Summary: The pesky vampire boys are back. And this time they meet their maker. A sequel to 'Sampire, Dampire' and 'Sampire, Dampire II'. Read these first.
Sampire, Dampire III: The Final Bit by frostygossamer
Dean was always gonna die tragically. He just hadn't expect to do it so many times.
Sam-bat and Dean-bat were hanging under the branch of an old crooked lightning-struck tree, with Dean's car keys hanging on a twig between them. Dean-bat was staring at them lovingly. Sam-bat felt faintly jealous.
"What I wanna know is: How'd we morph into bats, anyway?", Sam-bat enquired.
Dean-bat sighed and recapped what had just occurred.
They had broken into Bobby's house. Bobby's booby trap bombs had gone off, and the house had gone up like a big-ass bonfire. He and Sam had been standing in the middle of the old guy's Devil's Trap rug, unable to run.
But Bobby hadn't been as sharp as Sam's clever brother. He hadn't thought about over their heads. And then the roof had blown off, Sam had turned to Dean, grinning foolishly, and a light-switch had gone on in Dean's head.
"Fly!", he yelled.
That was all he'd had to say and, in some strangely instinctive way, they were suddenly winging up through the starry night sky to safety and freedom.
"Oh", Sam-bat commented. "And how do we change back into human form now?"
"Heck knows", Dean answered, clueless.
They hung there some more.
After a few minutes of thinking about nothing, Sam suddenly fell out of the tree onto his head. His human head. He picked himself up off of the dirt, and brushed himself down, red-faced. Dean-bat, still in the tree, looked at him quizzically.
"I just kinda forgot that I was a bat", Sam replied to the obvious question.
After a few more minutes, Dean joined him on the ground, rubbing the back of his head.
"We gotta get back to the room before sun-up", Dean pointed out.
Sam nodded. They hiked up to the main highway, and hitched a lift to the motel where they'd left their stuff. It wasn't exactly five-star, but it was creepy and dark inside, perfect for vampires.
Sam sat on the edge of the bed, tipping sand out of his shoe onto the floor. Unfortunately, it didn't make the floor look any dirtier.
"I was thinking, and I have some questions", he said.
Dean put down his towel and waited for his brother to continue.
"First of all", Sam said. "How come we got into Bobby's so easy? Don't vampires have to be invited inside?"
"Obvious, Sam", Dean replied. "Bobby has welcomed us in a million times. No reason that should change. Especially since he was baiting his whoopty-doopty damn trap."
Sam nodded. "Second of all", he continued. "How come we turned into bats, and then back into us, and we still have on the same clothes?"
Dean looked thoughtful for a moment. "I guess that's because the bat thing was just some kinda transcendental illusion. On some super-physical plane of reality, we never stopped being us."
"Dude, that's totally deep", Sam commented, admiringly.
Dean preened a little. Sam was so easy to bullshit now he was a vampire.
He picked up his towel, and disappeared back into the bathroom. After a long while Sam wandered over and looked in.
"And last of all", Sam said, "What the fuck's taking you so long to get a shave?"
"Cos it's freakin' hard to shave this gorgeous mug properly, when I don't got a reflection, man", Dean griped in reply.
Sam rubbed his own stubbly chin thoughtfully.
"OK", he ventured. "Here's an idea. I shave you, you shave me. Sound like a deal?"
A half hour and a can of shaving gel later, Dean emerged from the bathroom feeling unusually smooth all over. Sam followed him out wearing the Cheshire Cat smile that normally belonged to Dean.
"Whole new definition of a wet shave", he chuckled.
Dean stared down the front of his jeans. "Dude, this better not be gonna chafe", he warned.
('o')
Despite the continued irritation of being car-less, Dean knew that they would have to wait a while before they could, once again, try to get his baby back from Bobby.
Sam suggested they try another job in the meanwhile. Dean sighed and agreed.
After an hour on his laptop, Sam came up with a good prospect.
"Great", he exclaimed, prodding the screen with his finger. "This looks like a doozy. Big ol' haunted house in Colorado. Last occupants, family all died in kinda weird accidents. Been empty close on ten years. Just been bought by a new family, Romanian immigrants.
Been reporting some pretty freaky phenomenon, scary noises, stuff getting moved around, lights going on and off, writing on mirrors, pets going missing, yada yada. Police've come up with zilch. Could be restless spirits, native graveyard, maybe, something like that?"
"Sure", Dean replied, laying down on the bed. "Soon as it gets dark I'll go rip us off some transport, and we'll get on down there. May as well do something to take my mind off of my baby."
"Dude, There's something we could do right now that'd take your mind right off of her", Sam suggested suggestively.
"Sam", Dean retorted. "I've said what I have to say about that. It was a one-time thing. Both times. And it's not gonna happen again."
He turned his back to his brother, "And no more inappropriate male grooming funny business neither", he muttered.
Sam sighed. Dean could be such a party-pooper.
('o')
At sunset Dean 'obtained' a car and they set off for Colorado. When the sun came up again, they pulled over, blacked out the car windows and slept until dusk returned.
The journey didn't take as long as they'd expected, and they found the shady address pretty easily. It was one of those places you couldn't miss, even in the growing gloom, looming over the road into town like an ominous presence.
"Jeez man, what kinda people would buy a place like this?", Dean remarked, with a look of distaste on his face.
"They're Romanian", Sam replied. "I guess to them it looked kinda homey."
They parked their boosted vehicle in front of the house, and stepped out. Sam looked around. The land on which the house stood was dried up and lifeless. It ran away from the road, and vanished into a spooky looking stretch of forest.
A cool breeze swirled around them, ruffling their hair. Sam pulled his jacket a little tighter and shivered. They walked up the steps to the door of the house, and Dean knocked.
The door was snatched open, alarmingly fast, by a tall young man in dungarees and a plaid shirt. He looked at them suspiciously.
"Whaddya want?", he asked with a heavy European accent.
Sam glanced at Dean. He decided that for once they could come sorta clean.
"We're Paranormal Investigators", he explained, trying to sound official. "We've come to sort out your problems with... uh... Paranormality."
The guy's suspicious look was replaced with something more like relief.
"We were beginning to think no one here give a damn", he complained. "Back home, in the old country, there are people you can call about this sorta thing. But here, in America, who you gonna call?"
Sam shot a warning look at Dean, who just rolled his eyes.
Papa invited them into the kitchen and introduced them to Mama. Mama was a tasty little thing, with long dark hair and pretty eyes. She was cooking sausages. Dean's eyes lit up for both reasons. She smiled shyly at the two visitors.
"Don't worry, Ma'am. Everything's gonna be OK now. We're here", he assured her, grinning that sunny grin of his.
Then they noticed the kids. Two girls, twins, hopefully, cos they were freakishly identical. They looked up at Sam and Dean from where they were sitting, eating oatmeal at the kitchen table, and their eyes looked totally psycho.
Sam glanced over at Dean, and Dean nodded. Source of the problem right there. Evil kids! You didn't need to be a super-sensitive vampire to get that.
"OK, Sam", Dean said, winking at his brother. "Why don't you and Papa and Mama go check out the house, seal the doors and windows, salt the ledges, whatever, and I'll check things out in here."
"Sure", Sam replied, grabbing the parents by their elbows, and hurrying them out of the room.
"OK", Dean sighed. He placed his revolver on the table, then turned a chair around and straddled it, facing the Children of Doom. "We all know why I'm here."
One of the girls flicked a spoonful of oatmeal in Dean's eye. He wiped it off, with disgust, and glared at her.
"Guess you're the spokesman", he said. "Gonna tell me what you are, and what you're doing here?"
The other girl laughed manically. "We're Mama's little angels", she cackled menacingly.
"So, what? You're demons wearing the kids' meat suits, or they died and Mama brought them back with a loco spell, or you're some kinda cuckoo-in-the-nest nasties? Spill."
The two 'angels' mumbled together for a moment.
"This is our home", they declared, together. "We didn't ask them to come. Mom and Dad killed us. They said we were evil, unnatural children, and they buried us under the floor boards. We got our own back on them, didn't we?", they nodded together, "And we waited. We waited a long time, but eventually our new family came along, and we move right in", they snickered.
All at once, the two girls jumped up from the table, and came at Dean with little chubby hands outstretched. He grabbed his gun.
('o')
Sam and the parents were checking the windows upstairs, when he heard a bang and the sound of a dustup from the kitchen below. He descended the stairs in one unnaturally fast bound and burst into the room.
The two girls had Dean pinned to the wall. One had a big sharp kitchen knife at his throat, and the other was taunting him with a flaming pan of sausages.
"Dean! What? How?", Sam exclaimed, in shock.
"They're possessed", Dean gasped. "Get holy water fast!"
Sam raced out to the car, and grabbed some holy water from his bag. He hurried back inside, but hesitated to throw it. It might have gotten on his brother.
"Remind me, Dean", he asked. "Doesn't holy water work on vampires too?"
Dean rolled his eyes, as he struggled to kick away the evil children.
"Somehow I don't think we need to quibble right now. This kid's gonna hack off my freakin' head and the other kid's trying to set me alight. Do something, Sam!"
Sam removed the stopper off of the bottle, and tipped some on his finger. It smarted.
"Ow!", he yelped.
"Just. Be. Careful", Dean stressed, covering his face with his hands.
The kid with the frypan turned around, and started to inch toward Sam. Sam flung holy water into the kid's face. She shrieked and collapsed to the floor, like a rag-doll. The flaming sausages rolled onto the tiles, and quietly set light to the table leg.
Emboldened, Sam approached the second kid, the one with the knife. She cackled and tried to back heel him, but he grabbed her leg and twisted her off of her feet. Then he doused her with the rest of the holy water. She slumped likewise rag-dollishly.
Sam smiled as Dean slid down the wall, rubbing his neck. "You OK?", he asked.
"Sure", Dean replied. "For a moment there I thought I was gonna end up like the Phantom... the one with half a face!"
Just then Mama and Papa barged into the room and, horrified, ran to pick up their comatose kiddies. Dean and Sam set about tearing up the floor boards. They soon located the grim skeletons of the murdered children. Salting and burning then took place. With their ghostly possessors gone, the two girls soon recovered.
Just before dawn the Winchesters took their leave of the Romanian farmer and his family. The father shook their hands over-enthusiastically and gave them a gap-toothed grin, overflowing with thanks. Mama kissed both the brothers on the cheek. Their two daughters beamed up at them sweetly. They still gave Sam the shivers.
Dean hurried Sam into their car. "Sun", he snapped, pointing to the eastern horizon, as he slammed his foot on the accelerator. They screeched away, and just got back to their motel in time.
('o')
Sam flung himself on the bed chuckling. "That was fun", he laughed.
"Fun?", Dean echoed huffily. "Wouldn't call almost being decapitated and set on fire exactly fun."
"Aw, c'mere", Sam invited, stretching out his arms toward his sulky brother.
Dean sat down on the bed beside him. Sam began to soothingly rub his brother's tense shoulders.
"Wanna cuddle, D?", he joked, as Dean started to relax a little.
"Nah", Dean replied, but with a smirk.
So they didn't cuddle. But what they did was definitely fun.
It's an animal instinct that leads a creature into the arms of one of its own kind, and Dean found he now gave into that instinct all too easily with Sam. Vampires have no self-restraint. They're driven by the need to feed. Sating their hunger is their motivation. It's a powerful drive, stronger than any human taboo, and a hellish turn on.
He loved Sam, and the smell of that familiar flesh drew him. The sound of that familiar blood coursing through those veins pulled him in. The taste of it dizzied him. The touch of familiar hands took him. It was wrong, but a vampire is made of wrong. It was glorious, and it was goddamn fun.
A little later they were laying together between the sheets.
"I could get to like this", Dean remarked airily.
"Well, don't get used to it", was Sam's snarky reply. "That was totally a one-time 'comfort' fuck. I'm not gonna make it a habit."
Dean leaned up on his elbow, and looked him in the face. "Seriously?", he asked.
Sam grinned up at him. "You started this", he pointed out.
"Shut up, Bitch", Dean retorted, and proceeded to shut him up with a kiss.
('o')
Next day, once it got dark, they drove south. It was funny but both Winchesters were feeling a strange urge to go south. God knew why, but it was as if something was calling to them. They crossed the state border into New Mexico at midnight.
Sam had been humming along to the car radio the whole journey. Dean was kinda missing his own cassette-tape collection, and started flicking between radio stations. Sam got pissed and they started to fight over the radio's controls. Dean took his eyes off of the road for an instant.
Suddenly there was an almighty bang, the car hit something immovable in the middle of the road, rolled over three times and landed on its roof in the ditch. The two occupants hung limply upside down from their seat-belts, lifeless.
o
o
o
o
o
o
Of course, they were actually lifeless before the crash.
After a few minutes Sam stirred.
"Uh-oh, I think we hit someone", he said, poking his brother in the ribs.
They released their seatbelts and scrambled out of their vehicle.
Trapped under the front of the car, they found the body of a sweet little girl with pigtails.
"Oh, Jeez", Dean exclaimed.
"Poor kid", gasped Sam, horrified.
"Poor kid my ass", Dean retorted. "That's the goddamn mini-vamp that bit you on the leg last year."
"No", Sam said, twisting his head around to get a better look. "Oh, yeah. Could be."
The kid's eyes suddenly shot open, and she hissed evilly.
"So we meet again", Dean said to her.
The kid wriggled and tried to push off the car. Scarily, she almost managed it.
She shot Sam an evil glare and snarled, "Get this off of me! Now!"
Mesmerized, Sam made to move forward, but Dean stopped him. "Get the ax", he whispered.
Sam went and opened the trunk, took out a big-ass ax and handed it to Dean.
Dean knelt down beside the vampire kid, and stared in her eyes.
"Any last words?", he asked, dryly.
"I don't understand", she growled. "I sired him. He sired you. You are mine to command. How dare you defy me? How dare you threaten me?"
"You took my baby brother away from me", Dean replied coldly. "No one gets away with that", and with one whack he took off her wicked little head.
('o')
When the Winchesters woke up in the back of their re-rolled car the next morning, they were human again.
"Who'd have thought that little kid was a master vampire?", Dean remarked, impressed to find yet another vampire movie trope wasn't total crapola after all.
"I'm kinda disappointed", Sam moaned. "I never got to climb up the outside of a tall building."
"That's Spiderman, Jerk", Dean retorted.
"Yeah, and Dracula too, Dean. And he got to turn into a column of smoke, to get under doors", Sam explained. "That would have been cool."
"Yeah, and you never got to wear an opera cloak", Dean laughed. "Deal."
Now Dean was eager to go pick up the Impala.
Dumping their wrecked ride, the brothers decided to catch a bus for the journey north toward Bobby's.
The Greyhound is not Dean's favourite form of transport. He spend the entire trip griping about the seats, the passengers, the driver, his driving, the traffic, the heat, every damn thing.
Sam kicked back, as best the limited space allowed, and pretended to sleep, in the hope that Dean would shut the freak up. It didn't work.
Now that the romantic haze of his recent vampirism had lifted, Sam's mind was clearing. He was beginning to wonder how the heck he had put up with this aggravating guy for so long.
('o')
After what seemed like eternity, they finally de-bussed in South Dakota, and got a cab to Bobby's yard.
Bobby's was like a war zone. His house had been reduced to a charred pile of bricks. Nearby stood a small, beat-up trailer, Bobby's new home.
Dean and Sam advanced on the trailer gleefully, and Sam rapped on the trailer's door like an enthusiastic Jehovah's Witness.
The door flew open to reveal Bobby holding a shotgun. The boys held their hands up.
"God alone knows how the heck you two are still around buggin' me", he declared. "But I'm gonna finish this little mission of mine, and rid the world of you scary-ass sons of bitches, if it's the last thing I do!"
Clearly the destruction of Bobby's house and personal possessions had adversely affected his previous sympathetic attitude to the boys' terrible fate.
"Bobby", Dean said calmly. "It's daylight."
Bobby looked like he'd been spoken to in Swahili. "Ya what?", he snapped.
Sam intervened. "It's daylight. The sun is shining. We're not burning, right?", and he did a little spin to prove his point.
Bobby stared back at him blankly.
"Cos we're not vampires any more", Sam explained slowly. "We're back. We're human again."
"How the heck...?", Bobby spluttered.
"We ganked the ass outta the creepy vampire kid that bit Sam. That's how", Dean explained.
"Oh", Bobby replied, cracking his shotgun. "Guess you better come on in", and he waved then inside the trailer.
They climbed inside. Bobby motioned for them to sit down at his table, which they did.
"Guess you've come for the Chevy", Bobby said.
"What no 'Hi there. Glad to see you're OK. Welcome back to the land of the living'?", Sam asked.
"Oh yeah", Bobby agreed, waving his hand. "All that."
The old guy looked down at the table, choosing his words carefully.
"Dean, she's not here", he eventually stated. "She's in the shop."
Dean jerked back in his seat with shock. "Don't tell me she got wrecked in the explosion. Cos I...", he choked.
"Oh, no, no, she's OK", Bobby assured him. "She just needed a little work."
"Like what?", Dean asked, suspiciously.
"Oh, just a little detailing", Bobby explained. "Don't look at me like that. My home got blown sky high. Me and Rumsfeld had to live somewheres. And it took me a while to get this beauty sorted out", he indicated the trailer.
"You were living in my baby?", Dean asked, disbelieving, "With the dog! That drool-happy, gassy, scruffy-assed mutt?"
The sacrilege! He got up and stalked out of the trailer.
"Don't worry", Sam said, patting the Rottweiler apologetically. "He'll get over it", and followed his brother outside.
('o')
When Dean had calmed down, he, Bobby and Sam went down to the repair shop, to claim the Impala.
Dean needn't have worried. The repair guy, obviously a man of taste, had done a beautiful job. The car shone almost like new. She even smelled good.
Dean slid into the driver's seat. "Good to be back", he sighed.
Sam climbed into the passenger side, and watched Dean lovingly tickle the engine into life. She purred. Dean's baby was glad to see him.
Dean pulled out onto the road, and Sam waved to Bobby as they sped away.
Back to the day job.
The End
A/N: OK, that's the last one of this sequence. And a happy ending. Hope you enjoyed 'em.
