ULTIMATE DISCLAIMER: Every content, character, plot etc. that anyone is able to recognize as other's property is NOT mine. I have no intention to get into any trouble involving law and money.

ULTIMATE WARNING: So far most of my stories are turning out to be SLASH and MPREG. So they may contain mature, Male/Male Relationship and not so graphic sex scenes between two men. If you can't stand these or don't want to read them, please leave this story behind!

AU, OOC. Very little SLASH, almost non-existent.

Hey, guys! You were interested what would happen later. Well, this was the outcome.

My Muse, Missy had been in a soap opera-type mood, so sorry if that bothers you!

Alright, have fun reading!

How could you?

"I'm not done with you!"

"Leave me alone!"

SLAM!

Heavy breathing and, with a tiny creak, rush of water filled the tiny bathroom of the motel room in the middle of nowhere. The light of the cracked lamp landed on a tense back, sliding down bunched up muscles hidden by a grey T-shirt. Biceps rippled as fingers grasped the edge of the sink tightly, white from the force. The light fabric stretched at the deep inhales, the threat of ripping apart looming above it. Chestnut-brown locks glinted silkily in the golden glow, the end of the hairs tickling the back of the neck as they moved with the heaving chest.

Sam Winchester had his eyes tightly shut to try and keep himself calm. His temper was trying to get the best of him. He felt the whisper of a past hunger attempting to flare up, only to be squashed by something strong. He wanted to cool himself down, splashing some water on his face, but he was a little afraid that if he let go of the sink, he would start throwing and breaking everything within reach.

A sudden crackling reached his ears and he looked up: his mouth fell open at the sight. The face of his reflection was cleanly sliced into two with a diagonal line, as the mirror cracked. As Sam forced himself to calm down, the crack, to his enormous astonishment, slowly disappeared, mending the mirror perfectly as it went. After a few seconds and some more crackling, the mirror was full and unharmed, just like before Sam stepped into the bathroom.

Ever since the long absence and sudden reappearance of Ruby, things have changed. Mostly inside him. When after the long suffering from the craving he'd finally had the blood, even more than he was hoping for, he felt something warm fill him, chasing the pain and the hunger away. It wouldn't have been any different than before, if he hadn't realized later what had been missing from it: the greed for more power. At first he hadn't given it much thought, not even after the next couple of occasions. However, the more he'd met Ruby, the slower the cravings had returned and the more coherent he'd remained during the drinking.

Soon he'd noticed the lack of that bitter aftertaste he's always felt when he was drinking demon-blood, which he assumed was the sulfur. At first he had let it go, a strange sense of calmness washing over him every time as small fingers had petted his hair. However, as he had become more alert after each and every feeding, he could see past the feeling. He hadn't fought it, no; it'd felt so good to be treated so gently and kindly. But it'd reared his attention.

Every day Sam had felt the piercing gaze of his brother, like Dean was waiting for him to flip out or drop dead any minute now. He hadn't understood it and he still didn't, but it had gotten so unnerving that Sam couldn't help but snap at the man tonight. It was enough of a sparkle to ignite the fire of arguing, exploding into shouts, only a hair's breadth away from throwing punches.

However, this wasn't the only reason for their heated fight.

For a few days, Sam had noticed secret phone calls between his brother and an unknown contact. He'd never heard the actual conversation, but it had peeked his interest. Whom could Dean possibly converse with? And about what? What was so private that not even Sam could know about it?

The phone calls, he noticed, had occurred every time he'd been feeling his hunger start raging inside him, and stopped right the next day after Ruby's visit. Becoming more and more himself and less and less corrupted by the taint inside him, he couldn't help but notice that peculiarity. And before tonight, he couldn't tie them together.

Having a hunch about these oddities, he'd decided to act as if he'd been getting hungry for blood again. He'd been shuddering now and then and begun looking for an invisible enemy, just like he remembered he had been acting at times like this. His act had been convincing apparently: a brief nap later in the car he'd woken up to the usual noises of a gas station. When he'd heard his brother's voice, he'd decided to pretend he'd still been sleeping:

'He started it again… I don't know, it seems pretty serious… Are you sure? … Yeah, maybe we should wait. At least until he calls you…'

That had been the moment, when he could put two and two together. But there was still a question. Why would Dean suddenly start working with Ruby? Was it really Ruby? Judging by the blood and the lack of sulfur in it, Sam began to doubt that. But then, who was it? Who came every night he had a craving? He had to find out. So, he had made his choice. Which brought him back to the bathroom and reality.

Sam looked at his reflection again, jaw clenching in anger again. He fished his phone out of his pocket and dialed the familiar number. The phone beeped several times before going to voicemail, as usual. After the signing beep, he spoke:

"Ruby…" his voice was shaking from anger, but as he softened his tone it became more strained and weaker. "I need it… Meet me… Please… I can't take it… Come here quickly… I need blood…" Sam's words choked as his throat closed from anger and anxiety. How should he handle this situation? The beep from the phone startled him and he put it away to think.

First he had to find out who was coming to him every time. He will have to use force if it will be necessary. From there he will have to go with his instincts. Taking a deep breath and casting a last wary glance at the mended mirror, he walked out of the bathroom, shutting the light off.

He was momentarily dazed from the sudden darkness he was greeted with. The bedroom was completely black, the lamps switched off and the drapes pulled shut, not letting any light in. Sam blinked a few times, trying to get used to the dark, all the while staggering as if he was dizzy from the craving. He had to play his part well, if he wanted to find out the truth.

He slowly stumbled to the bed and fell onto the mattress, pushing himself against the headboard with small whimpers like he was in pain. He quickened his breath, acting exhausted from the simple task, and closed his eyes, willing himself not to slip until the right moment.

Soon he heard a small shuffle at his side: the small figure of "Ruby" was standing there, holding the strap of a backpack on her shoulder. Out of the corner of his eyes, Sam noticed that Dean's bed was empty. Where could he be?

The backpack dropped to the ground and the girl straddled his stretched legs. He began panting and leaned into the hand caressing his cheek, careful to brush his nose against the veins in the thin wrist. The girl smelled divine for him. Not like a demon or his favorite food. This was something… unique. The scent was a fragment of a perfume and mostly the soft skin. He couldn't help but take another big sniff of it.

"Ruby…" he whispered breathlessly. The girl pressed a kiss onto his lips, ordering him to be patient. The indistinguishable sound of a knife sliding out of its sheath reached his ears then a soft whoosh indicated that it was lifted up. Sam knew that now came the part where the girl would slide the blade into thin skin and through blood vessels. But now, he was ready.

A slap of skin on skin echoed in the silent motel room.

"You shouldn't have done this" Sam growled dangerously, gripping the wrist tightly, his hold causing the other's fingers to tighten around the handle. With a swift move, he lifted the girl up, turned her around and pressed her up against the wall. Slapping the girl's hand against the hard concrete, he smiled satisfied at the clang of the knife landing on the floor and the whimper of pain from his victim.

"NO!"

The sudden light blinded Sam for a second, but it was enough: he was grabbed by the neck and pulled away from the girl. He growled angrily when the thin wrist slipped out of his hold as well as the slim waist he had his arm around. He tried to shake his attacker off, bucking violently, but a familiar voice penetrated the fog of fury in his mind:

"Stop it, Sammy! Calm down!"

"Dean?" he choked out, shocked for the first time that night. His plan was well-made. The only factor missing from it was his brother. He felt disappointment bloom in his heart. How could he have done this to him? He began fighting more ferociously, but Dean held him firmly.

"Let me GO!" he bellowed, but to no avail. Dean's hold only tightened around him, now pinning Sam's arms down with his free one.

"Shh, calm down" Dean soothed quietly. Sam cursed his little brother instincts for letting that tone take over his mind, seizing his efforts to break free. He slowly relaxed in his brother's hold, taking deep breaths. Dean carefully turned him away and pushed him back, planting himself between Sam and the girl, who had collapsed onto the floor, seemingly boneless from the sudden attack. Dean was holding his hands up, ready to grab Sam if he suddenly went berserk again.

"Now" Dean started softly, "let me explain…"

"Explain?" Sam shouted incredulously. "You can explain why you tried to fool me? Explain why you work with a demon against me? Why you stabbed me in the back?"

Dean's face was contorted with fury, but he visibly fought himself to snap back at Sam's accusations.

"I don't work with a demon" he answered as calmly as he could.

"Then who is she?" Sam roared, stabbing a finger towards the crumpled form against the wall. For a fleeting moment Sam saw Dean's eyes widen in surprise, before the look hid away behind the mask of indifference. Silence stretched further and further, as Dean tried to think up an answer, the usual frown deepening every second. Sam started getting impatient and he was already opening his mouth to vent some more, when the form on the floor moved.

The girl sat up, silky ebony-black waves tumbling down the lean back, the golden lamplight glinting on them in navy blue. Sam for a minute lost the breath in his lungs, as the girl stood up shakily, leaning against the wall for support. The black tank top hugged the slim waist tightly, accentuating the curves. The gap between the top and the black jeans showed the skin stretching on slightly protruding hipbones. The legs of the jeans followed the tank top's lead on the legs, ending in black, high-heeled, leather boots.

Sam blinked a few times and noticed Dean staring at the girl, too. Although his brother's eyes were filled with worry, a pinch of lust constantly broke forward. It made Sam's skin crawl and heart burn with… jealousy?

The girl then cautiously turned around, head lowered, face hidden behind the curtain of black waves. Finally, Sam heard a deep inhale and the girl looked up.

It was as if someone pulled a rug out from under Sam's feet. He instantly recognized the emerald eyes that were currently looking up at him terrified.

"Harry?" he breathed and Harry gave a tiny, meek nod. "B… How… Wh…" he stuttered, completely shocked by what was just revealed. All this time he was drinking Harry's blood! And Dean let him!

"Sam" Dean spoke gently. "Please, understand that we did this for your own good!"

"For my-" Sam started, but something else caught his attention. "'We'? You, too?" Dean nodded hesitantly. "My own brother…" Sam felt his eyes tear up, but he pushed it down.

"Sam" Harry spoke finally, stepping closer. Sam felt a shiver run down his spine at the sweet, kind voice. Delicious like his blood… He quickly focused back to the words. "It was my idea. Dean didn't want to participate… at first. We couldn't watch you destroy yourself with all this. We had to stop it. Please, try to understand!" As Harry took another step closer, Sam stumbled back from him, shaking his head in disbelief. He didn't notice the hurt flitting over Harry's face at his reaction.

"How could you do this to me?" Sam choked out brokenly. "How could you lie to me?"

"Like you didn't lie to me!" Dean snapped, losing his temper. Sam flinched but glared back angrily.

"Sam, please" Harry spoke again. "Believe me, I'm begging you. This was for your own good. We just wanted to help…"

"I didn't need your help!" Sam shouted furiously. "I'm a grown man, if you hadn't noticed yet! I can take care of myself! I was fine without you-"

"Yeah" Dean interrupted his brother angrily. "Because you wandering the streets half out of your head with hunger, looking for your fix is your definition of 'fine'! You throwing up your stomach every day is perfectly normal!"

Sam charged at Dean with a feral growl, but a sudden force pushed him backwards.

"STOP IT!"

The brothers looked at Harry, the young man's scream still echoing in the room, only the sudden boom of thunder drowning it out. Harry lowered his outstretched hand and his eyes filled with sympathy towards Sam, who had to avert his gaze before he could break down.

"Sam" Harry spoke, his voice softer than ever, "I know how hard it must be-"

"You don't know anything!" Sam snapped at the young man, ignoring the pain in his heart at the sight of those emerald irises tearing up.

"Yes, I do" Harry was almost whispering now, like he was crooning to a wild, terrified animal, not wanting it to flee. "I know what it feels like when you lose someone you love. When you lose the only person who ever meant family to you. I know the grief it brings. I had to face it, too."

"You don't know anything" Sam repeated defiantly, but his voice now wavered. He buried his fingers into his brown locks, not able to bear the two sets of eyes pinned upon him.

"The only difference between me and you" Harry continued like he hadn't heard Sam, "is that I had proper help to deal with my grief. You didn't. I tried at first to bring that person back or at least see him and talk to him again, but I failed. Just like you. But I had friends to help me deal with my loss. You just ran into the bad person at the time."

Sam backed away from the two until his back hit the wall then leaning onto it he slowly slid to the ground. All the while his face was hidden by his fingers.

"You couldn't grieve properly" Harry said, approaching the distressed man carefully and kneeling next to him. "Ruby just fed your anger and your want for revenge. He steered you towards the dark side. You were so close to the border. We found a way to avoid that without taking the chance of revenge away from you. We knew that was your way to finally let go of the past."

"We couldn't tell you" Dean spoke calmly. "In your condition back then, we were afraid that you would take it the wrong way, that you would think we wanted to deceive you and you would run away. I'm so sorry, Sammy, but it was the only thing we could think of. I don't want to lose the only family I have."

The two could see the shaking throughout Sam's body. In the silence wedging itself into the conversation the rapping of raindrops on the window filled the room. However, as the pause stretched further and further, the room was starting to vibrate from the anger still pouring off of Sam's trembling form in waves.

"Sam" Harry spoke soothingly, "I would never do anything to harm you." He laid a hand on the man's shoulder.

SLAP!

Harry flinched back in shock, his pale arm reddening already as Sam angrily hit it away. He startled at the steely, cold glare that was sent towards him.

"You touch me again and I'll kill you" Sam threatened in a low, dangerous voice. Harry just stared at him for a second then his face crumpled. Jumping up the young man raced to the motel room's door, ripped it open and disappeared behind the curtain of raindrops. Dean's heart broke for his friend, whose form slowly melted into the blur of darkness, leaving behind only the echo of a soft broken sob.

The End

So, how was it?

Missy began screaming bloody murder when I suggested to stop with the third installation of this little series, so I will write another sequel to all of this. Hence the little ending I made for this one.

Alright, Read and Review!

See you soon!