Testing, Testing

Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Supernatural, and I'm not making any money from this fic

Warning(s): Spanking (or there will be eventually); spoilers up to episode eight of season two; possibly quite depressing; mentions of sexual situations

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed this so far! -Hugs-. You're all really great!

As Sam sipped his beer, he discretely watched Dean from beneath his eyelashes. His brother wasn't looking at him, and seemed to have no desire to even communicate with Sam in any way. In fact, Dean wasn't even making an effort to hit on any of the pretty women who kept directing flirtatious glances at the brothers.

On second thoughts, Sam wasn't too surprised by that.

Still, Sam felt worried – and very tired… All he really wanted to do was curl up in a corner and go to sleep. He wanted Dean back. He didn't want the cold stranger who didn't seem to care about him anymore.

Drastic times call for drastic measures…

Sam took a deep breath, and then pushed back from the table with a little more force than was strictly necessary. "I'm gonna hustle pool," he stated.

Dean shrugged, barely glancing at his brother. "Go ahead," he replied in a flat, emotionless tone.

Sam opened his mouth, but then closed it again. What could he even say? How could he make Dean listen to him? How could he find out whether his brother truly cared about him still or not?

As Sam turned away from the table, he felt tears pricking at the back of his eyes. He wanted – needed – to cry, but Dean was refusing to. Sam didn't want to show weakness in front of Dean.

But he was going to try and find out just how much Dean cared about him now – if at all. No matter how hard it would be.

The few guys playing pool were easy. Sam had little trouble acting like a naïve young man at first, and by the time he had finished, he had a whole wad of cash. Despite that, though, Sam didn't feel any happier. At least they would be able to find a reasonably good motel to spend a couple of nights in while looking into their new job.

A glance towards his brother revealed that Dean hadn't moved from the table – unless he'd got up to get another beer. Sam frowned worriedly, and headed over to Dean, biting his lip slightly. "Um… Are you all right?" he asked hesitantly.

"There's nothing wrong with me." Dean raised his beer glass and drained the alcohol in one swallow. He then stood up. "Well? Are we going?"

"I guess…" Sam sighed a little to himself. He headed towards the door of the bar, trying to keep his calm. I don't think Dean cares anymore… And that hurt a lot more than anything else…

Sam watched his brother sleeping, taking in the fact that, at least in sleep, Dean seemed to be more or less peaceful. He knew that Dean tended to sleep quite lightly, as well as with a knife under his pillow.

But Sam was glad that at least his brother seemed to be sleeping all right…

Sam released his breath in a heavy sigh, and turned his attention back to the laptop screen, feeling lost and unhappy. He narrowed his eyes a little as he re-read the article on the screen, and the information he had found on the particular demon.

Sam was pretty sure that they were looking at a type of Succubus demon. It wasn't a sort that he was all that familiar with – this one seemed to be killing the men she had chosen to sleep with.

That isn't usual – at least not in most of the cases I've seen…

Sam recalled the conversation he had had with Dean just before his brother had gone down for the night. Dean had made it quite clear that they were going to wait until after sleeping before going after the demon.

But Sam had just worked out the pattern of the demon – and she was due to strike again that night.

Sam only briefly entertained the notion of waking Dean up. He wanted to prove his usefulness to his brother. Even if Dean didn't love him or care about him as a brother, Sam wanted to be able to do something for him. He wanted to prove his worth, if nothing else.

Sam closed the laptop down, then grabbed his backpack and one of the guns loaded with rock salt before heading quietly out of the motel room.

Once again, sorry for the shortness…