Title: Lament
Warnings: general spoilers, plus Blood Lust and I Know What You Did Last Summer
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.
Author's Note: I have never been this proud of a fic. Seriously, I love it.
I'm a broken biscuit / From the cookie jar / I'm a total misfit / In the puzzle that's so far
I stand under the weight of your words / Hoping you won't find me
I'm terrified of everything I've heard / Don't swallow
- Sia, "Broken Biscuit"
There was something ominous about the way the rain plastered the leaves against the forest floor. The close proximity of the trees blocked more of the rain from falling, but in places the rain came through quick and hard, the wind spraying mist in the direction of both men as they trekked through the forest, doing their best to track the animal they were fallowing. Animal. It was a vampire. A fucking blood sucker who'd mutilated farmers over the past four months. The Winchester brother had realized what was causing the desecration of human flesh after the first month, with four people dead. Three men and a stable girl, working her way on the farm for her degree in animal husbandry or something like that, Dean hadn't really been paying attention to the talking breasts. The vampires looked like they were running, because honestly there was no way one fang could do that sort of damage in one months time. It had to have help from the rest of the nest. The brothers had finally caught up with the things in Montana, with the death toll at 16 people; ten men, 5 women and a little boy, who looked like he had been killed by accident, his body positioned in the hay, blood pooling down his face and soaking into the hay underneath him, still dripping on the floor by the time Sam and Dean arrived. Sam had almost thrown up. Almost. Dean locked himself in the bathroom for a hour and a half in the shower, burning hot water turning ice cold, and he didn't move from his spot underneath the spray. Long after his knees buckled and his teeth started chattering. They were both in this to kill.
Sam had found the blood trail by accident. They were heading back to the farm where the latest victim was killed, a 48 year old man, body unceremoniously sprawled on the ground, limbs twisted, coated in blood and manure. His blue eyes had fogged over, staring wide and terrified. His jugular was practically ripped out of this throat. It had been hungry. After the boy's death there hadn't been any killings for three weeks, Dean had thought maybe they were dead, the trail was cold and broken, nothing left of their vampire nest. Then Jacob Goldstein was killed like a starving animal would kill something and they were back on the trail again, neither of them voice their relief that they were close by and could get this thing. They wanted to get these things, wanted every last one of their fucking heads on spikes, like totems or trophies. When Sam saw the blood on one of the leaves leading away from Goldstein's body it was like a sigh from heaven…or whatever.
That's when it started to rain. Sam's hair was plastered to his face, soaking into his clothes, the bite of the wind on his back making him angry and predatory. This? This was the end of the line. Both men stopped at a fork in the road, looking from one path to the other. The drag marks had stopped a while ago, so the thing could be anywhere. Probably on it's way back to the nest. Dean looked over at Sam, who looked back, rain soaked machete glittering in the gray light. They silently decided they would split up and parted ways slowly, carefully, fucking methodically. Sam taking the right path, Dean taking the left. It was getting darker, and they would have a disadvantage in the dark. Sam tried not to dwell on it, making his way through the forest and suddenly stopped as a smear of blood caught his eyes. He backtracked slightly, reaching out to touch the blood, still wet and warm. Heart pounding in his chest he realized they had been played, both of them. If Dean hadn't realized it yet, he'd be dead. They had been so blinded with rage and pain that they hadn't stopped to think that maybe they were tracking something that was tracking them back.
Sam moved the blood around on his fingers, glancing out of the corner of his eyes, waiting for the fang to strike. He couldn't call Dean, that would be suicide. All he could do was wait. He could feel something behind him, in the cluster of the trees, watching him. Something predatory caught Sam in the gut and his grip on his machete tightened, his arm tensing, ready to strike at the first possible-
Something flashed out of the corner of his eye and he spun around, arm rising automatically when he found himself shoved against the tree he had been standing in front of, hitting his head hard and knocking the wide out of him with a grunt. He saw blood stained teeth and skin and watering eyes, full of emotion and pain and rage. Sam's mouth opened in horror, his eyes flickering across the pale face he'd only recognize in his nightmares, his dreams.
"L-Lenore?" a gut wrenching sob caught in his throat, seeing the vampire who had literally changed how he saw everything. He'd like to think he hadn't fallen in love with a vampire, but Lenore was different. She'd always be different. She'd let him go when she could have easily killed him and he saved her life. She'd had his blood on her face, his scent etched into her memory forever, and now she was standing in front of him with her fangs out, hissing at him like she was the monster he and Dean had thought she was, the monster she wasn't and could never be. At his voice, something in Lenore's eyes broke, the water in her eyes spilling over her cheeks, along with the emotion in her face. Her fangs recoiled back into her mouth, jaw quivering under pain. She collapsed to the ground, her jeans soaking up the water on the ground, leaves turning into pulp under her body weight.
"Please help me."
Sam was on the ground in front of her in a second, his arms wrapping around her cold, shivering, broken body, holding her into his chest, his heart pounding wildly from his shock. He tried to slow the beating of his heart he knew she could hear. The blood rushing in his veins. He was warm and he hope that she could feel that warmth. He pressed his face against her hair, trying to stop her body from shaking against him, not able to speak because he was so…confused. She had broken. Lenore had broken. They had been hunting Lenore. They hadn't figured…hadn't thought….
"What happened?" she shook her head, burrowing her face in his chest, curling into him, clutching at his shirt. Sam swallowed, his heart starting to pound again. He tried to justify his reaction to the verity that Dean wasn't going to like this. Not at all. Something crunched nearby and Sam's hear shot up, vision blurred through tear filled eyes when had he started crying too? and saw Dean standing a few feet away from him, machete limp at his side, staring at Sam and the vampire in awe, horror, confusion.
"Sam?"
"It's Lenore, Dean."
"Is she alright? Did that other fang get her?"
"She is the fang, Dean."
"Jesus."
Then there was quiet. Nothing, save for the rain falling on the ground and the wracking sobs coming from Lenore. Thunder rolled overhead, catching the trio off guard. Sam and Dean looked up, saw the flash of lightning across the sky and looked back at each other.
"She needs us, Dean." Dean nodded, gesturing with the arm holding the machete.
"We'll take her back with us." Sam swallowed the lump in his throat, turning his head back down towards Lenore, shifting her against his chest until he could carry her. Her arms came up to wrap around his neck, nose buried in the collar of his shirt.
Dean lead the way back, easily picking out the way they had come, how had they been so careless to leave such damage? They were supposed to be hunters, more careful than that. They shouldn't have been so blinded by their pain, their need to kill- Dean shook his head and glanced over his shoulder at Sam and Lenore, who had stopped sobbing and was now breathing steadily against Sam's neck. He turned back around, shaking his head, his boots squelching against wet leaves as they made it to the edge of the forest, spotting the barn with the dead man, and the blood. Dean stopped abruptly, feeling Sam almost knock him over as he stopped behind him, glancing over his shoulder. There was a state police car parked near the entrance of the barn, and a cop walking around the Impala, checking it out.
"What now?"
Dean's mouth formed a grim line, staring at the copper glancing over his baby. "There's too much blood over there, who knows what she can handle."
"So what do we do?"
"Head back to the room, keep the door locked until I get back." Sam hesitated.
"You sure?"
"Take care of her."
Sam nodded, glancing at his brother one last time before he started along the perimeter of the forest, heading around the barn and the house and the cops. Dean watched him go out of the corner of his eyes before placing the most charming, easy going, shit-eating grin he had on his face and heading towards the cop and his baby, ready to talk his way out of murder.
"Well, hey there!"
Sam walked the two miles back to the motel, looking over his shoulder every time a car would pass. By the time he got back to the motel he was shivering as badly as Lenore, blinking rain from his face as he got them into the room. Lenore, shifted in his arms, conscious that she was being held and climbed out of his arms, sinking into the bed furthest from him, arms coming up to rest against her knees, hands burring into her soaked hair, wet blood clinging to her arms, facer and neck.
Sam pulled off his jacket, still watching her shake on the bed. His shirt came after, peeling away from his skin, a noise that didn't go unnoticed by Lenore, who looked up sharply as he tossed his sodden clothes against the chair next to the dresser, hands dropping to his belt, unaware that Lenore was staring at him.
"Sam?"
His head shot up, wet hair sticking to his face, water dripping into his eyes. His hands dropped away from waistband of his jeans, falling to his sides.
"I'll get something to clean you up."
She nodded, unconsciously kicking her sneakers off her feet as Sam moved into the bathroom, returning a few minutes later with a warm cloth in his hands. He kneeled between her legs, his eyes moving across her face, silently asking permission to touch her. She nodded a bit, and closed her eyes as warmth spread out along her skin, removing the poison against her skin that had her lightheaded and antsy. It was painful to suppressed the animal inside her, waiting to claw its way out and drain the lifeblood from the man in front of her, taking care of her.
"What happened?"
It was the second time he asked her and again she shook her head, eyes opening and catching Sam's.
"Eli's dead."
"He was you're mate, wasn't he?" asked Sam, his eyes glancing away from her, continuing on what he was doing and if Lenore didn't know any better she'd say he almost looked jealous. She nodded and the last of the blood was gone from her skin, stinking on the washcloth in Sam's hand and he stood up again to dispose of it in the trash outside. Lenore's head cleared, eyes closing, breathing in for the first time in months and not smelling blood and death and her personal demon.
"Lenore?" her eyes snapped open and Sam was standing in front of her, his fingertips hovering over her cheek. She heard his blood rushing in her ears, his heart pounding against his chest and God why hadn't she noticed it before? his was staring at her with concern in his eyes, trying to figure out if she was hurt. She leaned into his touch.
"Thank you." she breathed, standing up, Sam's hand following her movement, never leaving her cheek. Dark eyes stared into brighter ones, emotion and electricity crackling together. Something in his eyes broke and his hand moved from her cheek to her back of her head, her damp hair tangling around his fingers and his mouth crashed against hers, teeth clicking together, tongues and lips moving together in a desperate need for closeness.
Sam suddenly pulled away from her, leaning back, a serious expression on his face. The hand on the back of her neck moved back to her cheek, his thumb brushing her cheekbone. He wanted this, but he new what it was like to loose someone you loved. He wouldn't let himself taint her memories of Eli and alter the way she saw him. He swallowed his tongue and pulled away from her, turning around so he wouldn't have to see the look on her face.
"Sam-"
They looked up as the door opened rudely, banging against the opposite wall as Dean strolled in, giving Sam a look door Sam, you didn't lock the door and then moving his eyes onto Lenore. Her lips were swollen. And her hair was mussed. Dean frowned at her and then looked back over at Sam who was fishing through his bag for a dry shirt. Dean's frown only deepened, borderline stupidity.
"Did I interrupt something?"
"No," said Sam, shoving a shirt over his head and tossing his bag back against the dresser, the soft sound of it hitting the wall causing Lenore to jump, her expression sobered and she crossed her arms over her chest, the wet material of her clothing grating irritably against her skin.
"I should go-"
"Hold on, how do we know you're-"
"Not going to kill someone again?" Dean shut his mouth at her words and he nodded. Lenore's eyes softened considerably and she uncrossed her arms.
"I wasn't in the right mind." Sam bristled slightly, but didn't say anything. Dean seemed to get that he shouldn't ask, and filled away a reminder to asked Sam when Lenore was gone. "I'm alright now. Thanks to you."
"You're sure?" asked Dean, unconvinced by her words, her face however, he believed the way her eyes filled with tears.
"Thanks to you, I will be."
Dean nodded, be careful, I don't want to keep hunting your fine ass down he left her and Sammy alone, figuring a drive was in order to clear his head of the anger in his heart and the very disturbing sight of Sam without a shirt on gross.
Sam couldn't look back at her, but he caught her movement in the fogged mirror above the dresser, reaching out to touch him, fingertips brushing against his shoulder, the warmth of the cotton under her fingers, the rush of Sam's blood in her ears.
"You should get back to your family." it was a quiet statement, and he really didn't mean it. Her fingertips slid down his arm, leaving a trail of goose bumps.
"You don't have to baby me, Sam. I've lost people before."
"I don't want to-"
"You wont."
Sam turned back to her, her hand falling against his side, digging her fingers into his shirt, pulling him closer, flushed, against her, her breath mixing with his as her head tilted back and his tilted down. It would have been so fucking beautiful simple and vital…but in all honesty, it wasn't right. It wasn't the time. It wasn't the place. She was hurt, still hurting, pieced together by glue that was still tacky and could fall apart at any moment. She needed…to be alone, to wait until the glue dried and she was finally whole again.
"I'm sorry."
The Impala they hadn't realized had left roared in the parking lot. Sam leaned down to kiss her, holding her face between his hands in a desperate need to get closer and pulled away again slowly, the side of his nose brushing against hers. It hurt to pull away, pain ebbing it's way back into Lenore's chest, and she tried to suppress it, tried not to let the pieces show in her eyes, but he was always different from the others and he could see right into her instead of through her.
"So am I."
Sam's arms dropped to his side, the inside of his arms brushing against her hand and she pulled away quickly. Their heads snapped up as someone began pounding on the door to get their attention. They didn't look back at each other and Lenore started for the door, the cold breeze picking up her hair. Dean asked if she needed a ride anywhere and she shook her head, told him walking might due her good for once. He nodded and stepped aside for her to go, telling her to keep in touch this time. She knew what he meant and she nodded her head, chancing a glance back at Sam, who waved, a smile cracking his face almost pathetically. She heard Dean turn back to Sam after she had crossed the parking lot.
"First a ghost, then a demon, now a vampire. What's next, Sam? A zombie? Maybe a unicorn?"
He didn't dignify Dean with a response. How could he? He was right for Christ's sake and it wasn't right. But he promised, with his eyes, the way he wasn't talking, that he'd be there when she wasn't so…in pieces.
She'd find him when she wanted too.