The tires splashed water aside as the pair pulled into the motel. The shorter of the two already stood out of the rain at the door to their off-freeway motel room, "I knew saving that guy was gonna cost me." he watched as his brother fished the unconscious guy out of the back of the black '67 Impala, "Aww, c'mon Sam! You're getting Baby all wet inside!" he balls up his fist and almost hits the wall, but just releases it in a frustrated sigh.
The taller brother, now holding a limp body in both arms, looks to his frustrated sibling, "If you care so much you could help me bring this guy inside."
"Or you could have just left him there and let the police deal with him." the shorter brother rushed over, less concerned with the life in Sam's arms and more so with state of his vehicle's upholstery. Shutting the door to the rain, he looks expectantly at his brother who returns the same look. "What?"
"The door Dean, maybe you could open it?" Sam nods to the motel door.
"Yeah, well, maybe you could open it if you'd have left that guy back in the succubus den where we found him."
"We couldn't just leave him back there, who knows what they did to him. The police aren't going to drop him off in the ER and tell the doctors to treat him for succubus bites."
"Don't 'we' me, Sam. I would have left him there." Dean says, finally getting the motel room door open.
"Yeah, apparently." Sam whispers mostly to himself, finally setting the guy down on one of the empty beds.
A small gurgling is heard and not from the near corpse on the bed. Dean looks down at his stomach. "I think I saw a diner a couple miles back, want me to bring you some rabbit food?"
Sam just sighs as he looks the pale body over again, checking to make sure there's still a pulse. Satisfied that he's found one, he starts checking other vitals.
Dean, comfortable with being ignored, starts gathering himself back up to head out. The sound of rain intensifies when he opens the door, "I'll just leave you here to deal with... this." And with that the room is quiet again, the rumble of the Impala outside eventually fading off into the distance.
Sam carefully set the still unconscious body into the tub of their small motel room. He started to remove the stranger's tattered clothes. First the shirt, then the pants. Better to leave the rest on for now. He began to reach towards the shower knob, but then thought better of it. Not wanting to get his own clothes soaked, he took off his button down shirt and hung it over the towel rack.
This time, he started the water. He was hoping for two things. One, he wanted to wake this guy up and two, he wanted get all the grunge and dirt off see if there were any bites or wounds on him. The water came down warm, surprising for this rinky dink little motel. Sam was used to having to tough it out through cold showers. Not always because the motel didn't have any hot water, but usually because he let Dean go first.
The guy wasn't waking up, so Sam took the opportunity to clean off the smudges of grime that seemed to be all over him. After a few minutes spent cleaning him off, Sam hadn't found a single wound. Hoping to get some reaction, he turned the water down to cold. Nothing. Was this guy dead? Did he pass on while he was cleaning him up?
Searching for answers, Sam put his ear to the guy's chest. He was still breathing and he could hear a faint heartbeat, but as he rested his head on this stranger's bare chest Sam could feel a heat begin to build. A few seconds later he pulled away, afraid he was going to be burnt. At the last second, before he lifted his head he heard the guy's heart skip a beat.
Recoiling and clutching his ear, Sam let out a gasp of pain. The cold water on the side of his face was an awful contrast. The hunter soon realized he wasn't the only one who has let out a gasp. The stranger was quickly trying to take in air, but under the shower half of what he was getting was water.
Sam quickly shut off the shower, then tried to get the guy leaned forward so he can cough out anything he might have breathed in. After several minutes of hacking coughs and sputtering the stranger finally settled into even breathing. They locked gazes for a few moments, Sam realizing he hadn't seen the guy's eyes before now. A haunting pale violet stared back at him.
Breaking eye contact, the stranger started to look himself over. Realizing how odd it must feel to be practically naked and wet in front of someone you've never met, Sam snagged a towel off the rack and wrapped it around the guy. Then, getting up to leave, he propped himself up on the tub, but just as he was starting to stand he felt a hand clasp onto his.
In a shaky voice the stranger finally spoke, "Please... stay..."
"Uh... okay... sure." Sam's reply was calm, but uncertain.
"Where... where... am I?" the voice wasn't any stronger, it sounded like it was taking all of his effort just to push the words out.
"A motel." Sam decided to take it slow, didn't want to overload the guy. He did offer a quick, but reassuring, "You're safe now."
"Thank..." the stranger's muscles tensed as he tried to finish the simple phrase "you..."
Sam looked the guy over. At first, he was trying to see if there were any signs of possible internal damage. There was no telltale bruising or anything that looked broken. In fact the stranger seemed to be in good shape. Some nice definition, a little bit of hair that he could see, but nothing too unruly. The hand grasping his was comforting and he didn't want to leave it. Sam realized his eyes were steadily drifting downward just as he basically forced himself to stop looking.
"So..." the weak word pulled Sam's gaze back, "hungry..." every attempt to speak still a struggle.
"My brother will be back with some food soon-" Sam trails off as he stares into the violet eyes again. He wants to say more, wants to tell this guy that he's going to take care of him. He'll nurse him back to health and protect him from anything their weird, wild world of supernatural abuse could throw at them.
Then it was happening. He wasn't sure when it started, but it was too late to take back. Sam could feel the lips on his, warm, soft lips. Moose's free hand grabbing at the stranger's side and pulling him closer. He could feel the cold frail flesh slowly warming in his palm.
A slam of the motel room's front door shook Sam. Thrown off-balance he fell onto the bathroom floor, his hand slipping out from under the stranger's. Sam looked at the guy, confused. The stranger seemed weirdly flush. His skin having gone from pale to a soft pink.
Dean was in the doorway of the bathroom now, burger in hand. He looked down at his brother, shirtless on the tile. "You ok, Sammy?" the words fighting past a mouthful of meat.
Sam popped to his feet, avoiding using the tub this time. Snatched his shirt from the towel rack and was already buttoning it back up as he squeezed past his brother.
Dean swallowed his bite, "Sammy?" a questioning eyebrow raise.
"I'm fine Dean, I'm fine." Sam rushed through the words as he threw stuff back into his bag.
"Going somewhere?"
"I need..." Sam wasn't sure what he needed other than to get out of the motel room and away from the stranger, but he needed to tell Dean something he would believe, "...to do some research." It wasn't a total lie, Sam did want to know what the hell just happened.
"Well, you're not taking Baby."
"Fine. I'll call you if I find anything out." And with that the motel room door slammed again.
Dean shrugged and took another bite of his burger, "Nerd." turning around, he saw what he assumed used to be dirty corpse Sam had drug into the motel room. Looked like he was awake and health now, though Dean felt weird with the guy just standing there in a towel. He nodded to a packed bag at the foot of one of the beds, "Why don't you put some clothes on, kid. Just grab whatever works."
The hunter sat down at the little table in the motel room, working on his burger and picking at the fries. They were a little greasy and limp, but ketchup seemed to fix that well enough. Looking up from his food only made Dean want to look back down again. The stranger was changing into the clothes right there in the middle of the room, "You can change in the bathroom, if you want." Dean was very focused on his fries now. He looked up again when he heard the bathroom door shut. "Kid's certainly not modest..."
A couple minutes later the bathroom door opened back up and Dean had company again. The guy had taken a simple t-shirt and some jeans. Soon he was sitting on the edge of the bed, facing towards Dean, but not really looking at him. Feeling awkward Dean decided it was better to talk than be silent, "So, kid, what do I call you?"
The stranger looked up at him, confusion on his face for a moment. Looking back to the carpet, he shook off his perplexed look before answering, "Uh..." His voice was more even now, "Asher."
"Asher, huh? Where do you get a name like that?"
"I..." a too long pause, "I don't know."
Great, kid doesn't even know where he's from. Damnit, Sam. Leaving me here with a headcase. He looked at the paper bag on the table that had Sam's useless salad and his own sweet sweet pie in it. He pulled the bowl of burger toppings out of the bag and tossed them down on the opposite side of the table, "There's some food here, if you're hungry." Ugh, he just called a salad food.
Asher walked over to the table slowly, drug out a chair and slumped into it. He looked at the leafy greens through their clear plastic lid. A packet of dressing flopped on top of it and he looked up at the ruggedly handsome hunter who threw it there. "Trust me kid, you're gonna need that." some advice from Dean.
Asher's hands seemed to figure out how to assembles the salad and even how to use a fork and actually eat some of it. He knows what a fork is, interesting. And a salad actually. Why is it so easy to understand basic concepts, but he couldn't muster up who he is or where he comes from. Frustration built as he tried to focus on who he is, on any memory at all. When nothing came he threw his fork down into his salad.
"Woah, buddy, I don't like greens either, but you don't have to-" Dean cuts himself short when he see's Asher's face. He tried to think of any kind of small talk that might fill the awkward silence that was settling in and before he could make an attempt he was sure wouldn't help anything he was saved by the bell. A ring actually, Sammy was calling him. "Be right back, kid."
He stepped out of the motel room and into the night, "Sammy?"
"Dean-" and before Sam can get a word out edgewise.
"What the hell, Sam. You can't just leave me alone with some strange guy that you wanted to save. What am I supposed to do here?"
"Dean that's what I've been trying to loo-"
"No, Sam, get your ass back here. This guy doesn't even know who is. Do you hear what I'm telling you?"
"Dean, just stop for a secon-"
"Just be glad that I have a warm, flaky, heavenly piece of pie waiting for me in the room."
"DEAN!" Sam waits to see if Dean's actually going to listen, "There's something weird about that guy."
"Damnit, Sammy. I knew it! I told you to just leave him-"
"Dean! I think maybe those succubuses... succubii..."
"Succubitc-"
"Whatever. I think they might have done something to him. I'm looking into it, just..." a long pause, "be careful Dean."
"Be careful of what? You're not making any sense, Sam."
"Just be careful ok. You'll figure it out."
Dean sighed in frustration as the line went silent. A few seconds later one of the columns feels some of his wrath as his fist slams into it with a solid thud. Well, at least there was pie waiting inside for him.
Dean opened the door, slipped back into his seat, reached into the paper bag and pulled out... nothing. Where in the hell was his pie? That's when he looked over to Asher. He didn't know how to react, some stranger was eating his pie. His pie.
He held it in for half a second before snatching up the half-eaten piece of pie. "Damnit, kid, you ate all the meringue already." Dean was full of frustrated sighs today, "Just finish it." He pushed it back across the table.
Asher hung his head and whispered a soft, "Sorry..."
"You ate my pie, man. My pie."
"It looked so good. I knew it would be sweet. I didn't mean to be rude..." Asher wasn't sure how these thoughts connected and he was sure they didn't quite represent any actual communication either. He also didn't realize that the pie could be anyone's until Dean pointed it out. He felt bad, he wasn't sure why, but he did.
Dean could see the guy was completely confused and now he felt bad and didn't know why. The room was just filled with awkward uncomfortable confusion. After about a minute or two of this Dean couldn't look at the unfinished piece of pie anymore, "C'mon kid, at least finish it." this didn't come out angry, it was almost a gentle pleading, "Seriously, just finish the pie. It needs to be eaten."
Asher slowly and carefully picked up the plastic fork and used it to cut off a little piece of pie watching Dean intently for any sign of approval or disapproval. The last thing he wanted was to upset one of the people who seemed to have saved him.
He had been trying to figure out who he was, but he couldn't really remember what had happened to him. Trying to recall memories made him dizzy. Before he could recall anything solid his brain was awash with pain, misery, and torture. So, he had basically stopped trying.
Dean didn't seem to be watching Asher. Instead, he was focused on the pie. Watching it disappear slowly but surely seemed to at least appease him, so Asher made sure that happened. As he watched Asher chew on the last bite of pie, Dean realized that he was actually pretty tired. Killing that entire den of sex demons was really rough. He was sore in places he didn't expect and he felt kind of gross. And he sure as hell didn't want to talk or think about the guy's stare or emotional state. It was definitely time for a shower.
"Alright kid, I'm hitting the shower. Feel free to take Sam's bed over there. You don't have to sleep, but you do have to stay quiet." Feeling he might have been a bit harsh, but not really sorry about it, he added, "Go ahead and get comfortable or whatever." Dean stepped into the bathroom intent on forgetting about the stranger he left in the motel room for at least thirty minutes.
He went through his normal routine. Stripping down, he checked himself for bruises, cuts and scrapes. Looks like he'd earned a few earlier that night. Dean started the water, which was actually nice and warm, and amped it up to near scalding. After a thorough self-cleaning, he stood soaking under the fiery spray until the Motel water heater quit on him.
He dried off, less than carefully tended to his wounds, then wrapped his towel around his waist. When he was alone on a case he usually slept naked. With Sam around he felt weird sleeping nude. Sure, they were brothers, but that's not a license for nudism. He probably should have felt weird or guilty even thinking about sleeping in the buff next to this strange guy they saved, but he was determined not to let this guy bother him.
He cracked the door and looked into the motel room. Asher was sprawled out on what would have been Sam's bed with the blanket and sheet all crumpled on the floor. Looks like the kid had the same idea Dean did and less decency about it. At least he was facing away from Dean.
Dean did his best to move silently through the motel room. Glancing at Asher again, he realized he didn't want to wake up to the guy sprawled like he was, but facing the other way. Dean picked up the blanket and sheet and laid them on top of the sleeping stranger, accidentally brushing his knuckles against the guy's bare shoulder in the process.
Dean thought about how soft and warm that skin felt. He knew he lingered over that thought a bit longer than he should have, but he wasn't going to obsess over it or anything. It made sense, the kid wasn't a hunter and he did recently have a bath of his own. Dean finished tucking Asher in, which was more than he intended to do in the first place, then he knelt down and kissed him on his forehead. He wasn't sure why, but it felt right.
Not giving it another thought, Dean fell into his own bed, dropped the towel onto the floor, and wrapped up in his blanket. It wasn't long before sleep took him to dreams that were neither good nor bad. The only thing that would stick with him would be a pale violet color.
