Thank you so much to all those of you who have reviewed/followed/favorited/read so far! I'm so glad that so many of you have been happy that this is still going!
There is violence and death in this chapter…please be warned!
SPN
(McCartys, East of Albuquerque, New Mexico… January 16, 2008)
The scent was in the van ahead of him; Benny had never been so sure in his long life. He'd been following the black cargo van for twenty miles, almost losing it at first when he'd driven past it. Swinging around, he'd floored his truck until he'd caught up, staying far enough back so that he wouldn't be detected. But it wasn't likely; like most of the interstates, the majority of drivers 'stuck together' for miles and, even when the van pulled off down a slip road, Benny doubted the driver would have noticed him.
That wasn't his biggest concern: it was that Sam was now the only brother he could distinguish.
Dean's scent was still there but it was fainter, like he was in a different vehicle. Which didn't make any sense. The Impala wasn't the kind of car anyone missed on the road and he definitely hadn't passed it. And he knew the brothers — it was rare for them to split up, unless they were with other hunters. Benny hadn't detected Bobby or John with them. The uneasy feeling that had settled in his gut was growing as his tires ate away at the miles. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, pawing at his eyes under his sunglasses. The heat and glare of the sun in New Mexico wasn't doing the vampire any favors. It was sapping at his strength — not a lot, but enough for him to notice the fatigue hanging heavy in his limbs.
Suddenly, the black van swerved off the road, dust flying up as it pulled into a rundown gas station.
About time.
Benny slowed and turned too, pulling up off to the side. Cutting the engine, he turned to watch the van. He needed to see what move the occupants made before he made his.
SPN
Dario switched the van off, the aircon instantly cutting out. It wasn't going to take long for the van to heat up and that wasn't going to be good for Sam. Jacob stared out, his eyes narrowing as he inspected the gas station. It was mostly empty save for a couple of other vehicles at the pumps — their owners already in the store — and one beat up old truck that had just pulled in behind them. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled and his gaze slid to his left where he found Dario twisted around, his hungry eyes focused on their captive.
"Why don't you go fill the van? I'll see to our guest," Dario ordered, not even bothering to look at his cousin.
Jacob felt his blood ignite.
"Not a chance," he bit out, struggling to keep his voice low. He wished they'd had the forethought to make Sam wear earplugs.
That made Dario turned to look at him. "Excuse me?"
"You think I'm gonna leave you here with him after you screwed up in the first place? If I'd left it up to you, he would've escaped and killed us both by now," Jacob growled, satisfied to see Dario's face flush with anger. "You can't be trust with him. I, on the other hand, am more than capable of handling the boy. So I suggest you hurry up."
The muscle in Dario's jaw ticked as he clenched his jaw. "Fine." He grabbed his door, wrenching it open.
"Get some medical tape and something to set his fingers with while you're at it," Jacob instructed, giving his cousin a patronizing grin that didn't reach his eyes when he slammed the door shut. Jacob exhaled, turning in his seat to look at his brother.
Finally.
SPN
Sam jumped when a tremor ran through the van, a muffled bang coming through the hood. He shifted uneasily, biting back a moan when his broken fingers twitched. They'd stopped – that much was clear – and he'd be an idiot not to try to get attention… but he had no idea where they were or if anyone who could help would even notice. He braced himself and gave his hands an experimental jerk. The strap holding his arms up allowed him to move back and forth but not enough for him to bang on the wall. Twisting his legs, Sam couldn't even raise his feet off the floor.
He was stuck. His captors were giving him nothing and, though Sam hated to admit it, that scared the hell out of him
The floor rumbled beneath him and he tensed, wishing that whoever had taken him was going to remove the damned hood, but that wasn't likely since they knew about his abilities. Plus, they were making it very clear that they really didn't want Sam to know who they were.
The footsteps stopped. Sam held his breath.
SPN
Jacob sighed, looking down at his little brother. He wanted nothing more than to talk to him, to have a conversation, but…now was not the time. When he revealed that he was back, it had to be the right moment. Doing it in the rising heat of the van was not how Jacob wanted to savor the memory. Sam was twisting minutely; Jacob couldn't tell if he was trying to loosen his bindings or shifting through discomfort. The New Mexican sun was beating down on the van, the temperature rising quickly without the aircon on. The boy's shirt was already drenched with sweat. If Jacob left him like that, he was going to get ill; he'd be neglecting his role as a big brother if he let that happen.
An idea sparked and he walked back to the front of the van, rummaging through one of the duffel bags. He pulled out a water bottle, a knife and a cloth before turning back to Sam.
SPN
Cool air slithered over his stomach as Sam's shirt was pulled away from his body. In his silent world, it wasn't a welcome movement, despite the drop in temperature over his hot skin, and he squirmed uncomfortably, his breathing quickening. Having an unknown entity messing with him was not something he wanted to experience. His growl was muted when he felt something tensing against his shirt and, as he realized what was happening, he writhed uselessly, unable to stop his captor from cutting through his shirt. The moment he felt the tattered halves drag over his skin, Sam grunted, hating how vulnerable he felt. He bucked, earning himself a short, hard slap on the abdomen as a warning before he felt the knife drag along his sleeves until his tormentor was able to pull the ruined shirt away from him, leaving him completely exposed.
His chest rose and fell, prickling under the stagnant air of the van, making him almost hypersensitive. Desperation filled him and Sam pushed out mentally, fighting with everything in him to make something happen. He didn't care what.
He just didn't want to be the victim.
But nothing sparked and he moaned in frustration when something wet and cold what pressed to his skin. It instantly helped cool him but he didn't want anything from these people, let alone a damned wash down! When he tried to move, a weight fell across his thighs: his captor planting himself on Sam. Beneath the suffocating hood, he felt his cheeks burn with humiliation and, for the first time, he was almost glad that they couldn't see his reaction. All he could do was bear their oppressive ministrations and hope to god that something intervened.
SPN
Benny sat, waiting, his eyes glued to the black cargo van. He didn't recognize the tall blond who was climbing out of the driver's side even though there was something intensely familiar about him. But that wasn't the only part that disturbed the vampire.
He was… vicious.
Benny had been alive long enough to know that he was rarely wrong about people just from what they looked like. He could tell a psychopath from a hundred meters without seeing their face. And that's exactly what he was presented with now. That, coupled with the fact that Sam hadn't appeared, was not a good sign at all. Sam's presence would've at least confirmed that the youngest Winchester was okay. Dean's scent was getting fainter by the minute: he definitely wasn't with him.
There was something really wrong.
"Get in already," Benny grumbled impatiently, watching the blond man as he sauntered across the forecourt, his eyes wandering, clearly taking note of everything — and everyone. It wasn't a normal reaction, further cementing Benny's suspicions. The vampire had no idea what he was about to do when he got to the van, but he was going to have to do it quickly; Blondie wasn't going to be gone long.
Benny slid out of his truck, walking quickly across the forecourt to the van, keeping his cap low and his eyes sideways on the storefront. Gravel scuffed the tarmac beneath his feet as he came up on the back of the van. Glancing around briefly, he noted the lack of passersby. Good. He doubted the rear door was unlocked and he didn't have time for the finesse of lockpicking; by now his gut was roaring at him that Sam was in danger — and the stench that had been plaguing him for weeks was the reason.
The vampire leaned in, listening. Even with his exceptional hearing, there was nothing. He grabbed the handle with one hand, placing the other against the second door, holding it steady. With an almighty heave, Benny yanked the door open, snapping the lock. It took a brief second for the vampire's eyes to adjust to the gloom within after the harsh New Mexico sunshine.
"Sam!" Livid shock filled him as he saw the youngest Winchester painfully restrained and shirtless with a blue hood covering his face and a man holding him down. But the hunter heard him: Benny watched his head turn and heard a muffled shout emanate from beneath the hood. The vampire turned his gaze on the man looming over Sam, his own green eyes wide in surprise. Benny couldn't believe it.
Jacob!
"You!" he roared, about to leap forward and attack, only to have the Styne leap off Sam and surge towards him, catapulting himself out of the van and onto the vampire. The two men hit the floor in a plume of dust and grappling limbs.
SPN
Benny?!
Sam didn't care how the vampire had found him; he was simply relieved he had. It was short-lived when he heard the recognition in Benny's voice. His captor… they weren't a stranger.
And Sam had a lot of enemies.
There was no way he could narrow it down with the little information he did have; Benny had been to the Roadhouse. He knew some of the hunters, even if they didn't know what he was. Not that that helped either of them right now: Sam needed to be out there, fighting. But he'd tried to fight and got nowhere. All he could do was sit and listen to the fight going on beyond the darkness and hope that Benny was the victor.
SPN
Dario stood impatiently behind a plump woman in her forties, her laugh loud and obnoxious as she chatted with the cashier. Clearly time was not of the essence for either of them and it irked Dario, spiking his temper higher along with the sweltering heat. The Swiss man wasn't used to such temperatures and it had left him almost permanently irritated for the last few days. Clenching his jaw, he huffed through his nose, about to snap his displeasure at both of them when something outside the window caught his eye. Beyond the fuel pumps, two bodies fell to the ground, creating a cloud of dust as they rolled, locked against each other. Dario couldn't tell who the other man was — he was too short to be their captive — but Jacob was easy to make out. The conversation in front of him stopped and Dario turned, noting that both the woman and cashier were staring, open-mouthed, at the fight.
Well done, Jacob, he thought sarcastically. It would appear that the idiot couldn't help but draw attention to himself.
Reaching around the back of his waistband, Dario pulled out the pistol he'd stashed there. He'd left the silencer in the van, but it was fine: there wouldn't be any witnesses. No one could know they'd been here: not after this.
Lifting his arm, he took aim at the back of the woman's head.
SPN
A left hook to the head sent Jacob sprawling across the asphalt, stars exploding behind his eyelids. A normal hit wouldn't provoke such a physical reaction from a Styne, but then, a punch from a vampire was not a normal hit. Recovering quickly, he scrambled up, narrowly avoiding a kick aimed at his head. His hand shot out and grabbed Benny's ankle, giving it a violent twist. The vampire snarled in agony, the crunch in his knee audible as he dropped to the ground. Jacob's fists rained down on him relentlessly, landing strike after strike in a barrage of strength that left the vampire vulnerable, unable to do anything but raise his arms defensively. Twisting onto his screaming knee, Benny ignored it and lunged, grabbing the Styne around the waist and propelling him backwards, slamming him into the back of the van with a colossal bang. He grabbed fistfuls of Jacob's shirt, pulling him forwards to smack him back, satisfied when the man's head cracked against the metal, lolling to the side.
The vampire shifted his grip, grabbing the human around the neck. He couldn't bite the Styne: their blood was almost as poisonous as dead-man's blood.
But snapping his neck would be easy.
Jacob scrabbled beneath his hand, his elbow hitting the van door as he clawed at Benny's hand. The sound of a muffled cry filtered through the air, catching both men's attention momentarily.
Desperation – unlike anything Jacob had ever known – grasped him wholly. He would not lose his brother! Not again. The vampire had split them apart once: Jacob wasn't going to let him again.
He lashed out with his foot, prying Benny's fingers back at the same time. The vampire stumbled back, letting go of Jacob who went after him with such ferocity that it drove the vampire down, leaving him no room to counter.
Relentless energy coursed through Jacob, powered by the enhancements he'd demanded. He wasn't the weak, vulnerable human that Ajay had summoned. He was a Styne.
Stynes didn't lose.
A final kick hurled the vampire backwards into the van below the open door. He crumpled to the ground, blood pouring from numerous cuts on his face. Benny's eyes lifted to Jacob who grabbed the open door with one hand and he knew he'd lost. Despair for the Winchesters filled him.
I'm so sorry, Sam.
The van door slammed shut, severing the vampire's head in a spurt of blood.
SPN
"Mmph!" Sam tried to call out, twisting his wrists anxiously. He'd felt the van jolt beneath him several times as something – or someone – smacked into it and there had been one last bang before the muted sounds of the fight had gone. Seconds passed like days as he waited, holding his breath.
Please be Benny. Please be Benny. Please be–
A hand grabbed him round the throat, squeezing hard. Sam moaned, his heart aching as fear tremored through his nerves. There was no way Benny would have conceded. If his captor was back, his friend was dead.
Because of him.
SPN
Jacob held on just long enough for Sam to fully realize who had won. While he wasn't expecting gratitude – the vampire had been his friend after all – he knew that Sam would feel it later when he saw how Benny had tried to tear them apart again. He leaned in, resting his forehead against Sam's, still holding his throat, as he sought relief in knowing that he'd saved his brother. Sam squirmed, but it was fine.
And finally, Jacob knew he had his moment.
"It's alright, Sammy, I'm here."
SPN
Air evaporated like water, leaving his lungs dry and burning.
Sam couldn't move. Couldn't think. Every muscle turned to ice and his mind blanked out. All he could feel were the warm fingers wrapped around his throat, the pressure against his forehead and the unannounced tears that trickled, unbidden, down the sides of his face.
He was dead.
This wasn't happening.
He was dead.
"Nothing's going to come between us again," the voice crooned beyond the darkness.
Jacob.
SPN
The relief of finally being out in the open was palpable. Euphoric. He had hated waiting, hated knowing that Sam hadn't known it was him, but the wait was worth it. While it would've been nice to have held off until they were home and Jacob could've seen the look in Sam's eyes when he finally pulled off the hood, the Styne realized that this moment had to be organic. Untainted. Sam needed his reassurance and that was more important than his own feelings. Besides, he would still get that moment with Sam later. And now Sam could enjoy the anticipation of their real reunion as much as he was.
"What have you done?!"
Jacob jerked away from his brother at Dario's bark; his cousin stood in the broken doorway of the van, his gaze rooted on Benny's decapitated corpse. Jacob released his hold on Sam and stood up, walking towards Dario, towering over him.
"What I had to," he snarled, no longer worrying about keeping his voice down, a shiver of revelation trickling down his spine. "He was a threat. If I hadn't killed him, he would've set Sam free. Then you'd be dead."
"He knew the location of the book," Dario spat, turning livid eyes up at his cousin.
"Watch your tone, boy," Jacob growled, his fists tightening. "If you were that bothered, you would've been here helping."
Dario's jaw clenched, his eyes sparking a cold fury. "We'll see what Gemma has to say about it when we catch up with her."
"We can't," Jacob retorted, rolling his eyes and gesturing to the door beside Dario. "Damned vampire snapped the lock – that door won't stay shut on its own. We need to get out of sight and call her: head back in one van. Grab him." He gestured to Benny's body before turning away from Dario, pulling his cellphone out of his pocket. Dialing Gemma's number, he waited for her to pick up, his gaze sliding down to his brother again. He could see the fine trembling of his limbs, the sheen of sweat that had formed again, despite having had it washed it off him once. The phone just continued to ring and he snapped it shut with an exasperated growl. He crouched down again, reaching out to pat Sam's leg affectionately.
"It's alright, little brother. Breathe. C'mon," he coaxed. Sam's chest suddenly inflated and he broke into a frenzy of struggling, twisting and writhing against the ropes that held him down. Jacob grinned when he recognized his name despite being muffled by the gag in Sam's mouth. "Thatta boy, Sammy," he praised, delighted to see the fight back in his little brother, even though it was pointless. He wasn't ever going to let Sam go.
The thump of Benny's body landing in the back broke Jacob's attention and he moved away, reveling in Sam's incoherent bellows as he kicked the body to one side, Dario throwing the head in after it.
"Hold the doors closed until I find us somewhere to leave the van," Dario ordered as he climbed into the van, stalking past Jacob to the driver's seat. "Did Gemma answer?"
"No," Jacob growled, irked by the knowledge that she was unobtainable because of her new toy. "Find us a place and I'll try something different."
SPN
(Outskirts of Mesita, East of Albuquerque, New Mexico… January 16, 2008)
"What do you want?" Dean asked, staring up at Gemma. She was still straddled across his stomach as she idly brushed her fingers up and down his bicep. He was exhausted and aching, his hands long having gone numb beneath him.
Gemma's grin was slow and seductive. "Haven't I made that obvious?"
"That's not –" Dean bit back the aggression that flared, closing his eyes to calm himself before he tried again. "I mean your family. Why are you after us now?"
He hated trying to have a reasonable conversation with the Styne; Dean wanted nothing more than to put a bullet between her eyes, but the more he fought, the worse she was. And he was beginning to think that, if he pushed too far, she would revoke her statement of not going too far in a moving vehicle.
"I'd hate to ruin the punchline, härzli," she replied, giving him a gentle squeeze with her thighs. Dean's jaw clenched. "But may–" Dean's eyes widened as Gemma reeled back, unable to finish her sentence as her hands rocketed up to grasp the sides of her head, her mouth open in a silent scream.
SPN
A cacophony of images tore through Gemma's consciousness. Images on top of images, sounds and emotions cascaded down on her, hammering against her mind. Sam tied to the van…Dario's face contorted in disgust…the sweltering heat of the van…a terrified moan…the back doors ripping open…
A fight. Jacob grappling with a man she didn't recognize.
And over it all: one voice.
"Gemma, get back here. Now!"
SPN
The corded muscles in Gemma's neck stood out beneath her flawless skin until a final ragged gasp eased the shade of purple from her face.
"What the hell was that?" Dean asked her, his frown deep but bewildered as she clambered off him. She ignored him and he twisted back onto his side, groaning with relief as blood rushed back towards his hands. Looking up, he watched her stalk to the front of the van and reach into the glove compartment, pulling out her phone.
"Skit!"
Dean wasn't one for languages, but he was pretty sure that whatever she saw hadn't made her happy. She placed her phone against her ear as she walked back to him, looming over the Winchester.
"What the hell was that?!" she snapped as soon as the person at the other end picked up. Dean watched her curiously as she listened, her glare dissipating in surprise before deepening into a snarl. Abruptly she turned away from him and strode back to the front of the van, her voice lowered so that Dean couldn't hear her.
"Crap," he murmured, knowing that whatever was making her pissed wasn't going to be anything good for him.
Or Sam.
"C'mon," he growled, twisting his wrists. He felt the rope burn against his skin, but nothing budged. No wonder Sam had never been able to get away from the psychotic family before; they were way too good at holding people. If he wasn't having much luck, he dreaded what Sam was going through; they would've been harder on him, knowing that he had power. The thought made bile rise in Dean's throat.
Gemma reappeared beside him, crouching near his head with a bottle of water, catching him off guard. There was no way she was suddenly going to be nice to him now.
"You want some?" she asked, her tone cool and calm as she unscrewed the cap. Dean eyed it suspiciously and she sighed, rolling her eyes before taking a mouthful of it herself. She swallowed and licked her lower lip. "Honestly, härzli, if I wanted to drug you, I'd just do it. I don't need to try and fool you."
"Fine," Dean grumbled, forcing down his resentment as she held the bottle to his lips. Truth was, he was dry as a bone: the last drink he'd had had been alcoholic. And he didn't know when he was going to get another offer.
He was halfway through the bottle when she spoke. "So it would seem we have to make a brief detour thanks to a friend of yours," Gemma huffed, holding the bottle still when Dean jerked his head away.
"What friend?!" he demanded, watching as she screwed the cap back on. Hope surged momentarily: someone knew where they were! Someone was coming. If they weren't here, they had to be with Sam. Relief almost began to bloom in his chest, but Gemma's expression halted it. She leaned over him, reaching above his head, unable to see him roll his eyes against the blatant display she was offering.
"Don't get your hopes up, Dean: they're dead," she replied matter-of-factly. His heart stopped as he stared at her, a cold flush washing over his skin.
No…
"Tell me!" he shouted again, locking eyes with her, trying to scramble backwards when she grabbed him around the back of the neck. "What frie–mmph!" Gemma shoved the cloth she'd used earlier back in his mouth, cupping her hand over it and forcing his head back against the floor as she grabbed the second cloth.
"Shhh… härzli," she crooned as she removed her hand and forced the other bandana over his mouth and tied it tightly behind his head, ignoring his attempts to dislodge her. She grabbed his jaw, digging in with her fingers as she felt the vibration of his growl beneath her grip. She planted a soft kiss against his forehead. "There'll be plenty of time for us when we get home. I promise."
SPN
I'm sorry about Benny! Please review!