what do we do about it?” Sam asked, frowning as he watched through the window. 


The manager sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, and then he rubbed his eyes furiously, trying to stay awake.  He set his coffee cup on the desk, before his expression turned blank, jaw slack, eyes hooded.  The two men watched as his eyes slid shut, his body relaxed.  In moments the man had fallen into an exhausted sleep. 


“Sam,” Dean said quietly, every muscle tensed while he continued to watch the manager.  He drew his gun, then pulled away from his brother suddenly, looking around them, as if worried something was going to try to sneak up on them. 


“I know, it’s got to be nearby,” Sam murmured, realizing the man must have been given some kind of suggestion to fall asleep.  He, too, pulled out his gun, the younger man also pulling a bottle of holy water from his pocket.  He glanced around then, sharing some of his brother’s unease. 


“Sam!” Dean hissed, gesturing back toward the window.  Inside the room, a tall, slightly overweight blond woman had appeared.  “It’s here.” 


“How are we supposed to trap it?  If we don’t get rid of it here and now, it’ll just move on and find another victim.”  While he spoke, Sam was slowly moving around the corner, toward the door. 


“Wait, Sam!” Dean whispered, holding up one finger.  “I’m workin’ on it…” The older man bared his teeth, eyes narrowing before he turned away from the sight of the woman straddling the manager and starting to undo his clothing.  “No accounting for taste I guess, it is a demon after all.”  


“Dean!” Sam gestured toward the door impatiently, eyes widened as he urged his brother to take action. 


“Hold on,” Dean murmured, moving to stand beside his brother.  “If we wait until it’s just about to feed, it’ll be too stunned to react when we bust in.  We’ll have to hit it with everything we can, and shove or throw the damn thing onto the cot.  Then I can exorcise it once the trap takes hold.” 


Sam nodded and opened the bottle containing the holy water once the safety was off his gun.  He waited a few more moments, then glanced at his brother.  “Okay, on three…  One-”


“Two…” Dean growled, one hand holding the book, a rosary draped around the hand holding his gun. 


“Three!” the two brothers cried in unison.  Dean kicked the door in, then stepped into the room, gun raised.  Sam was right behind him, taking a few quick steps forward. 


The demon barely had time to look up and hiss at them, before the two brothers rushed her.  Dean’s foot hit her square in the chest, sending the demon sprawling, while the hapless manager ended up on the floor when the chair was overturned, still asleep.  The demon slid along the slippery, worn surface of the floor, straight toward the cot.  From her vantage point she had a clear view of the devil’s trap and as soon as she saw it, an inhuman shriek rent the air.  She flung out her arms, managing to stop herself well back from the circle, then she glared up at them, eyes wide. 


Her eyes were unlike those of other demons the brothers had encountered.  They were not black, yellow or red, but rather a brilliant hellfire orange.  The color stood out starkly against her pale skin, like two pits of flame in her pallid face. 


The demon didn’t show any outward signs of fear as Sam and Dean advanced on her, both of them with their guns drawn, slowly rising to point at her, though she did bare slightly yellowed teeth at the rosary wrapped around Dean’s right hand.  “You can’t stop me,” she rasped, then gave a low, malicious laugh and sprang to her feet. 


“Let’s get this bitch into the trap already,” Dean growled, before he looked over at his brother.  He gripped his gun tightly, knuckles turning white, vaguely aware of the feel of the rosary beads pressing hard into his palm and fingers.


Sam nodded, and with a deft flick of his wrist splashed her with holy water, wrenching a scream from her while Dean tensed, ready to force her over the line drawn on the floor. However their plan went awry once again as the demon moved with incredible speed, leaping at Sam. 


Dean growled and took aim for a non-lethal shot, thinking to knock her off balance and onto the cot, hoping there was a chance they could still avoid having to kill the host.  Green eyes widened, a curse spilling from Dean’s lips as the demon jerked to one side, and instead of getting shot in the right shoulder, the bullet lodged itself in the left side of her chest, spinning her around.  Even in her injured state, the demon had the presence of mind to fall away from the cot, before she once again lunged at Sam, twisting the younger man so he was between herself and Dean as they fell. 


Sam winced, grunting in pain as he hit the floor, left shoulder connecting with the hard surface.  Sam gasped and looked up at the feeling of fingers digging into his arms, realizing the demon was sitting astride him, glaring at him with those eerie eyes.  Without thinking he threw more holy water in her face, wincing as she shrieked again.  Then he heard a second shot and the demon jerked, lips pulled back in a grimace.


“Sam!” Dean cried, moving forward and grabbing the woman’s shoulder, trying to drag her off his brother.  Suddenly he found himself thrown back, connecting with the wall so hard it knocked the wind out of him.  His head snapped back and also hit the wall, and Dean struggled to stay conscious as his vision went fuzzy, darkening around the edges.


He raised the gun, aiming for her head this time, but he ended up missing when she leapt off Sam, little more than a blur as she ran across the small room.  He squeezed off one more shot, hitting her in the thigh, before she disappeared with the sound of shattering glass, leaving only torn, blood-smeared blinds and a broken window in her wake.  She’d leapt out the window near the foot of the cot, avoiding their trap, and now it appeared she would escape. 


Sam was on his feet a moment later, staring out the window.  Hazel eyes narrowed as he realized she was actually moving much more slowly now.  Maybe they still had a chance to stop her.   


“Dammit,” groaned Dean, falling to one knee and holding his head.  He growled as he felt Sam’s arm around him, the younger man trying to help Dean over to the cot.  “Come on, we gotta find her before she can take over a new body.”   He shrugged off Sam’s arm, managing to stand without swaying, then moved toward the door. 


Sam nodded, following his brother and trying to resist the urge to set a hand on Dean’s back to steady him.  He’d seen the way his brother had hit the wall, and was concerned about a possible concussion.  But unless it started to slow Dean down, they’d have to worry about it later.  His brother was right, they had to catch this demon, and fast. 


The two men stepped outside and moved around the corner of the building, spotting the sporadic trail of blood the demon was leaving that led across the small field behind the motel. 


Sam looked up and frowned as he realized the demon had gone straight for the edge of the sparse forest ahead of them.  He didn’t like the idea of trying to hunt a wounded demon in a dark forest with Dean already injured. 


Dean, however, had other ideas.  He raised his gun and stepped into the trees, looking around cautiously.  “Come on, it’s hurt pretty bad, which means it can’t have gotten far yet,” he said quietly, gesturing for Sam to fall in step beside him.   “Seems this one isn’t as good at keeping its host alive and kicking as some other demons we’ve met,” Dean grimaced, reminded for a moment of Meg.  


Sam shot Dean an apprehensive look, but nodded and kept pace with the older man, his own gun raised.  All they had to rely on was the moonlight and the residual light from the motel’s signs.  Sam was thankful that the trees around them were small and spaced apart enough that they allowed much of the meager light into the area, leaving only the occasional patch of deep shadow. 


“There!” Dean said, voice low and urgent as he pointed to a flash of movement through the trees to their left.  Dean started after what he’d seen, picking his way through the trees, trying to avoid stumbling on the uneven ground. 


Sam tried to keep up with his brother, moving off to Dean’s right and staying in step with the older man as they wound their way through the trees.  He blinked when, after just a few moments, Sam noticed that they had ended up farther apart than he’d had intended, Dean slipping into shadows, still chasing the source of the sound and brief glimpses of movement up ahead. 


“Dean!” he called, then gasped as his foot caught on something, it felt like a root or branch of some kind.  Whatever it was, he couldn’t pull his foot free, and he pitched forward, landing heavily on the ground with a soft grunt of pain.  As he fell his gun jerked out of his fingers and was sent tumbling into the darkness.  He jerked his leg, finally working his foot loose and rolled over, sitting up slowly.  Sam tensed, looking up as he felt like he was being watched.  A gasp escaped him when he noticed the figure leaning against the tree in front of him.  “Dean?” he said tentatively, a sinking feeling in his stomach as the sound of labored breathing reached him, along with the smell of blood. 


“Sorry, guess again,” a low, but distinctly feminine voice answered, before the demon took one unsteady step toward him, making herself visible in the moonlight.  “You know, I should be harboring some pretty hard feelings toward you two right now,” she managed a low chuckle, hand pressed to her chest, a large, dark stain running down the front of her t-shirt, and the left leg of her jeans.  “But beggars can’t be choosers.  You two managed to render this body useless to me, now I need another,” a wicked smile curled her lips.  “Maybe you and I can work out a deal.” 


Sam stared up at her incredulously, then got to his feet quickly.  He glanced around, knowing his gun wouldn’t be found until daybreak, so he reached into his pocket, finding the holy water, what was left of it at least, still there.  “Why the hell would I want to make a deal with you?” he asked, narrowing his eyes as he looked around, about to call for his brother. 


“Aw, guess I heard wrong then,” she tilted her head, regarding Sam with a knowing smile.  “Here I’d been told you said, and I quote, ‘you’re my big brother, and there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.’  Too bad,” she paused, coughing, a thin trickle of blood running down her chin.  “I might have been able to help you with Dean’s little…problem.” 


Sam bared his teeth as she took another step closer to him, opening the bottle and raising it threateningly.  “Like I’d believe that.  The only thing you’re interested in is a new body, and more victims.”  He called out for his brother, taking several quick steps back. 


The demon heaved a put-upon sigh, sitting down on a large rock jutting out of the ground and looking up at Sam.  “Well, I just thought you might want to carry on that little family tradition you boys have got going.”  At Sam’s glare, she grinned and continued.  “You know what I mean, the one where you Winchesters sell your souls for each other?  First Daddy dearest did it for Dean, then your big brother went and did it for you.  Bet you feel a little left out, don’t you Sammy?”  The demon shook her head at Sam’s slightly shocked expression.  “Don’t look so surprised, word travels fast where I come from.  Now, down to business before this body decides to shut down on me.”  She gave Sam a faint smile.  “I’m not quite so good as some of the others at keeping these frail human shells going once they’ve been damaged,” she admitted, then frowned as Dean at last answered Sam’s earlier call, the other man’s voice sounding far away.


“My soul’s not for sale, and I’ve got my own ways to save Dean’s.  You sons of bitches don’t even have Dad anymore, he’s free now,” Sam snarled at her, shaking the bottle and sending a few drops of the liquid inside toward her.  Hazel eyes widened when she sprang to her feet, quickly moving out of harm’s way.  Shit, she’s still fast, not as fast as she was before, but still too fast to kill without a gun… he thought worriedly.  


“Oh, I don’t want your soul, Sam.  I just need your body for a little while,” she whispered, demonstrating her speed once again by moving to stand directly behind Sam before he could fully react. 


“Go to hell!” Sam hollered, spinning around and managing to splash a few drops of holy water onto her face this time, making her back up with a pained cry. 


She growled at him, one hand over her face, smoke curling up from her skin.  “Been there, didn’t much care for it.  But I do appreciate being let out,” she smirked, lifting her head and glaring at him with those flaming eyes again.  “That’s why I’ll cut you a sweet deal.”  The demon moved slowly, starting to circle Sam, head jerking up as Dean’s voice rang out again, sounding closer this time.  “Hm, this is a limited time offer, Sam, time’s running out quick.” 


“You call taking over my body to suck the life out of people by having sex with them a sweet deal?” Sam’s expression was one of clear disgust as he watched the demon warily, circling around and keeping pace with her, not wanting to lose sight of her for a moment.   


“Oh, I don’t really need to have sex with my victims, or even kill them to live, I do all that just for fun,” she laughed softly, slanting a look at Sam as she continued to move around him.  “I find it ironic and amusing to drain away a man’s life by catering to his most base desires.  No, it’s not the sex I’m after; it’s the energy, the life force that I require.  And I don’t even need all of it from any one person.” 


The demon tilted her head and raised a bloody hand to her face, tapping her chin.  “But I guess you’re wondering what you’ll get out of the deal, hm?  Well, what if I told you I could take care of that pesky crossroads demon for you, and stop her from both taking Dean’s soul, and killing you again?  Then would you consider a deal?” She gave Sam a mock pout, her other hand pressed to her chest again, where a fresh trickle of blood soaked the already stained material of her shirt.  “Hm, even that might not be enough with your do-gooder attitude,” the demon sighed and cupped her cheek, leaving a bloody handprint on the side of her face.  “Well, I suppose for letting me out of hell, and loaning me that attractive body of yours for awhile I might make a few extra concessions.  But only for you, Sam, because like so many others, I’ve got a soft spot for you boys.” 


Sam sneered at her, the expression looking odd on his usually sweet face, and for a moment the relation between him and Dean was clearer than it had ever been before.  His eyes left the demon for just a moment as the sound of someone moving through the bush could be heard, Sam realizing Dean was closing in on them.  “There’s nothing you could offer me that would change my mind.” 


“Really?” she studied him intently for a moment.  “So you don’t want to help your brother then?  Here I thought you were willing to save him, no matter what it took.”  The demon held back a triumphant grin at the pain that flashed in Sam’s eyes.  “Think about it.  All you need to do is give me a free ride for a little while.  You had that bitch inside you before; mind you…I hear that didn’t go so well.  But!”  She held up one finger, tilting her head and giving him what would have been an endearing smile, had it actually come from a human.  “I can promise I won’t be nearly as much trouble as she was.  I won’t make you smoke, drink, well more than you already do, take drugs, get into unnecessary fights, have sex with anyone you’re not willing to, or kill anybody other than in both our defense.  I won’t even interfere with your hunting of other demons.” she held up her hands in a mockery of the gestures one made when being sworn in during a trial.   “You’ll hardly even know I’m there, except when I require energy, then I’ll just discreetly take what I need, leaving the other person alive and well, but a little tired.  I also won’t try to make you harm your brother, or those little hunter friends of yours.”  


Sam looked back at her, and couldn’t help but remember the phrase ‘If something sounds too good to be true, it usually is’.  “I don’t believe it’s that simple, there’s something more you want out of this.  You won’t simply take a free ride until you find another female body because you know as soon as you have it Dean and I will try to exorcise you again.  We can’t just let you go free,” Sam said while glaring at her. 


The demon let loose a low, angry growl as she heard Dean’s footsteps rapidly drawing near.  Soon he would enter the small clearing, and her chance would be gone.  She turned toward the sounds, smirking faintly.  “Fine, I tried to be nice about this, cut you a really good deal and everything, but you were simply too stubborn and stupid to take it.  I guess I’ll just have to do things my way, and take over a less willing host.”  The woman turned back toward Sam, fiery eyes blazing in the darkness.  “And believe me, Dean will get none of the concessions I was willing to make for you.  I will feed off the biggest, ugliest mother fuckers I can pick up,” she laughed cruelly, baring her teeth at Sam, “and I’ll let Dean have just enough awareness to feel it when they’re fucking him into the mattress, floor, wall, wherever we happen to end up.”  She chuckled and started walking toward the sound of Dean’s footsteps. 


“No!” Sam shouted, lunging forward and grabbing onto her arm.  “Leave him al-” he gasped in shock when he was flipped suddenly, flailing as he was flung down onto the ground, the wind knocked out of him when he landed heavily on his back.  He tried to draw in a breath, eyes wide, face pale, managing only a few wheezing gasps.  Sam raised his arms, swinging weakly at the demon as she moved over and sat on his chest, glaring down at him. 


“Time’s up Sammy, make the call,” the woman ordered, voice low.  “You either take the deal I offered, or I take Dean, with no conditions at all.  Your brother will be completely at my mercy.  Trust me, you really don’t want that.”  She watched him a moment, knowing Sam was imagining the torment she’d put him through, his imagination probably supplying more horrifying images than her words ever could. 


Indeed Sam was imagining the things she would do to his brother, pain building inside him like a knife being stabbed into his gut and twisted viciously as he imagined what her tortures would do to Dean, the way it would break him if she did carry out her threats.  Sam swallowed hard, managing a deeper breath as he glanced to one side, knowing Dean would stumble onto them any second now. 


“Well?  Do we have a deal or-” the demon’s question was cut off as Sam’s hand gripped the back of her neck roughly, pulling her down for a kiss to seal the deal.  She moaned appreciatively, unable to stop herself from running one bloody hand down Sam’s muscular chest.  I’m definitely going to take a little time to enjoy this body, she thought, grinning against Sam’s lips before she gripped his jaw, prying his mouth open slightly.  Her eyes glowed brightly for a moment before she stiffened, the demon forcing itself out of the dying host’s body and plunging into Sam’s through his half-open mouth.    


Sam gave a strangled cry, eyes widening as his back arched up off the ground.  His hands dropped, fingers digging into the soft soil beneath him as his legs jerked and twitched.  It felt like acid was being poured down his throat, eating its way down to his stomach, then rapidly spreading throughout his body, burning pain lancing through him until his vision started to blur.  The last things he was aware of before he passed out were the feel of the woman’s body sliding off him, the sound of heavy footsteps and Dean’s voice screaming his name. 



To Be Continued…

Oh my, well this obviously isn’t going to be as cute as Style, now is it? << I have a bad feeling about all this…

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