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Chapter 8: Jessica is Burning A Supernatural/Vampires: Los Muertos Cross-over by Laurel (Sailorhathor) Chapters: 8 of ? Rating: Overall, Adult17+ for graphic sexual situations, sometimes in a threesome; vampirism; some gore; and bad language. Dates: This chapter was written in February 2009. Word Count: 5,270 Simpsons Ref Summary: Sam is turned into a vampire... with sexy results! Serious Summary: Blowing-off-steam threesome. Then Sam becomes seriously ill, and Dean and Lenore cook up a dangerous plan to save him. Timeline: Alternate Universe after the Supernatural episode "Bloodlust." Warnings: This chapter, incestuous overtones (Vampire!Sam/Dean), graphic het sex, and vampirism/blood drinking. Sam/Lenore/Dean threesome. Contains spoilers for several episodes of Supernatural, especially the second season up to "Bloodlust." Betas: Currently unbeta'ed Author's Notes: Told from Dean's POV. I promise, this is a cross-over with the Vampires movies, but those characters won't be showing up for a while. You'll have to sit through some more sexy vamp biting and graphic sex first. Awwwww... sucks to be you. The version of Tenshi and Midori Nakamura that appears in this story is a bit different from the version that appears in some of my other stories. The manner in which Sam and Dean met them is the same, but there are other changes. If you're reading "Seize the Day Suffer the Night," you know what I'm talking about. :) To the person on Fanfiction . net who wanted Sam, Dean, and Lenore to leave the hotel room, they have now left the hotel room! ...To go to another hotel room. ^_^;; Doh! Sorry! I promise there will be some non-hotel room action soon. At least for Dean. ::ducks:: The title of this story comes from the lyrics of the Slayer song "Raining Blood." This next part is going to sound a little weird. Yeah, I know, you're thinking big deal, this whole story is weird, Dean Winchester, and you're a big sicko; you just told us that you felt compelled to almost kiss your brother, dude. Don't lie. You were thinking that. But there's something you may not understand. I didn't fully understand it myself until I'd been under its effects for a while. It was the vampire mysticism, man. The "thrall." All that close contact, me feeding Sam from my own body... it just leads to other things. Okay, I'm not being completely honest with myself. Sam and I have always had an unconventional relationship. All that time we spend together in such close quarters. I don't know, I guess that had something to do with that weird feeling that came over us shortly before we left the hotel. I know it's totally freakin' whacked out. I don't know how to explain it in a way that will make others understand. But I guess if you're still with me at this point, you're either not completely repulsed by what I've written so far, or Sam, Lenore, and I are like that bloody car wreck that you can't look away from. Oh, right. I was about to tell you what happened next. Well, we beat cheeks out of there. Tried to put some distance between us and this vampire, and whoever she might have on her team now. Lenore advanced a theory that we might be dealing with some level of master vampire, because lower vamps can't entrance other vampires to do their bidding. It made sense. I mean, if some vampire had killed me and turned me into one of the living dead, I wouldn't exactly feel like being their pal afterward. This vampire obviously thought she would have some sort of control over the three members of Tia's group that she had turned; otherwise, why do it? To create your own enemies? As we put miles between us and our nasty little vamp friend, I tried to prepare myself for who the three people would turn out to be. Tia? Unlikely. While she was telling me what happened to her and the others, I can't see her leaving out a little detail like the vampire forcing her to drink her blood. Jimmy? Doubt it. Not with that sword-through-the-gut injury. No, the three recruits would probably come from the other five members of the party. I hoped to myself that Cam wouldn't be among them. Facing someone you've fucked as an undead bloodsucker is not my idea of fun. If she again told me that my smile was beautiful through a full set of vampire teeth... well, I wouldn't be able to return the sentiment. We finally settled in for the night at a hotel not that far from Omaha, Nebraska, home of the fighting demon hunters at Harvelle's Roadhouse. It might've not been the smartest choice, seeing as how a whole bar full of people who may want to kill my two companions was only a few cities away, but we were tired and couldn't spend another minute in the car. The muscle relaxant was still doing a number on me; I'd slept in the car and only wanted to do more sleeping at the hotel. It's some strong shit. Before I dropped off, both Lenore and Sam confirmed that they couldn't feel the vampire anywhere near us. We hit the sack. Here's the weird part. You'd think after a day like the one we had that we'd be too freaked to think of anything but the danger we were in, but not us. No, we got horny. I guess it was the trial separation and dramatic reunion that just made us glad to have each other again, to be home in each other. We were each other's be all, end all. I awoke in the middle of the night to the sound of heavy breathing and soft moans. Looking from my bed to theirs, I could see Sam and Lenore moving together in the low light coming in around the edges of the curtains from a street lamp outside our room. He sat near the end of the bed with her in his lap, except that she was turned outward, with her back to him. Lenore's legs were spread wide across his thighs. They were fucking, and boy was it hot, even with the lights off. She was leaned back with her head on his shoulder so they could share deep, hungry kisses. In the span of only a few seconds, I got hard just watching and listening to them. The way Lenore was moving up and down; the panting; the moaning; the silhouette of her tits moving just a little with every thrust, and the hard nipples poking out from them, begging to be sucked; the wet sounds; the way Sammy's biceps were shaking, tense with the need for release... mmm, how could I resist? I turned on the light. They were startled, and stopped their motion, looking sharply back at me. I could feel the smirk grow on my face. "Don't stop. Please," I said in a confident, husky tone, and Lenore snickered. I guess because things had been weird between us earlier, Sam felt a little reluctant to continue, eyes shifting awkwardly. Lenore wouldn't have it, though, and resumed the fucking motion in his lap. He gave a hard shudder and moaned in surprise, leaning his head against hers as if for support. I shifted my position. For half a minute, I laid with my head near the end of the bed, propping myself up on my elbow, and just watched them where they knew I was watching, grinning in appreciation. Sammy loosened up the more she fucked him; it started to feel like the night when we both screwed Lenore at the same time, and she took it so good, so sweet. Eventually I got a chair and placed it at the end of their bed. This was too good a show not to watch, with the light on, oh yes. I didn't sit down just yet. First, I leaned over, close to Lenore's chest, and, giving her a wicked smile, took one of her nipples between my lips and sucked on it. She let out a small grunty moan. After a minute of that, I moved to the other one and rolled it between my teeth too. Lenore quivered under our combined efforts to get her off. I wanted her to cum multiple times, at least once for me. My fingers slipped between her legs and played over her clit, flicking it and stroking it up and down under she shuddered hard and purred for me. We kissed, hard, dirty kisses like we wanted to eat each other up, which wasn't that far from the truth. While we were kissing, I rubbed and circled her clit with my first two fingers like a predatory animal. Lenore started to moan with every thrust and flick, shaking harder and fucking faster. Her left hand stole behind Sammy's head, pulling him closer, and he kissed and nipped at her neck. "Unngh... Sam... Dean..." she moaned breathily. Damn, that girl is luscious. To push her over the edge, I leaned over and gave her clit a big, hard lick. It trembled and throbbed under my tongue. Lenore shook all over and came with a shrill cry, holding Sammy's head against her neck with her hand fisted in his hair. I finally took a seat so I could smugly watch her cum, looking quite satisfied with myself. Of course, the fucking wasn't done; Sam hadn't finished yet. Poor Lenore, she would just have to cum more than once. You gotta feel sorry for her, huh? I didn't have anything on but my underwear, and it was quite obvious how aroused I was. I just grinned at Lenore with this big lump in my pants and she looked back at me, eyes all fucked out but still hungry. Teasing her, I put one leg over the arm of the chair to give her a real nice view, and started rubbing my balls down through the fabric. Mmm, that felt good. My eyes, half-closed, showed her how nice it felt through the heat they communicated to her, and my mouth, lips slightly parted, let out with a soft, needy moan. I fully lounged in the chair, enjoying my little play. Sam, with clumsy reluctance, eyed me as well. "Get those off," Lenore rasped. I was happy to oblige. Then I just sat back down, naked and hard, watching Sammy's dick slide in and out of that sweet pussy with her taste still in my mouth. Her eyes caressed my cock. "Play with yourself," Lenore commanded. Her voice came out half demand and half plea. Grinning saucily, I laughed, "Yes ma'am," running my fingers under the base of my cock. I slowly curled my fingers around it and gave it a leisurely stroke, being sure to give the head of it a good rimming with my finger as well. I stroked it nice and slow several more times, closing my eyes halfway through to just enjoy the pleasing sensation. Another moan escaped my mouth; right after, I heard Lenore moan too. There was pressure on the arms of the chair. When I opened my eyes, I saw her shifting her position, bracing herself with her hands, looming over me. Sammy was moaning at how it felt, holding her hips to keep himself inside her. Lenore put her arms on either side of my behind so that her top half was in the chair with me and her bottom half was still on the bed with Sam. Leaning on her elbows, she kept her balance. Her face right there, lips inches away from my hard, waiting cock. I looked at Sam on the bed. Lenore's legs were now straddling his hips, and he started to take her again, essentially doggie style. He moaned, licking his lips. The sound loud enough for me to hear, too-dry tongue passing over too-dry lips in an effort to wet both. It made me think of the dream I'd had of Sam sucking me off, my dick shining with his saliva, and I shuddered out of arousal as well as bewilderment. Why did I want this? Then Lenore shut off those thoughts as she bit lightly into my thigh. Not bringing much blood, but enough to make me moan loudly in pain and pleasure. I tried to keep any memories of my other dream, the one of Cam, out of my head. I wanted to enjoy this. I laid back in the chair, feeling her teeth and lips and tongue on my thigh, just feeling it, her soft hair tickling at my cock. Soon, Lenore would take her mouth to me in other ways, but for the time being, I let her suck the blood from my muscular thigh just for how it was turning me on even more. My dick was so hard, it almost pointed toward the ceiling on its own. Sammy watched, and I watched him. His hands stroking her hips and buttocks, he rocked into her. The motion shook the chair lightly. Creak, creak, creak of the chair and the bed in unison. Heavy breathing. Breathless moans. The wet sounds of Lenore sucking from my thigh and their lovemaking. It was intoxicating music. I watched as Sam's eyes passed from where Lenore was drinking to my hard cock. He licked his lips again. That made me wonder which he wanted more, and I felt sick with confusion for a moment. As I affectionately ran my fingers through her hair, Lenore raised her head and, upon giving me a naughty grin, moved her mouth half a foot to the right. At that first curling of her tongue around the head of my cock, I inhaled sharply, groaning out her name. "Lenore...!" Sam watched. The faster her head bobbed up and down, the faster and harder he began to fuck her. Moaning out her name, we came at roughly the same time. It must've given that girl quite the ego boost, two big, muscular guys reduced to rubble in her presence, cumming and crying, "Lenore! Oh God, Lenore!" together. Sweating, bucking, moaning and grunting. I came down her throat, and she swallowed it all like that's what she lived on instead of blood. Lenore, lifting her head, smiled at me again and licked her lips. Without saying a word, she rimmed my cock head with her tongue, making sure she got it all. Lenore disengaged herself from the panting puddle that was my brother, leaving him with a loving kiss. Stretching her nude body, she sauntered into the kitchen for a cup of animal blood. (It's what's for breakfast!) We both watched her go. I was still gazing at her swaying behind moving in the half-light when I sensed Sammy kneeling before me. When I turned my head to him, he gave me an apologetic look from under his bangs. "I'm kinda hungry," he said quietly, and nodded to my thigh, which was still bleeding a little. "Can I have a snack?" I didn't say anything, just nodded. As Sam lowered his head to my thigh and began to drink, I willed myself not to get aroused with every fiber of my being. Couldn't keep my hand from stealing to his head and stroking his hair lovingly, but I did not get excited. My hungry little brother, he drank of me deeply with his lips open wide, one hand behind my thigh to hold it to his mouth. Lenore stood in the kitchen doorway, leaning against the arch, and watched us silently. I slipped into their bed after that, and we all slept together once again without question. Lenore in the middle. ***** We got up sometime in the early afternoon. The plan was to, well, come up with a plan on how to get out of this with everyone alive. Or, undead. Whatever. Around dinnertime, Sammy started to exhibit signs of sickness. He was sitting on the edge of the bed with his fingers to the bridge of his nose, massaging it, and it worried me. After what we'd gone through only a few days before... "Sammy... you okay?" Sighing, he responded, "Just getting a little headache." We weren't sure if we could call in Bobby. Would he help us, or help us, then cut off Sam and Lenore's heads? Could he be convinced of their right to live, or would he side with hunters like Gordon? I liked to think that Bobby would be the same kind of hunters we'd turned out to be, but there was the fact that he was once our father's friend. Our father? Would have cut off their heads by now. I know that sounds crazy, a man killing his own son, but after what he'd whispered to me before the Yellow-Eyed Demon took his life in exchange for mine... "If Sammy becomes too dangerous, you may have to kill him, Dean. It would be your duty." I could never do that. Never. I'd never let it happen, either. Before anyone would be able to take out my brother, they'd have to go through me. Would Bobby feel the same as my dad would have? We might have to handle this alone. That's when Tenshi and Midori Nakamura first occurred to me. They were a team of cousins who mostly hunted the kind of monsters and demons that were indigenous to Asia. People had brought them over when they immigrated to America, sometimes by accident, sometimes on purpose. Just goes to show that the world over, people aren't so different. Anyway, that's what they specialize in, but they'd certainly take on some American-style vampires if I asked them. When I was 16 and Sam was 12, we stayed with the Nakamuras for a little while at their family home in California. Dad and Tenshi's father had us each choose a Japanese weapon and we were supposed to master it over the summer. Tenshi and Midori had both trained with us, and spent a great deal of time with Sammy. We had a lot of stellar times that summer. Over the years, we'd seen them off and on in our travels. You could say that we grew up together. Surely, they wouldn't be able to bear to hurt Sam. I might be counting on that. They were put on my Maybe list. After dinner, we had another one of those unexpected little obstacles that life seemed to love to throw at us lately. Like we didn't have enough to deal with already. A possibly master vampire and her band of loyal recruits coming after us and now this. Lenore and I were sitting at the table, discussing the different hunters we knew, and suddenly, Sam was throwing up in the bathroom. We ran to check on him and the toilet bowl was just full of blood. It was disgusting. Everything he'd just eaten, all of it came back up. "Sammy, I thought you were better," I said, referring to him being sick while we were snowed in. He replied by vomiting again. Once we were pretty sure he was done, and he'd been reduced to a mess, leaning on the toilet bowl panting, Lenore and I each draped an arm over our shoulders, got him up, and headed to the bedroom with him. His vamp teeth were out and his mouth was all bloody; I made a mental note to clean him up when we got to the bed. But that was easier said than done. Sammy's legs gave out halfway there. He just went down like a sack of brown-haired potatoes. Timber! My brother's a big guy, and we thought we had a good hold on him, but when he wants to fall, he pretty much falls hard. I mean, I tried to catch him... never mind, the guy fell. There was no support in his legs at that point. I hope you don't think I'm being flippant with the jokes. It's just that whenever the situation gets really bad and I'm going out of my head with worry for someone, I start in with the humor. I guess it's a defense mechanism, or something. "Sammy? God, Sammy? Come on, get up. Let's get to the bed," I told him, but I was practically begging. I could tell that there was something really wrong. Sam was so out of it. Lenore knew it was no use. "Can you carry him? I might be able to." Looking at her, that sounded absurd, but she had that hidden vampire strength. Wasn't like there was anybody around to gawk at a petite flower like her carrying a scarily tall guy around this time. My pride wouldn't let me allow her to cart Sammy to the bed, though. I got him turned over and my arms under his back and knees, but she had to help me get him up off the floor without throwing my fucking back out. Muscle weighs more than fat, you know. Sam was dead weight. He groaned and just hung in my arms, in and out of consciousness. Arms swaying and head lolled back. What the hell was wrong with him? When I put him on the bed, he revived a bit, and asked me what was going on. "I don't know, you tell me," I said. Her forehead creased with worry lines, Lenore responded, "I hope it isn't the sick calf." "What?" While she spoke, I cleaned up Sammy's mouth. She looked at me and then tried to explain. "In the hours after we left you, Sam and I helped ourselves to some lunch. There were cows out in a field, and he was just famished... I told him to stay away from the calf, that it looked sick. You know how an animal sometimes just doesn't look right... its eyes are off, it's lethargic..." "But he didn't listen." "Sort of. It was more a matter of he was biting while I was trying to warn him." "Yeah." I looked at my sick little brother, lying there helpless and half-conscious on the bed. "Sammy's been like that since he was vamped. Still trying to get control of his bloodlust." I sighed. "Have you ever seen anything like this before? What do we do now?" "Well, yeah, I've seen some sick vampires in my time... some who got that way the same way Sam did. There are different types of bovine diseases, and they each have their own incubation periods in vampires. Sometimes the symptoms get fucked up in creatures like Sam and me." She crossed her arms, studying him. "I'm not sure what to do. We need to observe him a bit longer. Then I may have some idea." "So we're just supposed to let him suffer until more symptoms show up?" I asked in disbelief. She shrugged. "What else can we do? Take him to a hospital?" I didn't like the sarcasm in her voice, but she was right. Of course she was right. We kept an eye on Sammy for the next few hours. Mostly, he slept, sometimes groaning, sometimes tossing and turning with discomfort written all over his face, other times coming awake for a short time and looking around, bewildered. "Dean? Where are we?" he'd ask weakly. "Nebraska. You're sick, Sammy. Get some rest, okay?" "But how'd I get sick?" The more hours that passed, the more slurred his speech became, the more he forgot, the more disoriented he grew. Lenore stood at the end of the bed, her arms crossed, watching him at these times. Her forehead creased with worry. I thought it had bottomed out when Sam woke up and asked me something that, even with all that had happened, still shocked me. "Dean..." His eyes searched the room. "Dean, where's Dad?" My heart hurt at that question. "He's just gone on a hunt, Sammy." He merely looked confused in response. I didn't think it could get any worse than that. But unfortunately, it can always get worse. Around midnight, Sam awakened; Lenore was sitting with him while I got something to eat. He looked around and began to blink profusely, rubbing his eyes. I had just come back into the room with my plate when he reached out and clawed at the air. "Dean?" There was panic in his voice. "Lenore? Dean!" Lenore put down her magazine, taking his searching hand. "We're here, Sam." He reached out with the other hand. It desperately clamped onto whatever it could reach, which turned out to be Lenore's knee. "Dean! Dean!" My brother was terrified. His eyes were open wide, looking through us, his breath coming fast and frantic. I put the plate down on the nearest surface and rushed to the bed. When my hand fell on Sammy's arm, he jumped like I'd startled him. "I'm here, Sammy." Now he reached out for me, eyes searching wildly. I sat on the edge of the bed and Sam sat up and hugged me so hard, I had issues with breathing. "Don't leave me, Dean! Don't leave me!" "Sam, what's the matter?" Lenore cried. I could tell by the look on her face that this was just another step in what she feared was happening to Sam. He whimpered, grabbing the back of my shirt in his fists. "I can't see! I've tried to clear my eyes, but it just stays black! All black! I can't see!" Lenore and I looked at each other, her face stricken with sympathy and worry. I'm sure mine was the same. For a while, I stroked his hair while he whimpered and cried, refusing to let go of me, begging me to tell him what was happening to him. I promised that the blindness was only temporary. For all I knew, I was lying, but what else could I say? It was like Sam was under the grip of some sort of elevated fever. Not that he felt hot, but that he acted delirious and childlike. Soon, he went limp in my arms. Unconscious again. After I laid him back down, I took Lenore by the arm and lead her to the other side of the room where we could talk without disturbing Sam too much. At some point, she had started crying. "You've seen this before, haven't you?" I questioned. Lenore nodded. She swiped at the tears running down her face. Tracing a finger under her eye, I gently wiped some of them away for her. She put her hand over mine, holding it to her cheek in an effort to take comfort in my touch. "Dean, I think it's some form of mad cow disease." I gawked at her. "What, Sam cooked up parts of the calf and had himself a nice, infected steak?" "Diseases are different in vampires. He could have caught it through the calf's blood. Anyway, I'm just speculating based on what I know. Most of his symptoms lead me to believe that's what it is. The blindness, the delirium, the weakness in his limbs - " "What happened when you saw this before?" Pausing, Lenore swallowed down a lump in her throat. "We couldn't find a cure. The vampire died." I also hesitated, choked up with emotion. "Vampires die?" "Dean..." She sighed heavily. "...mad cow turns your brain to mush. The vampire, he was suffering, in and out of a coma... we had to put him out of his misery." "You are not telling me that this is hopeless." "Actually, no, I'm not. It's just really, really close to 'up shit creek without a paddle'." Now I sighed. "Lenore, what do you mean?" "Okay, I've heard rumors that there is a way to cure a vampire of almost any sickness you can think of. We couldn't get it for this vampire I'm talking about because it involves... damn, it's dangerous, Dean." She shook her head, dubious of our chances. "What is it?" "We may be able to cure Sam if we can feed him the blood of a master vampire." That raised an eyebrow. "Like our stalker friend?" "Perhaps. If I'm even right about her. Anyway, Sam already drank her blood," Lenore pointed out. "He wasn't sick then. Besides, do you have any other ideas?" I asked. Nodding vigorously, Lenore replied, "There's a nest of vampires led by a master vamp about eighty, ninety miles from here, in South Dakota. I've never been there, just heard stories about it. If I go see him, maybe I can convince him to help us." In some ways, it was a better bet than trying to find this vampire that was stalking us. She definitely wouldn't help us of her own volition. In other ways... "How are we going to persuade him to do that? We've got to have something he wants." "I don't know just yet. We should call his ranch and talk to him before we do anything else." I gaped at that. "You've even got the master vampire's number? Less than a hundred miles away from a major center of hunters and the dude's giving out his phone number..." "He didn't give it out; it took me years to track that down," Lenore protested. "And what do you mean, a major center of hunters?" "We're not that far from Harvelle's Roadhouse." Apparently, she'd heard of it. "Oh, nice choice of locations for us to hide out, Winchester," Lenore said with a sarcastic roll of her eyes. "Never mind that now; get the guy on the phone and let's - " This was about when Sammy let out the loudest, most bloodcurdling scream I've ever heard - I'm serious, I almost wet my pants. Lenore and I both jumped about ten feet off the ground. Sam stumbled up out of bed and ran blindly into the nearest wall. Rebounding off it, he held his head for a moment and started lurching around the room on wobbly legs, knocking a small table aside on his way to us. We, of course, ran to him and tried to impede his course, but he wouldn't stop. It was like standing in the way of a freight train. Even with those weak legs, my brother was still a force to be reckoned with. He began screaming, "Jessica's on fire, oh God, Jessica's on fire, Dean! Help, help! Jessica's on fire!" When I think about it, it still brings tears to my eyes. I pushed against him to try to keep him from slamming himself into the dresser. "Sam, no! Sammy, no, stop! Jessica's not burning. She stopped burning a long time ago; she's dead, Sam!" Although he backed me into the dresser, Sam stopped his forward motion for a moment, his eyes searching everywhere. Tears streamed down his face. A couple of times, he seemed to look right at me; I think he was conscious of where I was. I held his sobbing face in my hands, hoping it would ground him. "Dean, she's on fire. My girl's on fire! The demon is hurting her. He's hurting her!" I shook my head, but of course, he couldn't see it. "No, no, Sam. Jessica's been dead for more than a year. She's not hurting anymore." "What's he talking about?" Lenore asked, holding onto Sam's arm. Sam wrenched himself out of our grasp with a yank of his arm and a turn of his body. He ran into the TV, knocking it to the floor. "No, Dean, oh God, can't you see her?! Jessica's burniiiiiiiing!" Lenore and I both grabbed onto him and tried to drag him back to the bed. He began screaming, pounding his fists against the wall. When he reached up and raked down the curtains, I became terrified that he would walk right through the window, so I whirled him around to face me. What I saw was a face full of rage and vampire teeth. He came at me growling, following the smell of blood to my neck, and sank his fangs in. Next thing I knew, I was pinned to the dresser, Sammy downing my blood as fast as he could get it. Lenore pressed on the sides of his jaw to retract his fangs. Before he could recover, she yanked him off me and used all of her supernatural strength to toss him backward onto the bed. Sammy landed on his back. The bed shook so hard I thought it was going to collapse. She leapt on top of him and held his arms down. As he growled and gnashed his teeth like an animal, Lenore struggled to keep him prone. "Dean, tie him down!" she yelled. I was still standing there with my hand to my neck, but the shock broke and I was able to get the rope out of my bag. While she sat on his chest and grappled with his arms, I bound the rope around one wrist, ran it under the bed, and then bound the other wrist, so he was tied down to the mattress. Now that Sam couldn't move as much, Lenore started to stroke his temples and mewl soothingly to him. He, at first, growled at her like a wild animal, but slowly began to calm down. I put a towel to my neck. When I moved closer to the bed, Lenore shook her head at me. "Stay back for now. He can smell you." She resumed her efforts to calm Sammy. "Oh, nonono, it's alright. It's alright. Calm down. I'm here. Shhhhhh." I sat on the opposite bed. After a few minutes, Sam was calm and just staring off into space with glassy eyes, occasionally making a small noise. Lenore gingerly got off of him. She came over to check on me. "Are you alright?" "I'll survive." A part of me was terrified for Sammy; he's been out of control, lost in his own delirium, and far rougher with me than he ever had been before. Things went from urgent to really fucking desperate. "We've got to get Sammy that cure as soon as possible. This master vampire you've heard about, what's his name?" She replied, "Sabriel." "Sabriel? Sabriel what?" "That's all." Lenore shrugged. "The guy goes by only one name?" She just nodded. I rolled my eyes. A pretentious, arrogant, one-named master. "Just great. Our lives are in the hands of someone who thinks he's Prince." Additional Notes: I just wanted to clarify something from this chapter. I actually find it kind of unbelievable when people use the "we live an unconventional life killing demons so why not fuck each other" excuse for Wincest. In my opinion, that would not lead to Wincest; a person would try to find a sense of routine and normalcy as much as possible if their life was about killing demons. They wouldn't endeavor to make it weirder. If anything in their lives was going to lead to Wincest, IMO, it would be them living in such close quarters all their lives, the fact that often Sam and Dean have no one but each other, and the emotional isolation of the constant moving. Just wanted to explain that since I've mentioned before in discussions about the show that certain excuses for Wincest involving their unconventional lives are, to me, bullshit. Yes, some are, but some others make at least a little sense. To be continued 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | Lacerated Sky Chp 8 (c) 2006+ Demented Stuff/The Pleasure of the People Supernatural is (c) 2005+ Kripke Enterprises, Wonderland, & Warner Brothers/The CW Television. Back to it's so WRONG or Back to El Enciclopedia de Vampirica Comment on this chapter on LiveJournal Comment on this chapter by e-mail |