I wrote this in one day since it was rolling through my head and just wouldn't stop. I had a hard time with Sam's little speech about how he believed in Dean since it didn't fly considering his actions of late. So I tried to fix it. I don't usually write Sam, because his character is all over the place and I never know which Sam will show up from week to week. But this was one thing I wanted an answer to, so… here it is.
Blood for Blood
Sam threw the cell phone onto the table, cringing as the device clattered across the surface and dropped with a clang onto the floor. He took a deep breath in an attempt to reign in his anger before stalking around the length of the table and bending to retrieve the phone. He breathed a sigh of relief as he pushed the button and it lit up like normal. It was his only link to his brother at the moment – if the jerk would just answer the calls on his end.
It had been three days since Dean had left the boat after checking up on Kevin and Garth. Three days since anyone had heard from him.
Dean had called a few hours after leaving, informing Sam that all was well, Kevin was still hard at work trying to decipher the second trial and Garth said 'hey'. Sam had stayed behind at the Men of Letters' bunker to continue his research, but he suspected it was mostly because Dean's protective instincts had gone into overdrive ever since Sam had killed the hellhound and he wanted to know Sam was safe.
The younger Winchester had finally convinced his brother he could handle whatever was coming and and agreed to stay behind, safely ensconced in the protective bunker, in an attempt to keep the tentative truce between them. He hadn't told Dean about what had happened after he'd recited the Enochian spell because he didn't want his brother to worry.
That hadn't gone over well.
Dean wasn't stupid. And he was more than familiar with Sam's tactics, as the younger brother had found out as soon as they'd returned to the bunker.
Dean had rounded on him, demanding to know what the hell had happened. Telling Sam that if he didn't level with him about everything, the whole thing was off and he would handcuff him to a radiator and find another hellhound on his own.
Sam had no doubt his brother meant every word, but old habits died hard. He sincerely didn't want Dean to spend his time worrying about Sam and not watching his own back. Whatever it was that had hit him after the spell, well, it was gone now. Until there was something that truly was more alarming than a constant headache and a few nosebleeds, Sam told himself he would let Dean in on it.
Probably.
But the guilt of hiding those little symptoms had led him to agreeing to stay behind, and now Dean was missing. Over a dozen calls to his cell phone had gone unanswered, the last four calls going straight to voice mail. It wasn't like Dean to ignore his calls. Especially when his big brother protective instincts were on red alert.
Sam had no idea what to do. The bunker was in the middle of nowhere and Dean had left with the Impala – they really needed to talk about getting a second car. He had called Garth, he'd even phoned Jody Mills and she promised to do covertly do a national search to see if anyone fitting Dean's description had been arrested… or worse. Sam had been relieved the search had turned up nothing. At least his brother was sitting behind bars somewhere waiting for a transport to a SuperMax prison.
But that didn't explain where he was, nor did it help Sam's growing sense of unease. With everything they had in store for them, Sam needed his brother.
He had told Dean how much he admired him. Finally. He couldn't remember having told Dean that since they were kids. He'd always looked up to the man, and he was proud of the hunter – and the person – he'd become. He'd just never really stopped to consider that Dean didn't know. He'd looked up to him his whole life, but somewhere along the line, Dean's perception of himself and Sam's opinion of him had gotten muddled. He'd never stopped believing in his big brother, but maybe he'd stopped showing it.
He knew Dean had heard what he'd said, but he wasn't convinced the older man believed it. Dean truly thought of himself as expendable and that scared Sam more than any monster possibly could. There was a light at the end of this tunnel, and Sam was determined to make his brother see it. And if that meant he was the one to put his life on the line this time, then so be it.
Of course, that light involved walking away from hunting, and Sam knew he could do that. Dean was convinced he couldn't. That was not acceptable. It may be arrogant, but Sam wasn't giving up without a fight. Of course, Dean was the best hunter he'd ever known – he'd meant that. But that wasn't all he was.
But even Sam had his doubts about Dean finding something other than hunting. He seemed to be more… alive with a gun in his hand. He seemed to be in his element. Sam wasn't sure if taking that away from his brother was any better than death itself. It was a question he'd been trying to avoid asking himself ever since he'd agreed to let Sam do the trials. At the time, he simply wanted to make sure his brother survived. But after a lot of thought, he wasn't sure if he'd made the right choice.
He wanted Dean to fight for himself – to see that light. But all he'd done is cement Dean's view that his one job was to watch out for Sam. Now, more than ever, Dean was determined to make sure Sam survived these trials.
Even if it cost his own life.
And wasn't that just what Sam had been trying to avoid in the first place?
The ringing of the phone in his hand tore his attention way from turmoil in his mind and he dropped to a chair in relief as he saw the capital 'D' light up on the display.
"Thank God! " he breathed into the phone a split second after he punched the receive button. "Where the hell have you been? I've been calling you –"
"Sam?"
He stopped cold. The voice was not one he recognized, low and gravelly with a soft southern twang and definitely not his brother's.
"Sam? You there?"
"Who is this?" His own voice was pitched low and the relief he had felt a moment ago had turned to a cold pit in his stomach. "Where's Dean?"
"You need to come. Quick." The voice replied. "He needs help and I… I can't…"
Sam picked up on the cadence of the voice and a sudden jolt of fear swept through him. He'd only heard that cadence once… but it had been enough.
"Benny?"
The silence was deafening, and Sam held his breath, wondering how the vampire had gotten his brother's phone.
"You need to hurry." The voice finally replied. "I did what I could but… the blood…"
Sam could hear the choking sound although the caller tried to muffle it.
"Benny!" he called, now on his feet, reaching for his still packed bag and jacket. "Benny! Answer me damnit! Where are you? Where's Dean? Is he alright?"
"Kokomo, Indiana." The vampire stated. "Call when you get close. I'll do what I can 'til you get here."
Snsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsn snsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsns
Kokomo was a small city directly between Indianpolis and Fort Wayne. It was like any other small city with a downtown district and a few tall buildings, a couple factories and and small community housing developments. The communities gave way to farmland with houses dotting the land miles apart. It was one of those lonely farm houses Sam found himself parked in front of. He stepped out of the old buick he had hotwired after jogging to the nearest strip mall back in Kansas. He'd had to stop for gas once, but had made the drive in less than five hours.
He breathed a sigh of relief as he turned and saw the moonlight reflect off the familiar back quarter panel of the Impala, neatly tucked up beside an dilapidated barn. He smiled at how much seeing the car meant to him. It meant home. It meant Dean.
He leaned in and grabbed his backpack, hustling to the Impala and using his spare key to pop open the trunk. He quickly stuffed the emergency medical kit into the backpack, followed by Dean's favorite sawed off and a large machete that was stained with dark blood. Sam frowned at the condition the weapons were in, knowing his brother would never leave them like this if he could help it.
Shutting the trunk, Sam helfted the pack onto his shoulder and slowly made his way to the darkened house. If was a two story structure, nothing standing out architecturally about the design. A simple, A frame house with a sagging porch and narrow windows. He carefully stepped over the missing planks on the stairs and appraocehd the front door cautiously. His hand held the machete in front of him, low and away as he pulled open the creaking door and stepped over the threshold.
The place was definitely abandoned. The furniture – what was left – was old and covered with dust. The wallpaper hung in tatters and cobwebs hung from the corners, swaying in the slight breeze. It looked like a hundred other old, creepy houses they had hunted in their whole lives. But this one held more than ghosts.
A trail of blood drops caught his attention, his eyes following them up the rickety old staircase to the second floor. Slowly, he ascended the stairs, his shoulder to the wall, his eyes and ears peeled for anything out of place in this old house. The stairs creaked ominously but held his weight and he followed the trail to the top where it took a left turn down a narrow hallway.
His fottsteps and breath sounded loud in the silence as he followed the trail to a partially closed doorway on his left. He swalloed, wishing he had his brother at his back, and held his breath as he slowly pushed open the door. His eyes narrowed as they took in the dimly lit room. A dusty dresser, a small, broken chair and a large iron bed.
It was the still figure on the bed that made his heart jump into his throat.
"Dean?"
Forgetting all stealth, Sam rushed into the room and dropped the backpack onto the floor.
Dean was lying on the side of the bed, his features highlighted by a dimly lit oil lamp sitting atop the small table to Sam's right. He reached out tentatively, praying to every deity he could remember, as he lay his hand along his brothers neck. He sagged with relief when he felt the slow pulse beat beneath his fingers. He took a moment to reorient himself before letting his eyes slide down the length of his brother's form.
There was a bandage wrapped around his lower abdomen, the cloth stained with blood. Sam reached for it, drawing his hand away quickly and placing himself between Dean and the door when he felt a sudden disturbance.
"He was bleeding pretty bad."
Sam crouched, the machete held with both hands before him as he eyed the dark figure standing just outside the bedroom doorway.
"Who did this?"
Benny leaned against the door frame, but didn't raise his head. "Vampires." He responded.
"Did you…?" Sam let the question hand, but it finally got a reaction from the monster.
"No. Not me. I… " Benny sighed and pushed himself off the door frame. "And I made sure he wasn't infected." Sam nodded, relieved the vampire had answered his unasked question. I'm glad you're here, Sam. I did what I could, but with the blood and all…." His eyes looked past Sam at the man lying prone in the bed. "I didn't want to hurt him. So…"
Benny leveled his gaze back toward Sam. "If you need something, let me know. I'll be… around."
Sam really, really wanted answers, but knew now was not the time. His brother needed his help and that had to be his priority. "Water," he said as he laid the machete down on the other side of Dean. "I'll need boiling water to clean and sterilize the wound." He turned and pulled away the sodden bandage, wincing as the motion caused his brother to moan softly. "What was he stabbed with?"
Benny pointed toward the other side of the bed where a familiar knife glinted out from beneath a soiled rag.
"His own knife?"
Benny nodded. "I'll explain later. Help him."
Sam nodded tersely, watching as the vampire turned quietly and disappeared down the hall. Turning to the small table he reached over and turned the oil lamp to it's brightest setting. He reached down and grabbed the backpack, pulling the first aid kit, knowing he was woefully understocked for what he may have to do. If the would was clean, he could simply sterilize it and stitch it up. Give Dean the few antibiotics they had left and hope against all odds that would be enough. But if the wound was more serious – or if there was internal damage, Sam would be out of his league and he'd have to find a way to get his brother more experienced help.
The lamp was glowing brighter, giving him sufficient light to see what kind of damage he was faced with. The would was puffy and raw, but the cut looked straightforward, not jagged as he had feared. He had no idea how deep the knife had gone, and the sluggish way it continued to bleed was not bolstering his hope, but Sam decided to clean the wound, stitch it and bind it for now. Hopefully that would be enough.
Dean was completely out of it. His skin was cool to the touch, but Sam contributed that to the blood loss. It wouldn't hurt to have an IV to replenish the fluid loss, but Sam was not leaving his brother alone in order to get the supplies he would need. They did have a make-shift set-up in the trunk of the Impala, he suddenly remembered. A large plastic bottle, a couple large needles and some plastic tubing – an idea Dean has picked up after watching the movie "Shooter". Sam had had days of enjoyment ribbing Dean about watching a movie starring Marky Mark, but Dean had taken it with good humor, telling Sam that anyone who started out as a douchey boy-band rapper and managed to turn himself into a pretty respectable bad-ass was okay in his book.
Of course, the IV set-up had never been tested, but Dean had been sure it would work if they ever needed it. Sam may have doubts about his brother's taste in movies, but when it came to gadgets and rigging something out of nothing, Dean was a genius. He would give the pop bottle IV a try as soon as he got the initial triage completed.
Benny brought the water and quickly left, no doubt bothered by the overwhelming smell of blood in the small room. Sam found himself perplexed by the vampire's actions, but didn't allow himself to think about it, needing to stay focused as he pulled the needle through his brother's flesh.
After an hour or so, Sam was satisfied with his work and covered the wound with antibacterial cream and a new bandage, courtesy of a small linen closet Benny had found at the end of the hallway.
He sat back, arching his aching back and took a good look at his brother. Dean's face was pale, even in the orange light of the lamp, his breathing was still shallow and his face was pinched as if in pain. He knew what he had just done couldn't have been pleasant for the older man, even if he'd been unconscious throughout the ordeal. He had some pain meds, but they were pills and he wouldn't be able to get Dean to swallow them until he woke up.
A hand on his forehead showed Sam that he was no longer cold, but whether that was a sign he was recovering from the blood loss or a fever beginning to build, Sam had no way of telling. He decided to give Dean an hour or so before deciding on the next course of action. He did need to get some antibiotics into him, though they were in pill form also. Maybe crushing them up into some water and getting Dean to swallow that would work. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.
With a last look at his sleeping brother, Sam rose from the rickety old chair he had propped up with a stack of books under the broken leg and made his way out of the room. Moving through the dark hallways of the ground floor, Sam was able to find his way into the old kitchen. He began opening cupboards and drawers, seeing if there was anything he could use still left in the abandoned room.
"Looking for anything unparticular?"
Sam jumped, cursing himself for allowing the vampire to sneak up on him.
"Sorry," Benny held his hands out in front of him, a knowing grin lifting one side of his mouth. "Vampires can move pretty quietly."
"Yeah," Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair in an effort to regain his composure.
"How is he?" Benny's eye moved upward toward the second floor, Sam's flowing involuntarily.
"He's asleep." Sam answered. "He lost a lot of blood… which you are obviously aware of."
Benny simply nodded, his smile disappearing from his face.
"I need to get some fluids into him, keep any infection from taking hold," Sam continued, returning to his search of the old cupboards. "If I could find some… " he reached up and pulled down a half empty bag of C&H Sugar. "Sugar," he said with a grin. "I can crush up some antibiotics and pain meds mix them with some sugar water and hopefully that'll help get him through the next few hours until I can come up with something better."
"Gatorade."
Huh?"
Benny shrugged. "Something I picked up from Dean. He said he needed Gatorade."
Sam found himself smiling and nodded. "Gatorade has electrolytes, helps with blood loss."
Benny nodded. "I wanted to take him to a hospital," he explained. "He was fairly adamant about not going."
"That sounds like Dean."
"That's when he told me to get him some Gatorade and a bandage and he'd be good to go."
Sam nodded again. "Yeah." He found a glass in another cupboard and cleaned it out as nest he could. "What happened?" He asked abruptly. He turned to face Benny, uncomfortable having the vampire at his back.
Benny sighed and leaned against doorway, the fact that he hadn't placed himself in the same room as Sam not lost on the hunter.
"I was having a hard time after I left Louisiana," Benny started in a low drawl. "Dean told me not to call him, that he couldn't help me anymore because…" he glanced up at Sam for a moment before returning his gaze to the floor. "Anyway, since I couldn't go back, and both of the people I'd been relying on to help me stay clean were off limits, I'd been bouncing from place to place. Trying to…"
"Stay a step ahead of the hunters?"
Benny chuckled. "Somethin' like that. Unfortunately, hunters weren't the only sportin' group I was trying to steer clear of."
"Vampires." Sam guessed.
"Vampires," Benny agreed. "Once they find you, they don't give up. There was a nest that was trying pretty hard to get me to come into the fold. It was getti' hard to resist the call, ya know?"
Sam did know. The call of blood was something he'd never forget. "So you called Dean."
Benny shrugged again. "Didn't know what else to do. I'm pretty new to this whole friend thing, and," he chuckled, "it's not like vampire's go around making a lot of friends."
Sam leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. "So you called and Dean came running?"
"It took a bit of convincing, but yeah. He came. He brought me… supplies. Figured it could keep me happy for a while. Until I told him about the nest."
"That's what happened before," Sam surmised. "When you and I met."
"Yeah. Seems like I can't get away." Benny snorted a laugh through his nose, but Sam could detect no humor in the action. "they found me while your brother was still here. They took us both. I guess they thought he was just a normal everyday guy, 'cuz they weren't expecting what they got."
It was Sam's turn to snort a laugh. "Dean is anything but a normal, everyday guy."
"So they soon learned." Benny agreed. "They took us back to the nest, started in on Dean. Kicking, punching. Mostly 'cuz he wouldn't keep his mouth shut."
"He does tend to piss off the wrong monsters."
"Ya think?"
"Why did they take him ?" Sam asked. "Why didn't they just feed on him and kill him right there?"
"They wanted me to do it." Benny said, his voice low and dangerous. "That was their plan. To get me into the nest."
"Why didn't you?" Sam knew he was baiting the vampire, but couldn't help himself. He had believed the monster was simply using Dean, stringing him along like Ruby had done to him. He didn't want to believe anything else.
" Because he's my friend." Benny said simply. If he'd taken any offense at Sam's thinly veiled accusation, he didn't show it. "We managed to take out the nest, but they had two young girls tied to chairs. Dean thought they were victims, that the nest had been using them for food." Benny looked up and Sam couldn't help but see the regret in his eyes. "They'd been turned. Dean cut one free and she surprised him, grabbed the knife and stabbed him. I took her head and the other one's just to be sure, but the damage was done."
Sam listened, wanting to find fault with the monster his brother called friend, but found he could not. "So you brought him here and called me."
Benny nodded. "I tried to do what I could, but the blood… it just… Anyway. I figured you could take care of him better than I could so… here we are."
"Yeah," Sam agreed. "Here we are."
Snsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsn snsnsnsnsnsnsnsn
By the time Sam returned to Dean's side, the older man was showing sighs of waking.
"Dean?" Sam pulled the chair closer to the bed and placed a hand on his brothers forehead. He was warm, but not hot. Sam was going to take it as a good sign. "Hey, big brother. You with me?"
"S'my?"
Yeah, man. I'm here." Sam couldn't stop the grin from spreading across his face. "Looks like your side trip didn't go so well, huh?"
Dean shifted on the bed, his face scrunching up in pain at the movement. "Ow."
Sam snorted a laugh. "Yeah. I bet." He picked up the glass of sugar water and crushed up pills. "This might help a little."
He helped his brother drink the sweet liquid, keeping the glass tilted until empty.
"That," Dean panted as he lay back down, "was nasty."
Sam just grinned.
"So…" Dean shifted again and tried to push himself up against the headboard. "Ow."
"Stop moving, moron." Sam chided even as he helped his brother lean forward far enough to place the backpack under the pillow. "You've got a hole in your gut."
"Thank you, Captain Obvious." He winced as he probed the bandage, chuckling when Sam slapped his hand away.
"He's downstairs."
"What?"
"Benny." Sam had noticed his brother's quick look around, assuming he'd been looking for the vampire. "He's downstairs."
Dean nodded, sighing a bit in relief. "Good."
"You were afraid I'd killed him."
Dean tilted his head to the side. "You telling me you didn't want to?"
At Sam's shrug, he continued. "He's a vampire, Dean."
"Yeah. I noticed."
Sam turned to his brother. "He killed Martin, man. A hunter. Our friend."
Dean leaned back against the pillow and closed his eyes. "Benny didn't do anything you or I wouldn't have, Sammy. You just don't want to hear it."
Sam shook his head his voice rising as his agitation grew. "What? I get that you think you owe him, Dean. I know you believe he's your friend. But he's a monster. He killed a human. I thought that meant something to you."
Dean didn't bother to open his eyes to answer. "You don't know what happened."
"He killed Martin, Dean! That's what happened!"
Dean opened his eyes and glared at his brother. "No. He protected his family. The same thing you would have done." His brows furrowed a bit and he his expression changed to one of uncertainty. "Or maybe you wouldn't have."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Never mind." Dean sighed, his entire body sinking a bit into the mattress.
Sam noticed the exhaustion on his brother's features and knew that now was not the time to get into one of their usual battles. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, waiting a moment before exhaling and letting some of the anger and tension drain out with it.
"So why don't you tell me what happened."
Dean leveled his gaze at his sibling, his eyes searching for something. Finally, he nodded and began to talk. "After you left me handcuffed to the radiator – something I intend to remind you of repeatedly – I went to find Benny."
"After you sent me a fake text from Amelia." Sam ground out between his teeth. His anger over the trick obviously still simmering.
"It was the only way to stop one of you from dying," Dean explained, his voice taking on a faint whine. "What the hell was I supposed to do, Sam? Let you kill a monster who hadn't done a damn thing to be killed for? Or worse, let him kill you defending himself?"
Sam hadn't really considered his brother's position or why he would send that text. He only knew it was an underhanded trick and it had sent a wave of panic through him he couldn't control. Apparently, waking up, trapped in a motel room, knowing his brother or friend were about to die had sent that same panic through Dean.
"So," Sam responded. "You found him."
Dean took a moment, not sure of how to respond to his brother's answer – or non-answer as it was. "Yeah. I found him. And then we found the blood sucker who was really doing the murders and took him out. Benny was heading to parts unknown – leaving his home because I told him he had to."
"Then why did he come back?"
"Martin." Dean shrugged. "Crazy Martin. He grabbed Elizabeth.—"
"The woman who ran the diner Benny worked at?" Sam interrupted.
"Benny's great granddaughter." Dean corrected. "Martin held her at knife point, terrorized an innocent woman in order to get Benny to come back."
Sam was finally beginning to see what his brother had tried to tell him all those weeks ago. "Benny killed Martin to protect his granddaughter."
Dean raised his brows momentarily and shrugged. "He was protecting his family, Sam. What would you have done?"
Sam couldn't meet his brother's gaze and turned toward the window, his eyes searching the darkness beyond.
"He's still a monster, Dean."
"Maybe," the older man concurred. "But someone once told me that our job was killing evil. That we don't kill someone unless they've done something to be killed for."
Sam closed his eyes, remembering how he had pleaded with Dean to give Jack Montgomery – a man born a rugaru – a chance to resist his nature. It hadn't turned out well. Jack had killed a man. But whether it was because Jack had been pushed into it by an over-zealous hunter who had threatened his family, or whether it was simply inevitable, was something they would never know.
It wasn't lost on him that Dean had been asking the same thing of him for Benny.
"Okay."
"Okay? Okay, what?"
Sam turned back to his brother and nodded. "Okay. If you trust him, I'll trust you. I meant what I said, Dean. I believe in you. Maybe I was over identifying with what happened with Ruby, maybe I… I don't know. Maybe I just didn't want to believe I was capable of making that mistake and you weren't. I just know that I don't want to fight with you anymore." Sam squared his shoulders and looked his brother square in the eye. "If you want to give Benny that chance, I'll back you up. After all, he got you out of Purgatory, so maybe I owe him that chance, too."
Dean's eyes were wide as he watched his brother, looking for any sign of subterfuge. Sam wasn't above telling him what he wanted to hear, and Dean had learned to read little brother obfuscation a long time ago. But he could find no deception in his eyes.
"Thanks."
A knock on the open door brought their attention to the object of their discussion. Benny leaned in, his body still firmly on the other side of the threshold.
"Didn't mean to disturb you two, but I heard voices so…" He turned his attention to Dean as he took a small step into the room. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Dean said with a cocky grin. "Takes more than a vamp chick with a knife to put me down."
Benny's eyes ran the length of Dean's prone body, his amused expression telegraphing that the hunter was indeed 'down' but failing to vocalize that fact. "Good to hear. Just wanted to make sure before I moved on." He glanced at Sam, obviously checking to make sure his leaving would not be challenged.
Sam held his eyes for a moment before nodding his head, taking a few steps across the room to stand beside his brother. "Thanks," he said simply, knowing the vampire would understand exactly what he was thanking him for.
Benny nodded, then returned his gaze to Dean, a slow smile lifting the corners of his mouth. "Take care, brother." Sam flinched at the word, but didn't say anything.
"You, too."
Dean lifted a hand and after a moment, Benny came close enough to take it. They shook like old friends, and with one more glance at Sam, the vampire turned and left the room.
"Thanks, Sammy."
Sam nodded. He was still uneasy with letting a vampire walk free, but he had made a promise to his brother. And if expected Dean to keep the promises he made, it was only fair he kept his own.
The End