Warning- This story is rated M, for erotic content. The story deals with an adult psychic vampire obsessed with a teenage Sam Winchester, and due to the erotic nature of her feedings on a young Sam we felt the need to warn you.

Co-written by Sendintheclowns

Every Breath You Take - Chapter14

Dean shoved the letter from Sam into his dad's hands.

Sam was gone. With Heather. It just didn't make any sense.

His dad looked at his face and must have seen the panic because he didn't ask any questions, he just read. "This doesn't make any sense. Hell, it doesn't even sound like Sammy."

Nodding his head in agreement, Dean's head was swirling with possibilities. The most important thing was to find Sam, and bring him home where he belonged. That meant finding that bitch, Heather.

Snatching up the phone, John Winchester viciously punched in a number. "Yeah, Josh. It's John. I need a huge favor. Uh, huh. I need you to find out everything you can..."

Dean zoned out while his dad gave his contact all of the information he had on Heather — name, address, make and model of car, etc. — while he thought back to recent conversations with Sam. He'd only been kidding when he'd teased Sam about Heather wanting him but looking back, maybe the signs had been there all along. Heather always agreed to look after Sam. She'd even arranged for Sam to be seen by a doctor when he fell ill. And her large, brown eyes followed Sam whenever they were in the same room together.

He'd thought it had been funny at the time but looking back Dean felt creeped out.

Sam had been with Heather, no one else around, when he first passed out. Every time after that when Sam was sick or exhausted it had come on the heels of being at Heather's place.

But why? Heather wasn't Sam's mother so it couldn't be Munchausen's by Proxy. But there had to be a reason that Heather would be, what, poisoning Sam? And why did she kidnap him? Because there was no doubt in Dean's mind that his brother hadn't left of his own free will.

His dad placed a hand on Dean's tense shoulder after disconnecting the phone call. "Let's not panic here. I've put a trace out on Heather so we should have a lead on Sam's whereabouts soon. After all, she's going to have to use a credit card or ATM card at some point. In the meantime, we need to review what we know, figure this out."

Dragging a distracted hand through his short hair, Dean began to pace the small kitchen. "Sam was fine until he met Heather; the only time he passed out or was weak was when he'd been in her company. But what I don't understand is what Heather wants with Sam. He's just a kid."

His dad rubbed the beard on the side of his face, deep in thought. "The first time Sam passed out at Heather's, did you notice anything different about Sam? Did he say anything strange? Did he have any marks on him? There has to be something we're missing."

Dean cast his mind back and tried to remember. Sam had been pale and drawn, lethargic even. And there had been that funky rash. But that had been the Mono. Unless Sam didn't really have Mono.

And then he remembered that at first Sam hadn't liked the apartment manager; he'd even asked Dean if he'd noticed anything off about her. And Dean had blown Sam's concerns off, making a joke about it. "He had that rash on his wrist. And he said there was something off about Heather. I got the feeling he didn't really want to be around her but I told him he was crazy because she was such a hot chick."

Dropping into a kitchen chair, Dean let his head sink into his hands. He should have seen that Heather was crazy. He should have believed his baby brother. This was his fault.

Now that Dean was sitting down, his dad began pacing the small area. "So let's assume for a moment that Sam didn't have Mono, that Heather did something to him. What can cause a rash and exhaustion?"

The silence of the room was palpable as both Winchesters quietly thought about Heather and what she could have done to Sam.

-0-

Heather's mind was a whirl of activity. They'd made it to Lawrence and she now needed to set up a household using her new identity — Heather Day. She needed to find them an apartment, open a bank account, get a different car and then there were the more mundane tasks to see to like grocery shopping. Sam might be an omnivore but Heather's system was used to wholesome, organic foods and if she started eating processed foods she'd probably get very sick.

And if she was sick, she couldn't take care of Sam.

Fresh from a shower, Heather towel dried her hair and fluffed it in becoming layers around her face. While she did that she stared at Sam who still sleeping soundly in bed. His face was flushed and innocent and Heather wanted to go to him and wake him.

As much as Heather wanted to stay in the motel room and spend time with her Sam, she needed to go out and see about securing their new life. And that meant finding a way to keep Sam safe in the room while she was out.

Heather thought about physically tying Sam to the bed; she had some silk scarves that would probably work but the thought of restraining him like that was kinky and Heather didn't think she'd be able to leave the room if she did that. That idea was quickly discarded.

Maybe relying on her power of suggestion was the way to go. The one potential problem with that idea was that if Sam came out of the trance before Heather had returned he might panic, or worse, try to contact him family.

There was one solution that might work but it wasn't without its risks — Heather could drain Sam of a sufficient amount of blood leaving him too weak to move around. She didn't want to damage the young man so she really needed to think on that one.

Deciding that she wouldn't know how to proceed until she talked to Sam, Heather went to the bed and tried to wake him. "Sam, baby, it's time to wake up."

Heather wasn't prepared for Sam's violent reaction as his eyes snapped open and he rolled off the bed, eyes darting wildly around. "Sam, what's wrong?"

Instead of snapping out of his panicked state, Sam cringed away from her. "Don't touch me!"

Speaking in a soft, measure tone, Heather tried to get through to Sam. "Sam, it's me Heather. Don't be afraid."

Sam didn't realize it but he telegraphed his intentions when he licked his dry lips and glanced at the door. Before Heather could touch him and use her powers to calm him, the young man sprinted for the door. He managed to unlock it and had swung it wide open before Heather could reach him.

Her hunting instincts had kicked in as soon Sam started moving, his fear spurring her on as she lunged after him.

Tapping into her power, Heather was able to summon some extra strength and speed and she caught Sam tightly around the waist. When he struggled to get out the door she dragged him back inside and flung him toward the bed, slamming and locking the door.

Sam had staggered backward to land on his back, his legs hanging over the side of the bed. He scrambled to his feet and looked at Heather with horror.

Heather's teeth had descended and she was ready to feed. Without her calming touch, Sam was seeing her in her natural state and he wasn't taking it very well. "No, please."

Sam's voice was broken and terrified and instead of giving Heather pause, she was turned on. Pouncing forward she knocked Sam onto his back and anchored him onto the bed with her body. "No...Dean...help me..."

The most important person in Heather's world was begging for his brother to save him. Sam should only turn to Heather and with that thought she lost all composure.

Burying her teeth in Sam's exquisite neck, she fed heavily from his carotid artery. Heather didn't bother to subdue her prey with her powers, instead relying on brute force to hold him still as her hands snaked into Sam's hair, preventing his head from moving.

The soft, erratic lub-dub of Sam's heart finally penetrated her feeding frenzy and Heather tore her incisors out of the pale skin.

Sam was still conscious, but just barely, as he blinked unfocused eyes at the ceiling.

Heather dragged the back of her hand across her lips. She hadn't meant to be that rough or take that much blood from her beloved. Smoothly the long bangs off his brow she bent over and pressed a kiss against his forehead. "It's going to be okay now. You'll see."

Moisture spilled from the corners of Sam's eyes and trailed back into his hair.

Disgusted with her behavior, Heather grabbed her bag and keys and fled the motel room.

She'd find a way to make it up to Sam. To gain his trust.

In the meantime Heather knew the blood loss would prevent Sam from leaving her.

-0-

Sam stared up at the ceiling, tears streaming down his face.

Heather was some sort of vampire, maybe a hybrid or something, and she'd fed on Sam.

Back when he'd first met Heather, Sam had intuited that something wasn't right about their attractive neighbor. But his dad and Dean didn't seem to notice anything and Sam was just kid, prone to fits of imagination.

Waking up to find Heather leaning over him, smiling down at him, had thrown him into panic. He didn't remember leaving the apartment and he sure as hell didn't remember checking into a motel room.

When Heather had called him Baby he'd almost hurled. There was a strange light in her eyes, a sheen of yellow, flashing at him. Sam had just thought she was insane – what would a thirty-something-year-old woman want with him?

He felt stalked. And scared. Sam wanted his family.

So when Sam had seen an opening he'd dashed for the door in a bid for freedom only to have strong arms capture him around the waist and yank him back inside. He'd thought maybe someone had been hiding in the bathroom, that Heather had some accomplice, but when he'd bounced onto the bed from a rough push he'd seen Heather. Only it wasn't really Heather.

Instead he'd been faced with a distorted vision of her, incisors descended menacingly, complete with glowing yellow eyes.

Sam had freaked. He remembered begging and pleading; he wanted nothing more than for Dean to bust through the door and take him home.

Instead Sam had been trapped on the bed by Heather's weight. He'd seen the look in the inhuman eyes and knew there was no trace of the woman who had fed and cared for him while he was sick. This creature wanted to hurt him.

Pincer-like needles had jabbed him in the neck and he'd arched his body, scrambling for purchase, finding none. He was trapped and the Heather-thing had buried its fangs deep into him and it burned.

He'd stared at the ceiling, willing his body to move, but he was caught fast in the creature's hold. The ceiling had shimmered and bent.

On the cusp of passing out, faint hope had blossomed when the intense pain at his neck dissipated to a throb. A cool hand had swept his hair off his forehead and even cooler lips touched his forehead. "It's going to be okay now. You'll see."

Frantic to get away from Heather, Sam had struggled to move his heavy limbs. His body remained lax, and frustrated tears leaked from his eyes.

The creature had reverted back to the human Heather and was standing next to him, frowning with disapproval.

The door clicked shut and with it the last of Sam's hope deserted him.

A/N: I'm going to apologize for leaving you guys with a cliffy for a week! I really didn't plan it this way- it just happened. Please don't hate me. I'm leaving first thing on Saturday so it may take me a bit to answer reviews- but I promise I will. Happy St. Patrick's Day, Good Friday, Easter and Spring everyone! Thanks for reading!