Arc 7: Sam, Part 1: Progress

--

Dean cringed as Sam struck Sasha again, clean across the jaw so that the incubus' head snapped to one side. Every time one of them did that to the other Dean wanted to rush in and stop the fight. But he didn't know which of the two he would be quickest to defend. It was hard being the bystander, only allowed to watch as the other two trained and traded blows. It brought back shades of that old inferiority because apparently Dean was too fragile to join in whenever they were really going at it. Though Dean did have to admit he never wanted to be on the receiving end of any of those blows.

Suddenly, Sasha pulled away and managed to catch another punch of Sam's that had been aimed at his face. He squeezed Sam's fist hard enough to make the taller man grimace. Then before Sam could retaliate Sasha slammed his free hand open-palmed into Sam's chest and sent the other hunter stumbling backwards, winding him.

"You're still doing it," Sasha shook his head, staying away so they could take a moment to catch their breaths. Both of them were shirtless and barefoot as they sparred. They had claimed their motel's racquetball court that was effectively a plain square room. Perfect for their needs. "You're still fighting how you always do, as if you had your old strength and reflexes," Sasha went on, "But you don't. You're stronger than me, Sam, I know you are. And you have a lot of years on me for skills and experience. You should be wiping the floor with me. Know why you're not?"

There was something especially enjoyable about this part of the sparring for Dean—Sasha schooling Sam. Dean was also barefoot and in sweatpants, but he had kept his shirt on since it didn't appear he would be getting in on any of the action. It made sense; Sam was the one who needed to be at his best because he was the only one who could exorcize a demon just by looking at them. And that was only the tip of the superpowers iceberg. There was no telling what Sam might eventually be able to do. And it was possible that all of that potential power would be necessary to save Dean.

Dean sort of hated that. But ever since their encounter with the demon Malak they had doubled their hunting efforts and had endeavored to all help Sam hone his powers, which had recently escalated to include these sessions with Sasha. The incubus had been born with his abilities, after all, and knew how to use them naturally.

Sam didn't have an answer for Sasha's question; the petulant look on his face said he had no idea why Sasha kept kicking his ass. It was only a physical fight—Sam surely could have cheated with some TK or something—but even so Sam's physical attributes hadn't only been increased in strength. He was faster, Dean could tell, and with much more stamina. Dean had already come up with several jokes he could use about that.

"Here," Sasha said when Sam just stared at him, looking lost for an answer as to why he kept sucking so bad. Dean watched as Sasha stepped up close to Sam and manhandled his brother's limbs into a relaxed stance. "Let's go a little Far East for this. Your dad taught you some of the martial arts stuff for controlling your breathing. Go there. Close your eyes," he said. Sam did so. "Work on controlling your breathing. Focus. Think of it like this. Right now you're treating your extra strength and agility like it's this separate extension of your body. An outside force that isn't really you. It's not. Your body is responding to you feeling detached from it. I can hone my extra umph because I know it's just another part of me. That's what you have to learn."

Even if Dean knew he was just going to be a spectator, he always sat in on these sessions. Partly because it helped him keep tabs on his super-friends. But also because it was pretty damn amazing when they really got going. Sometimes he felt like he was sitting in on the filming of The Matrix, only these characters didn't need strings or special effects.

"If all that strength and power is in you, Sam, and it is," Sasha said, standing right in front of Sam, almost too close to be comfortable if Sam's eyes had been open, "Then you can channel it and move it to whatever part of your body you need it to be in. You can focus it to one spot, the hand you're punching with or the leg you're kicking with, and totally annihilate whatever you're hitting. You have to let it be you. It is you. Now come at me again," he said, taking a quick step back as Sam opened his eyes, "And try not to be such a pussy this time," he grinned.

A smirk pulled at Sam's otherwise serious mouth. They started circling each other. Dean felt the adrenaline rush building in his own body like he was watching a prize fight and all of his money was on one competitor. Only he still didn't know which one.

Sasha struck first, a quick jab to Sam's side, but Sam sidestepped it and swung a kick around into Sasha's hip that nearly buckled the incubus over. Sasha used the momentum, however, to go down into a roll and kicked out at Sasha's shins to knock him down to the ground with him. Dean remembered that move from his own fight with Sasha, always going for the legs. Sam anticipated it though and leapt before the blow could take him down. He then dove for Sasha on the ground but Sasha rolled again and was up on his feet, instantly moving around Sam's side to punch again. This time it was Sam catching Sasha's fist only he didn't take the time to squeeze it. He grabbed onto Sasha's upper arm with his other hand and swung the incubus around into one of the walls.

Dean cringed yet again as Sasha hit the wall only to bounce immediately off of it as he lunged for Sam. It surprised both Winchesters when Sasha went down fast of his own accord, sliding through Sam's wide-stanced legs. He spun around on his back before Sam could turn around, grabbed Sam's feet with his own ankles and twisted so that Sam finally fell to the ground beside him.

Internally, Dean gave a little cheer. That had been pretty frickin' awesome. But he had to cheer the other team too when Sam had the foresight to roll right over on top of Sasha, forcing the incubus—who was unbalanced and trying to get up—face-first into the floor. Dean had taught Sam that particular hold years ago. It was very effective for pinning and immobilizing. Dean swelled with pride.

But of course Sasha was no amateur; the incubus did what most people never think of—he went slack, completely limp in Sam's hold, and it was enough to slip him from Sam's tight grip. Sasha rolled over and successfully knocked Sam away in no time.

Then Dean felt the build up, felt the gathering of power that he had grown so used to, something that had first happened one cold autumn night in Minnesota. Only Sam wasn't preparing to use TK; he was finally listening to his teacher.

Once both Sam and Sasha were on their feet again, circling, gauging each other's next move, Dean felt it. He was fairly certain Sasha could feel it too.

Sasha struck out with a sure blow but Sam swerved with seemingly no effort at all. He twisted back up, caught Sasha's shoulder so he could knock the incubus back and line him up in front of him. And then Sam struck, sharp and sure with the full force of his palm right into Sasha's chest just as Sasha had done to him. The power behind it was palpable. Sasha flew back significantly further than Sam had, halfway across the room until he slammed bodily into the wall and crumbled straight to the floor.

"Sasha!" Sam cried, shocked at his own ability. Dean jumped up and the both of them sprinted across the room to Sasha's side.

"Jesus, you okay?" Dean said as they helped Sasha get up at least to his knees, which seemed as much as he was capable of right now. He was entirely winded and gasping for air and yet he had a huge smile on his face when he looked up.

Sasha reached out and patted Sam's chest affectionately. "Now that's…what I'm talking about," he grinned out of breath.

Laughter bubbled out of Sam unbidden and soon Dean was joining him and all of them were laughing. They finally helped Sasha to his feet when he had gotten his breath back. He nodded to Sam in honor of a job well done.

"Now…next," the incubus said, "We work on doing one up on Superman."

"Superman?" Sam repeated, lost on how there could possibly be a relation.

Sasha nodded, still smiling and leaning instinctively into Dean for support. "Big Blue's main flaw, besides being a giant Boy Scout," Sasha explained, "Is that he's way overpowered in the DC universe. But he never actually lives up to that potential. You can probably count on one hand how many times he's used more than one of his powers at the same time. He'd be unstoppable if he did that more often. Maybe you can be too. So we'll work on that. Next time," Sasha finished with a more crooked smile, "I want to actually be able to move for the hunt tonight. I'm gonna grab a hot shower. Can you guys turn the room back in?" Sasha eased away from Dean and headed for the door as he said that. It was as if he suddenly remembered it was Dean he was leaning against and had to get away. They shared a tight smile, brief, eyes never quite connecting, and then Sasha was gone.

Dean's eyes followed after Sasha. He couldn't help it. The swells of pride and excitement he had felt while watching the mock-fight dripped out of him like blood from a slowly seeping wound. That was the other reason he rarely joined in when Sam and Sasha sparred. He and Sasha didn't get too close these days.

It was a deep, frustrated sigh that shocked Dean out of his reverie.

"It was nice to hear the two of you laugh at the same time again. Used to be I'd worry if you weren't having sex at least once a week," Sam said beside him, "Now you barely even look at each other. I don't think you've said more than a handful of words to each other in the past two weeks, Dean. What's wrong with you two?"

Not a conversation Dean wanted to have today. Or any time soon. "It's complicated, Sammy," Dean said, making a bee-line for the door now that Sasha had left.

"Dean," Sam said firmly, using some of that super-strength on Dean as he grabbed for Dean's shoulder and held the shorter man in place easily.

It was Dean's injured shoulder but he couldn't really call it injured anymore. Dean's halfway transformation the night they met the contract holder had almost completely healed his gunshot wound, along with fading several old scars—though the one through his eyebrow remained. After two weeks Dean's shoulder barely even ached.

He still resented Sam's hold on it though. "Sammy…"

"It's not complicated," Sam said, forcing Dean to face him. His brow was knit together tightly. "I think it's pretty easy to figure out actually. That night—"

"Sam—"

"—you and Sasha were together and he almost turned you into an incubus," Sam pushed on without stopping, "Something you had to have wanted. You told him that, didn't you? That it was what you wanted. And then you had to take it back. Then he had to hear you say it was an accident, that you didn't mean it, that you don't want to be with him anymore."

"I never—!" Dean was so angry he couldn't get his words out. "I never said that," he finished with a growl, glaring at Sam and ripping his shoulder fiercely out of that tight hold, "I said I didn't want to be an incubus. And it wasn't just to appease that asshole, Malak, either. I don't know if I want to be an incubus, okay? I got caught up in the moment. I meant that when I said it. That doesn't mean I don't want to be with him."

The fierce expression melted from Sam's face as he looked at what must have been the anguished one on Dean's. "But he doesn't know that, Dean. You can see it every time you look at him. If you ever did. Have you actually told him that? If we're not hunting something or working on my powers…he looks like his whole world has ended. He thinks he's already lost you. Have you even been sleeping together?"

"Hey," Dean grimaced, "That's…that's none of your—"

"I mean sleep, Dean. In the same bed. You've had a separate room from me since Pittsburgh, but they always have two beds. My guess is you guys have been using both of them. And not in a kinky way," he tried to add humorously.

Dean felt more like crying than laughing. He didn't want to talk about this but it was inevitable that Sam would bring it up and the brother mojo worked more and more every day. "It just…sorta happened," Dean said, looking anywhere but up into those puppy dogs, "That night…when none of us could sleep and we just stayed up not knowing what to say or what the hell we were gonna do…I thought it was gonna be okay after that. But Sasha got all quiet and…and then at the next hotel when I was getting into bed he just…sat down on the other one and gave me this god damn bleeding heart smile just like he gave me a second ago…" Dean shook his head. They had been moving so fast, rushing into so many hunts to get through as many demons as fast as they could; he had tried not to think about it.

"And you didn't say anything to him?" Sam asked, sounding just as heartbroken as Dean so that it really was pushing Dean further than he could stand right now. Now wasn't the time for this, both of them knew that, but then when was the time? "Dean," Sam said more tenderly, his hand reaching to Dean's shoulder again but with gentle fingers instead of a firm grip, "Without stealing a look, which I'm not going to do, I don't know for sure how Sasha's feeling or what's going through his head. But he needs you right now. You love him, don't you?"

That wasn't even a question anymore. Dean looked up at Sam sharply. "God damn it, Sammy, 'course I do. I just…I…" Dean sighed.

"You still think you don't deserve to be happy," Sam said, and it wasn't at all a question. His hand squeezed Dean's shoulder gently. "You do, Dean. God, you do. So much more than you think. And if Sasha's your happiness than what the hell are you doing throwing it away? I know we don't have time for romantic getaways or the several dozen long talks you two deserve, but you've gotta at least hold yourselves together til we're through this. You'll have all the time in the world after May." It was the same promise Sam kept making, so sure that they could do this and refusing to believe any other outcome was possible. But still a shadow crossed Sam's face as he allowed his hand to drop from Dean's shoulder. "We have to work faster. Ten demons in two weeks isn't enough."

The mere existence of that phrase seemed impossible to Dean. "Dude," he said, "Ten demons in two weeks is a frickin' record. That's almost a demon a day. We're practically blowing through this with you leading us to these guys."

Sam shook his head. "It's not enough. We slow down even a little, have one bad week and…" Sam didn't need to finish. They all knew what it meant if they failed. "That's why tonight and others like it are important, Dean. The demons I sense here…it's like a coven of them hiding out. Fifteen or more."

"I know," Dean said. They had gone over all this in preparation for tonight. They knew they were facing what once would have been suicidal odds. Bobby wanted to come along, much as they insisted they could handle it, but in the end he had gotten tied up with a case of his own. "We need to be at our best," Dean said, "And me and Sasha going in circles like this, all preoccupied and being idiots hasn't been helping. I just…don't even know where to start to fix this."

"Let me help," Sam said, sounding entirely sincere. Then he bodily flipped Dean around to face the door and gave his back a firm push.

Dean would have laughed if that wasn't so not funny. "I fucking hate you, you know that," he grumbled, even though his feet obeyed Sam's not quite order and began to carry him out of the room.

There was a smile in Sam's voice as he said, "I love you too, Dean."

--

Sasha was in the shower when Dean got back to their room. Since he hadn't done any of the strenuous activity himself, Dean didn't feel the need for a shower of his own and contented himself with changing for the hunt.

Gradually, their previously mismatched wardrobes of their own and each other's clothing had reverted to being only their own again; Dean didn't have a single shirt of Sasha's mixed amongst his things or vice versa. That stung as much as their recent silence. How had one night brought them so far only to have everything become horribly severed?

The need for layers called to Dean, maybe more out of need for comfort than protection against the cold. He was ready in jeans, a long-sleeved T-shirt and a flannel by the time Sasha came out to discover him sitting on his bed. Sasha was dressed as well—he always changed in the bathroom now—but his hair was still wet and clung to his forehead. He stared at Dean, so damn awkward and fidgety that it made Dean's throat close up. Sasha held it together on hunts and seemed like his normal self whenever he sparred with Sam, but alone with Dean he was a shadow, a sad and faded remnant.

And Dean was the one who had made him that way.

"Sasha…we need to talk about this," Dean said, hating that words like that even existed in his vocabulary. He was leaning forward on his thighs and had to force himself to look up at Sasha directly. "This…mess we got going. I can't handle another two weeks of it. Hell, I can't handle another second. How long are we gonna play the unhappily married couple here until one of us finally does something about it?" Dean tried to be light, maybe even joking with the 'married couple' line, but his voice came out flat, like it had been ever since Sasha started drifting away from him.

Layered, complicated pain flitted across the incubus' face. Sasha didn't move, he just stood there between the bathroom and bed looking misplaced. His eyes strayed, not meeting Dean's as he spoke. "Uh…yeah. You're probably…right," Sasha said too quietly, "I know I'm…just making things harder. I thought you wouldn't want Sam to worry."

Dean's brow furrowed; he wasn't sure what Sasha was getting at. "He's already worried. It's Sam," Dean said, "Couldn't help it if he tried. This isn't about him. It's about us."

That same pain rippled over Sasha's features. It made him look as though he were about to cry and was using all of his strength just to keep that from happening. His lip quivered as he said, "Umm…okay. I can just, uhh…get another room then."

Dean's first responding thought was 'huh?' Then it struck him rather abruptly what Sasha thought he was saying. "Jesus," Dean grumbled to himself, "Sammy was right." He stood up and approached Sasha then because they had been distant for far too long, "That is so not what I meant," he swore to the redhead, "I want this to stop so we can go back to being us again. I never signed up for this break we've been on, this sleeping next to each other instead of with each other thing. You started that on your own. I thought you…I thought you were mad I didn't let the change happen all the way."

"What?" At last Sasha was looking at Dean instead of around him. "God, Dean, I…of course I'm not mad about that. I thought…" he looked down briefly again, "I thought you hated me for almost getting Sam killed."

Fucking shit. "What the hell is wrong with us," Dean said to the ceiling, a hand instinctively coming up to scrub down his face. He peeked at Sasha from between his fingers and saw that those bright blues were three different shades of confused. He took the hand from his face and used it to reach out for Sasha's. "Baby…you didn't almost get Sam killed. And neither did I. It was that Malak bastard lording his power over us, shoving it in our faces that he owns me. You didn't know that was gonna happen."

"But…" Sasha still looked worried and confused even as he leaned his face into Dean's touch, "You looked so…relieved when the change didn't take. The things you said to that demon, I thought…you had to have meant them."

Damn it. Just when Dean had been starting to think he could salvage things the weight of Sasha's words was enough to pull his hand away from holding the incubus's face. "I…did mean them," Dean admitted, hanging on firm to that blue gaze, "And I was relieved. I wasn't ready for all that, Sasha. Forever's such a crazy word for me. I'd never want it to happen just for me to regret it later. Because I never want to hurt you like that," he said quickly, knowing how badly he was messing this up, "Which I realize now I've done anyway…" Dean desperately wanted to scrub his face again but he knew it was a compulsion.

"Do you still want to be with me, Dean?" Sasha asked plainly.

Dean hadn't even realized he had glanced away until he flicked his green eyes up again and found wet, anguished blue. Love should never look anguished. "I don't know if I want to be an incubus," Dean said instead of answering, "Maybe. Some day. It's not something I can just decide easily. And I'm glad I didn't. But I got caught up in the moment that night because the moment was there, because it's always right here, tugging me closer to you. I can't imagine life without you now. I don't want to. I want to be with you. I got a little over two months left, baby, I want to be with you every second. If I make it past that…then…"

"It's okay, Dean," Sasha said in that soft, always understanding voice. This time it was his hand coming up to cup Dean's cheek, eventually sliding his fingernails back through Dean's short hair. "I kinda got caught up in it all too. It just…scared me so much what happened to Sam. And then meeting Malak and seeing the power he had. I was afraid to…touch you again. Like I carried the kiss of death or something." He tried to laugh but the sound still came out a little broken.

They were idiots so often Dean couldn't believe how many times they seemed to end up right back here again, misinterpreting each other and messing things up. He grinned a little crookedly as he said, "Do you think…maybe we could skip all this…and get to the making up part?" purposely reminiscent of Sasha when the redhead was fitted into his hospital bed with him after Kubrick.

Sasha laughed brokenly again, those wet eyes finally giving way to a few stubborn tears. "I'm sorry I'm an idiot," he said, squeezing the back of Dean's neck as he held it.

"We deserve awards for it or something," Dean chuckled. He was already leaning in.

Kisses just came so natural for them, whether a soft and simple pressing of lips like right then, or deep and possessive the way the kiss started to become. The feel of Sasha's tongue sent a little jolt through Dean's body and he realized how much he had missed Sasha. He wasn't worried about Sam dropping dead; simply knowing the consequences of giving in too much left Dean with a little more doubt than he might have had otherwise. Not doubt in Sasha. Just doubt. It wasn't that he didn't deserve to be happy. It was just never going to be easy for him. Dean wasn't about to let that keep him from enjoying what little time he had left though.

Besides, Sasha had to get his feedings from somewhere, and elsewhere was not an option.

"Are we about done with all this now?" Sasha asked with a cheeky grin after several moments had passed of their kissing, "Coz this whole scene is totally cramping our style for tonight."

And just like that everything was okay again. "Dude, whatever," Dean said, giving Sasha's chest a playful shove, "I'm not the one who admitted defeat for no reason and chose to sleep alone. Next time do you think you could try asking me what's up before you sulk?" The words were entirely playful.

"Right. Says the guy who took two weeks to say anything," Sasha said with just as much snark, "Let's agree we're even, try not to assume so much, and maybe there won't be a next time. You know I love you, Dean. I always will. Sometimes I just…need to be reminded you love me back." A quirk of the old, sad smile crept in.

Dean couldn't have that. "I'm sure I can manage occasional reminders. Long as you stop being such a sap." Dean put a hand to the side of Sasha's head again but this time so he could playfully push it to the side like he would Sam.

"Oho," Sasha laughed at the subtle challenge, "Careful there. I know all the places you're ticklish," he warned and gave a couple promising, advancing steps towards Dean.

"You stay away from me," Dean said totally serious, hands held up quickly in defense as he took a step back. No one was supposed to know he had ticklish spots. It was one of those things he liked to keep secret, like his fear of flying. The only reason Sasha had discovered this was because he had been with Dean enough times and ran his hands over enough of Dean's body to have noticed that certain spots always made Dean tense up for a moment. Further exploration had resulted in fits of laughter from Dean and a very red face.

Reliving that was so not on Dean's agenda for tonight.

Just as Sasha pounced forward Dean tried to turn so he could better get away instead of just backing up. Sasha was quicker though and he caught Dean around the waist from behind, slipping large insistent hands up underneath Dean's layered shirts the way Dean had so deeply missed. But as expected Dean tensed when soft fingers traced too lightly along his sides just beneath his ribs. He had fooled people for years by just tensing but Sasha knew better.

"Stop!" Dean called out, immediately biting his tongue to keep the exclamation from becoming a laugh. Sasha was laughing enough for both of them anyway. Dean managed to squirm away only to trip forward onto the bed. He rolled over just as Sasha pounced on him yet again, this time pinning him with his hips. Dean held up his hands. "No, bad incubus. No sex for you."

For a moment Sasha looked honestly crestfallen until his face broke into a large grin and he laughed out loud. He thankfully did not continue his tickle assault but instead smoothed the flat of his palms up Dean's stomach and down again. It made Dean shiver deeply but Sasha didn't go any further than that, as if he had meant the gesture purely appreciative.

There was a sweetness in Sasha's smile as he looked down at Dean, even though he was still basically sitting in Dean's lap.

"I know you don't mean that," he said, "But just in case you do, I guess I better behave, huh? We, uhh…we good here then?" he said more seriously again, "I'm so sorry, Dean. I guess I was letting that old fear creep in."

"Old fear?' Dean repeated.

The somber part of Sasha's smile pulled at his lips. "Everybody leaves eventually," he said.

Dean wanted so badly to say that he would be someone who would never leave but he couldn't promise that. He didn't get the chance to say anything in reply anyway because that was the moment Sam chose to knock and then come waltzing in without so much as an invitation.

Dean knew he should have locked the door. It served Sam right though, his eyes bugging out before he could say anything since he had walked in on a rather compromising looking sight.

Another great laugh erupted from Sasha. "Really, Sam, we might have to promote you from king of the awkward bad timing to the unholy supreme emperor of it," Sasha laughed again, climbing off of Dean and then holding out a hand to help hoist Dean onto his feet, "It's okay," Sasha continued, "It just looked bad. You're safe. Come on in. We were just fooling around."

"Good," Sam smiled as he entered. Then he seemed to recognize how wrong that sounded and suddenly blanched. "I mean…not that I want any thoughts of you two fooling around running through my head, but…" Sam smiled, "I'm glad everything's okay. I actually hate to interrupt but…we need to go."

That got Dean's attention. They had another half hour before they had planned to head out. "What's up?' he asked Sam, straightening out his shirts a little better and immediately going for his jacket. Sam was already wearing his.

"They've moved," Sam said, "All of the demons are in one place now. I can feel it. We might not get another chance like this. If we go now we can get all of them in one hit."

"But I thought we were going to make several smaller raids since they were split up," Sasha voiced his concern. Actually, it was Dean's concern too. Fifteen or more in one night was one thing, but that many all at one time was twice the amount they had dealt with when they faced the seven deadly sins. Of course Sam's powers had handled the Magnificent Seven just fine, once the powers kicked in anyway. Still. "Can you handle that many, Sam? That's a lot of demons to exorcize just by thinking it."

"Especially if you're also using TK or something to hold them in place while you do it," Dean added. They had been facing more and more powerful demons and that seemed to take more of a toll on Sam. He couldn't just 'got to Hell' with all of them. Some took more concentration. If all of these demons were even close to that level it might take Sam longer and he would need to ensure they stayed in place to pull the exorcisms off. The fact that Sam could do it at all proved how much stronger he was getting.

Sam also seemed to be enjoying his powers more and was discovering new ones or new ways to use them all the time. Part of Dean thought it was a little odd since Sam for so long had been against using his powers. Now Sam smiled as he said, "I think I have a way around that. Sasha, remember what we talked about before? Can I try it on you?"

That sounded all kinds of wrong. "Uhh…what?" Dean couldn't help intervening.

There was a complacent smile on Sasha's face. "Sure. Always a willing guinea pig long as it doesn't kill me," he said to Sam, "Go ahead." Sasha stepped a little ways away from Dean into the center of the room.

"Wait," Dean called as Sam raised an arm towards Sasha without so much as a word of explanation, "What are you—" there was a sudden flash of red light that forced Dean to shield his eyes. He felt panic swell in his throat immediately because the others were not supposed to just do things like that without filling him in first.

But when Dean dropped his arm he saw that Sasha was perfectly fine. Except for the part about being bound inside a devil's trap that was written in manifested red glowing light.

Dean recognized it right away as a runic spell. But to do something like that without actually drawing the symbols yourself required strong arcane knowledge usually associated only with sorcerers from the Dark Ages. It wasn't something you just did with a wave of your hand.

"It'll take less energy to cast out fifteen of those than to try holding all of the demons in place with TK," Sam said, like what he had done was nothing special, "If it works. Sasha?"

Sasha nodded, not seeming bothered that Sam had basically just caged him. The incubus walked towards the edge of the trap that had appeared around him. Like with any normal devil's trap it prevented Sasha from moving any further than the area the symbols covered. "Awesome, Sam," Sasha grinned when he realized it worked, "You're learning so fast."

Maybe too fast, Dean almost said aloud. He couldn't help it. He trusted Sam but the reason his brother was picking up things at a more alarming rate was because of a driving desire to help Dean before their time ran out. Dean still had his doubts as to whether or not this was the right path. Sam just looked so sincerely proud and sure of himself these days, not frightened or hesitant.

With another wave of Sam's hand the red light faded away, the devil's trap vanishing, and Sasha was free to move again. He walked right up to Sam and grabbed his shoulder with a firm squeeze. "Dude, you're calling on old magicks like second nature. There's no telling what you could do eventually. We really should look into—" Sasha cut off abruptly as he looked at Dean, "Dean? You okay?"

Dean didn't know what expression he was wearing but he knew it wasn't exactly supportive. He would have tried to smile it off but he had already been caught. "Yeah," he said, "It's just…Sammy. You swear you'll say something if this gets to be too much for you, right? If you feel any…different or anything." Oh that so didn't sound how Dean wanted it to.

And low and behold the look that crossed Sam's face was an instant shift into wounded. "Dean…? You don't trust me. I'm scaring you again, aren't I? And don't lie," Sam said sharply when Dean opened his mouth to counter that, "I can tell when you're lying whether I look into your head or not. I know this is a lot, Dean, but the last thing we want right now is for me to hold back and risk sleep walking again. I'm too much pure instinct like that. But if I face the powers head on I can control them. You…believe me, right?"

Fuck. There went the puppy eyes and Dean was just putty. "Shit, Sammy, I…I trust you, I do. I'm…trying to," Dean amended, trying in vain to articulate himself better with hand gestures, "It's just this…power thing still gets to me sometimes. I can't help worrying we're doing exactly what Malak wants."

"Well…we are," Sasha said with a shrug, "That's the point. We're following his rules because then we can be sure you're out of the deal."

"Yeah…ain't that grand," Dean grumbled, turning away, "I'm sorry," he said with a shake of his head, looking to each of them and hating that their worried faces were because of him, "The point is that even if he is expecting something from us…we gotta prove him wrong. You can prove him wrong, Sammy. If anyone can, you can." Dean nodded to himself, maybe to help convince himself of what he was saying.

Sam picked up Dean's shotgun from the top of the table where he had left it after a good cleaning that afternoon. He tossed it to Dean and Dean caught it with ease. "After tonight," Sam said, "Maybe I can get you to believe that." Sam wore a tight smile but he didn't press Dean any further. His gaze was steady.

Dean responded the only way he could. He looked back at Sam just as steadily and gave his brother a firm nod.

--

There were so many reasons Dean should be feeling good right now. He and Sasha were back on speaking—and touching and kissing—terms. Sam was doing great, mastering more powers and still seeming wholly and unquestionably Sam. And Hell, they had already gotten rid of ten demons working towards ending Dean's deal and were headed for a hunt to banish over a dozen more. Dean had his brother, his lover, a chance at salvation, and a brand new hunt. Life should be good.

Which had to be why Dean felt so damn pissy for having a bad feeling about tonight. He just couldn't shake the sense that something was wrong, and his instincts were usually right. He still wanted to believe that his ill feelings had nothing to do with Sam but that was a struggle too. It couldn't be Sam. It just couldn't be. Dean would know if his brother was changing, wouldn't he?

Going off what Sam had told them—that there was a coven of demons all meeting in one place for a singular purpose—Dean had expected the gathering to be in a warehouse district or something. The reality was actually much more convenient, a farmstead in the middle of nowhere that appeared to be abandoned and had a large old barn.

The hunters arrived well after dark, something they were all used to, but what made it worse was that it had started to storm. Thunderstorms and freezing rain in the middle of March were not among Dean's favorite things. Summer storms Dean loved but this kind of shit just made him feel like he was going to catch a cold or something. They had dealt with like conditions on many hunts of course, most recently when they chased down that black dog in Troy, Pennsylvania that had turned out to be a run-of-the-mill rabid black lab.

Tonight wasn't shaping up much better in the weather department. Dean was already caked in mud up to his knees by the time they stealthed their way over to the side of the barn. There was a strange, unearthly light emanating from the building. All of the demons were already inside according to Sam. Dean and the others had unanimously decided not to split up and therefore they all climbed up the soaking wet and rather rotted hay stacks to get a look through one of the broken barn windows.

"Jesus," Dean whispered in exclamation, the irony of that particular word choice not at all lost on him in this situation, "Sorry to knock your powers down a peg, Sammy, but this is twice as many as we were thinking."

"Twenty-five," Sasha said, eyes trained on the gathering through the window.

Dean all but rolled his eyes. "Thanks for that, Rain Man. But you miss my point. We gotta abort this thing. There's too many for you, Sammy. And Sasha and I cannot pick up that much slack. This is crazy."

"What are they doing?" Sasha asked somewhat absently, clearly not paying attention to what Dean had just said, "They're all just standing around."

"With that one demon in the center," Sam continued, indicating a dark-haired young man standing on a platform in the middle of the barn with the other demons around him. All of their eyes were open, revealing their full-on black eyes, but the young man in the center had his closed. "They must be performing some kind of ritual."

"Hey," Dean growled out low in his throat, "Either of you care to listen to the voice of reason over here? We need to go. This is over our heads. Listen to yourselves. We don't even know what's going on."

That should have been enough sound reasoning to convince the usually logical guys of their trio but when they turned to look at Dean with frightening symmetry and determined expressions Dean already knew he was screwed.

Why was it always them ganging up on him anyway?

"Dean," Sam said slow and calculating like he needed to speak that way for Dean's benefit or something, "We can't just walk away now. Whatever they're doing in there we're talking about some seriously bad mojo. I can feel it."

"I can feel it too," Sasha nodded, "Like pure demonic power on overdrive."

Dean really didn't understand why they were dismissing his suggestion then. They needed to move their asses and get out of there. "All the more reason to go, you idiots," he said, "Sammy, this gathering, ritual, whatever thing they're doing in there is big enough that it threw off your radar. This could go from bad to worse real fast."

"Dean, the only reason my radar was thrown off is because I've been spending extra energy shielding us so they won't sense us coming. I'm not exactly going to need to do that anymore once we drop in. I can handle that many, I know I can. I'm not saying it'll be easy. But if we leave now there's no telling what might happen. That ritual in there could…it could blow up all the neighboring towns for all we know."

"Actually…" came Sasha's voice with a leading lilt. He was looking through the window again. The barn was large all right and mostly empty other than the demons. There didn't seem to be a visible source for all that strange light either, ghostly and blue. "Look at all the reversed pentagrams they've drawn," Sasha said, attempting to point at some of them through the glass. There were several, like backwards devil's traps. "I think it's some kind of channeling ritual. Notice anything about the hosts?" Sasha glanced back at them with raised eyebrows.

Together Dean and Sam peered closer, trying to be careful not to be too conspicuous even though that didn't seem to really matter since the demons all looked pretty damn focused on their leader in the middle. Dean wasn't sure what he was supposed to be looking for in the hosts though. There was no general age or description to any of them, male and female alike of varying ethnicity and stature.

Then Dean noticed something about the young man in the center. There was blood on his shirt and a small hole as though he had been shot. Dean wasn't sure which he felt more, revulsion or relief. "They're all…dead," he said with a grimace, "Like were dead before the demons took them, dead." Most of them were in fairly good shape, obviously recently dead, but Dean could see a few that hadn't gone out nicely—a broken neck, slit wrists, stab wounds. Dean shuddered. Demons or not he frickin' hated zombies.

"At least we don't have to worry about trying not to hurt the bodies," Sam said in a hollow voice, "But there's no doubt now that this is big if they're purposely using dead hosts. Demons generally don't possess the dead. The living is more…enjoyable, has more options. They're doing this to better channel their demonic energy so that a human soul can't get in the way."

"And they're focusing all of it on that one guy…" Dean said, feeling more than ever that it would be best if they high-tailed it out of there. Fast. "Why put all their eggs in one basket? That one guy goes down it's a waste of almost thirty demons."

Sasha huffed. "Assuming it would even be possible to take that one guy down. They're making a demon super soldier in their, Dean. And I'll give you one guess as to why." Sasha turned his piercing blue gaze none too subtly onto Sam. "Word travels fast, Sam. They must know we're after them. They're probably thinking preemptive strike here. We gotta stop 'em."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait," Dean said jumped in, holding up a hand for them to just pause and think for a minute. He looked firm but beseeching at both of his companions. "Guys, just hang on, okay. We don't know if our guess is right and we sure don't know if the purpose is to send some super demon after Sammy. If we're gonna do this then we better have one damn good plan. One wrong move and we are toast. Period."

At least that bit of sense seemed to make an impression on Sam and Sasha. They both seemed to be stepping back a minute and thinking very carefully about how they should proceed. Dean did as well but every possibility he came up with seemed more and more crazy and suicidal.

Then it hit him. He wasn't thrilled about it but it was probably their best bet. He was just happy Sam and Sasha were only vulnerable to devil's traps. Not salt lines.

"Sam, you sure you can hold all of them with those red light devil's traps of yours?" Dean asked.

Sam blinked at Dean slowly, the shadow of a smile on his lips. "Yeah."

"Okay. Well in case a couple slip free while you're working your mojo…I got an idea."

The fun part would be dropping in from the old skylight-like window on top of the roof.

Sasha was able to fly both of them up there, the wood creaking unhappily under their weight, and then once they were ready and Sam swore he knew what he was doing, the younger Winchester jumped into the hole, landing unharmed and easily right on top of the platform next to the center guy. Snarls and something like roars erupted from all of the demons, only that center man remaining still and docile.

Sam was fast, Dean had to give him that, because before the first of the demons had even thought to rush him he had already thrown out his right arm with that same flash of red light Dean saw in the motel. Twenty-five glowing devil's traps formed, capturing all of the demons in an instant, including Mr. Centerpoint. Sam closed his eyes, raised up both of his hands and just concentrated.

As the process of exorcizing the many demons began, Sasha, with Dean safely in his arms, dove down through the skylight. They landed just below the platform in front of Sam and Sasha immediately set Dean on his feet. The incubus couldn't risk getting caught in one of the devil's traps. His job was to stay by Sam and make sure none of the demons reached him should they escape. It was up to Dean to make sure none of them got out of the building since he was the only one who could move freely throughout the room. For now they merely watched, scanning for any flickering traps. Dean clutched his shotgun in preparation.

Just as they feared the gathered and concentrated power of the demons was more than Sam had dealt with before. A quick glance showed sweat beading on his forehead and a deeply furrowed brow. He was having trouble holding all of the traps while trying to banish the demons at the same time.

"He looking a little strained to you?" Dean said aside to the still incubus-looking Sasha.

Sasha bit his lip, his fangs pulling at the skin, but said nothing.

A louder howl erupted from somewhere near the back row of demons and Sasha's wings shot out behind him, tense and ready, his claws curled as a low growl began in his throat. Dean turned towards the sound as well and saw it. One of the outer traps was flickering.

Dean immediately took off, shotgun ready, sprinting between demons, many of which tried to grab for him but couldn't because of the traps. Just as Dean reached the one that had been wavering, the red light around that demon went out completely. Dean stopped and cocked the shotgun, ready to fire a blast of rocksalt into the damn thing's face should it try and go for Sammy.

Then the demon did the other thing they had feared. It didn't go for Sam. It turned tail and ran straight for the main door. Dean took off after it. They couldn't afford to let any demons get away. Every last one of them was part of the key to Dean's freedom. Dean sort of had to grin then when the demon reached the door, threw it open, and found he had nowhere to go.

They had salted every last possible entrance in and out of the barn.

The demon turned back to Dean with barred teeth. It was a man who didn't look all that dead really other than the sickly pallor to his skin. Disease had taken him maybe, or internal injuries that weren't outwardly visible. It didn't really matter. All that mattered was that these bodies were expendable because they had already expired.

"No late checkout today, pal," Dean said, raising the shotgun to fire, "So sorry."

The gun went off with a crack and Dean hit the barn floor hard, having struck nothing. He looked behind him and saw that two more demons had gotten free and now had hold of his ankles. Wonderful.

"Sam!" Dean yelled, kicking the demons away. He managed to free one leg and watched as that demon instantly became entrapped again by a red light devil's trap. Sam was doing his best. That was as much as Dean could ask for.

At least Dean hadn't lost the shotgun. He rolled over onto his back, having enough leverage now, aimed at the other demon's face and fired. The demon released Dean with a howl and just like the other one it was immediately caught again by red light.

It struck Dean suddenly that the demons were more interested in escape than they were in Sam. And it would seem that the only way to manage that escape was to go through Dean.

The first demon that had gotten free from its devil's trap, who seemed to be just one too many for Sam to hold, took that thought to heart and lunged for Dean just as Dean was getting to his feet. Dean slammed back against the doorframe behind him, hitting a spot just between his shoulder blades that made him hiss. He understood the game now. The demon was going to try and use Dean to make a break in the line of salt.

Dean ducked to the side just as the demon punched into the doorframe where Dean's face had been a moment before, chipping out a chunk of old wood. Rolling away, Dean could see that the demons closest to Sam were finally giving in as more and more of them opened their mouths to the ceiling and black smoke shot out of them like locust. If Dean could just hold out long enough for Sam to dwindle the numbers then this one demon would be cake.

"Dean!" Dean heard over the roars of the demons and the rumbles of thunder and rain from outside.

Rolling further away from the door, Dean jumped to his feet. He couldn't immediately see the demon who had just attacked him, which was bad, but he still turned to Sasha and yelled, "I'm fine! Stay with Sam!" Dean didn't want to take any chances.

Suddenly, the one free demon pounced on Dean yet again, catching Dean off guard from behind. Dean hung onto his shotgun tightly as he was pushed roughly towards the barn door and their most important salt line. Dean's breath hitched as he willed himself to stop, somehow managing to halt his movement inches from disrupting it.

Relief was short lived, however, because Dean turned to see the demon barreling towards him. He didn't have time to fire but it was more than enough time to pivot and slam the butt of the gun across the demon's face as it reached him. Dean heard a sickening, satisfying crack. Too bad it wasn't enough to slow the demon down.

The punch came so fast and so hard that Dean's jaw burned from impact long before he hit the ground. He had about two seconds to realize he had basically obliterated the salt line before the demon leapt over him out into the night.

"No!" Dean called after it. He couldn't let even one demon get away. Not one.

Searing jaw be damned, Dean jumped back up to his feet. He paused only long enough to fix the salt line again.

There weren't many demons left, mostly just dead bodies scattered over the floor, but no more demons were getting out of that barn. Then Dean was off in pursuit of the escapee, completely oblivious to Sasha's calls after him.

"Dean, wait! Dean!"

There was a steep slope to the right of the barn that led down into a low, shallow river, a clearing, and finally a grove of trees. The demon was running fell pelt over the muddy ground down that slope and Dean bounded after him. He just needed one clear shot to slow the demon down. Just one.

Stumbling towards the river, the demon's footing faltered, unused to flying over that kind of terrain so fast in the pouring rain. But Dean was a pro and that was just the opening he needed. A few more fast, sure strides and Dean had him. The demon went down with a cry as Dean shot him square in the back, the rocksalt burning and sizzling through his shirt.

When Dean caught up and the demon rolled over, just off the bank of the small river and covered in mud—much as Dean was—Dean was surprised to find the damn thing grinning up at him. "You're a fool, Dean!" It yelled to him over the rain falling hard and constant around them, "You're so predictable I feel sorry for you!"

Dean's teeth clenched. He didn't know what the hell this demon was talking about but he knew he didn't like what he was hearing. He reached into his jacket for his flask and liberally poured holy water over the demon's body. It mixed with the rain and burned over the bastard's skin, making him roar as steam rose up from where the holy water had touched him.

But before Dean could speak any snide remarks the asshole was grinning up at him again, so strangely compliant, lying in the mud with the rain beating down on the poor dead body it was animating. "I will follow your brother with a glad heart, Dean…when he becomes king," the demon said, "Will you?"

Fury burned in Dean so hot and so fast he wasn't thinking straight. He fell upon the demon, shotgun and flask dropping from his hands so he could yank the demon up by his shirts. "Sammy is not your fucking king!" Dean growled as low and dangerous as he had ever heard from Sasha, "Give my regards to Malak, you bastard. Regna terrae, cantata Deo, psallite Domino," Dean began, staring unflinchingly into the demon's black eyes.

It didn't look nearly as smug now. With a great shove the demon pushed Dean away, knocking him several feet back to land just as solidly in the mud as he was. But Dean didn't falter.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus omnis satanica potestas…"

Dean had grown used to the sound of a demon's roar—that unearthly cry they made when they knew their time was up. Maybe this demon knew nothing of 'Malak', but it still understood that Dean was owned by something more powerful than itself. It would sooner face Hell than risk the wrath of the contract holder should it accidentally harm Dean while trying to stop him.

The last of the ritual fell from Dean's lips like a curse, "Benedictus Deus. Gloria Patri," and black smoke poured from the host's mouth leaving behind only a hollow husk with yellow skin and wide dead eyes. Dean couldn't help the smirk that crawled onto his lips after that. "Knew finally memorizing that damn thing would come in handy."

Dean would have been content to just fall back into the mud and lie there after that. If it hadn't been right then that he heard the first explosion. He was perked up and alert in seconds, his head snapping to the left to stare horrified up the slope at the barn. The barn that was currently on fire and emitting loud pops and bangs into the night!

Horror burned through Dean's chest with a terrible heat at the sight of those flames. He was all set to sprint back up the slope and into that damn burning barn in search of his companions, having no idea how the barn could possibly have caught fire in the first place, when the next explosion burst out of the barn doorway along with the sweet miraculous sight of an incubus in flight.

Relief cooled the remaining embers of horror Dean felt as the first thing he noticed was that Sam was in Sasha's arms, conscious so he knew both of them were okay. Dean laughed out loud at the sight of them and how Sam was so tightly clinging to Sasha's neck. This would be his brother's first incubus-borne flight after all.

But then another explosion followed after them and with the combination of rain and confusion Sasha's flight path tilted haphazardly in Dean's direction. The incubus was obviously losing control and needed to land as soon as he could but as he came in low down the slope he was having trouble steering.

If Sam could have helped their landing at all he was either too wiped or too stunned to do anything. Sasha and Sam crashed into the muddy and wet grass about three yards from where Dean was sitting, tumbled a few times, and finally came to a stop with Sam sprawled over Sasha's incubus body.

They immediately started laughing.

Too exhausted and wet and relieved to move quickly, Dean chose instead to crawl over to his companions. It was raining harder now, a full downpour, not that that was doing anything to help put out the fire. Old wood like that would keep on burning.

Dean wanted to ask what the Hell had just happened but he could already tell that something was…off. He could see Sam and Sasha's twin smiles and hear their wild laughter. He watched, transfixed, as Sasha morphed back to human and hugged Sam to his chest.

"That was amazing!" Dean barely heard Sasha yell over the storm, "I almost didn't think you could do it and then BAM," Sasha laughed again, "I can still feel it. Fuck. All throughout my body, ya know?"

The answering chuckle from Sam was low and mischievous. He lifted his head to look at Sasha, still pretty much on top of him and allowing the firm hold Sasha had on his body. "I don't think it's gonna go away any time soon, either," Sam grinned.

Getting close enough to really see Sam and Sasha, finally only a couple feet away from them, Dean almost choked at the sight of their eyes. None of this was funny to him anymore. Sam's eyes were their demon mottled yellow and there were sparks of electricity dancing around them like static. Sasha was the same, his incubus eyes red even though the rest of him was human, with electricity sparking everywhere.

It was then that Sam and Sasha noticed Dean, both of them looking to him with those strange eyes at the same time. Dean couldn't help it. He shuddered down to his toes.

"Uhh…you guys are kinda…crackling," Dean said, feeling a strange sense of fear that he usually only felt when he was dreaming. He swallowed. They both looked like they were about ready to eat him alive. And like they would really enjoy it.

Then they were laughing again, free and easy and not seemingly sinister at all. It was actually kind of giddy. "The energy," Sam said with a wave of his hand, finally pushing up to get off of Sasha's body, which was more than fine by Dean. Sasha sat up too and they both took a few deep breaths. "Exorcizing all those demons," Sam was trying to explain to Dean but there was this strange, goofy smile on his face, "They were so strong, so supped-up. But that guy in the middle, he was the last to go. And when he went, shit. All that energy they'd been pouring into him just shot out everywhere. It had to go somewhere, so…it went into the only things available," Sam smirked, "Us."

Dean felt a cold hand wrap gnarled fingers around his heart and squeeze.

Fuck.

"Us and the fusebox," Sasha said with a chuckle, leaning his head back to enjoy the rain like he was sunbathing, "Thing was so old it totally blew out. Whole place went up in seconds. Man, that was a rush." There were fangs in his smile.

This was bad. A knot had formed in Dean's stomach that was so big he couldn't move. He wasn't hearing this. "All that…evil…demonic energy…went into you?" He knew his voice was trembling.

This time when Sam and Sasha looked to him their expressions were strangely intent. Then suddenly they were reaching for him and there wasn't any time. Dean only had one weapon on him now and he went for it, pulling out his ankle blade and brandishing it out in front of him. He knew he could never use it but he didn't know what else to do.

The intent expressions on Sam and Sasha's faces immediately broke and what Dean read on them wasn't malice. It was concern. Shame.

"Dean," Sam said first, his eyes drooping at their edges, "It's us. It's just the energy. Sure, it's intense but…it's not evil."

"Power's just power," Sasha joined in, both of them up on their knees now facing Dean, "It's a crazy high, I'll admit, but we're still us, Dean, I swear. We didn't mean to scare you."

"You have to believe us, Dean."

"Please."

"Stop," Dean held up his free hand, "Just…just stop."

Dean stared hard at both of them, at the way their eyes pulled down all puppy-like even though they were yellow and red and still crackling. As he watched, trying to sort out if he believed them or not, Sam closed his eyes and slowly the sparks of electricity faded until they were gone. He opened them again to reveal hazel that just tore into Dean. A moment later Sasha had managed the same. Dean knew that the energy, the power, was still in them, but they captured him with their collective gaze and Dean had no choice.

His arm dropped.

"Don't ever fucking scare me like that again," Dean said, scrubbing his face even though it really didn't do much to help with the rain, "Fucking energy high?" Dean scowled, "You big freaks, what the hell am I gonna do with you."

And then somehow everything was okay, at least as much as it could be, because Sam and Sasha were laughing again. Giddy. They were definitely giddy.

"This is gonna wear off, right?" Dean said, re-sheathing his ankle blade and finally relaxing. Soon they were all just sitting in the mud. It's not like it mattered if they rushed to get out of the rain now.

Sam was nodding as he laughed. "It'll wear off. Twenty-four hours probably."

"They were definitely gonna use that on us," Sasha said, "Good thing you sensed those guys first, Sammy, or we would have had a very different kind of wild night, I'm thinking."

"Yeah," Sam nodded.

Now Dean knew they were on some crazy high. Sasha only ever called Sam 'Sammy' if he was drunk or dying. "Can we get the Hell out of here now?" Dean said, nodding up the slope, "That fire's bound to bring someone, and considering all the dead bodies…" He turned and glanced further down the slope then where the body the demon he exorcized had used was returning to rotting.

Sasha and Sam quickly agreed that a speedy departure was a good idea and they all got to their feet. It became immediately apparent that the energy surging through Dean's companions was something they both wanted to burn.

Dean was not at all surprised with Sam's next suggestion.

"We gotta do something," Sam practically bounced, "I'd say we shouldn't let this extra power go to waste, but that was literally every demon in the tri-state area. And believe me, I know," he said, closing his eyes a moment, "My radius is a lot bigger right now."

This was so unlike Sam, Dean couldn't help the grin that grew on his face. "You want to go out?" he practically balked, "Like hit the town for some well-earned fun kind of going out? You?"

Sasha giggled.

Sam—somehow managing it while still smiling—scowled.

"Yes, me. What, I can't want fun? Isn't that something you would suggest about now?"

"Well yeah. But then you're supposed to shoot me down and say that we have to turn in early so we can get up and head out first thing to track down our next batch of demons."

"And we should," Sam nodded, "The leaving first thing, thing anyway. Nothing's more important to me than saving you, Dean. You know that," he said perfectly serious. Then his large grin quirked up again. "But as for tonight…"

"Woot!" Sasha whooped up at the sky, slapping both Sam and Dean on the backs with wet slopping noises that made Dean feel even squishier. He had to smile though. They all did. "That's thirty-five demons in two weeks," Sasha said what they were all thinking, "I mean, holy shit, guys, that's crazy. Dean, we can totally do this." The hand on Dean's back moved and went straight for Dean's face, holding it with wet on wet skin.

Well, if the Wonder Twins could survive and come out on top with demonic energy pulsing through their veins, Dean supposed anything was possible. "Yeah…I think we can. So," Dean had to grin, "What's this night on the town going to entail?"

Sam looked honestly thoughtful but Sasha seemed to have an idea because his mouth immediately began to open. Then his cell phone went off with a loud exclamation of Queen's "Don't Stop Me Now" before he could say anything.

Sam barked another laugh while Sasha moved to answer the call, trying unsuccessfully to shield his phone from the rain.

"Yeah?" He listened for a moment. "Cam! Hey, what's up? Uh, standing in the pouring rain covered in mud, actually." He laughed again and gave Dean's arm a good smack. "No, not in a kinky way. You in town?" Sasha had been keeping his old friends posted on where they were. They hadn't exactly explained to anyone about the whole hunting down demons thing. Except to Bobby.

While Sasha and Cam talked, Dean turned his eyes onto his brother, who was trying to flick some of the mud off of his clothing. They would all need a shower before any 'outing' was to be had. And then suddenly one good fling sent a gob of mud from Sam's sleeve right at Dean's neck. It oozed down underneath Dean's collar, reminding him of how gross he felt. He tossed Sam a glare.

Sam, of course, snickered.

'I will end you,' Dean mouthed.

If Dean hadn't seen the expression when they were kids, he never would have believed Sam had it in him. Sam eyed Dean with the most insufferable look. It said 'bring it' loud and clear and Dean was so ready to get dirty. He reached down and scooped up a handful of mud. Sam did the same.

"Guys!" Sasha yelled.

But it was too late. Dean let lose with a good fling and so did Sam, both of them managing fairly direct shots to the face. They would definitely be needing those showers.

Dean didn't wait for Sam to reload. He dove forward right into that larger than life body and brought Sam down hard into the mud. Sam was bigger and stronger, but he was also something like drunk or high and was so not at his best. He just barely grabbed hold of enough mud to smash up into Dean's face again. Dean didn't care though. He had hold of Sam now and was soon giving his brother a good old fashioned mud facewash.

"You are so dead!" Sam laughed as he lashed back at Dean, knocking Dean to the side and then pouncing after his brother with his face and hair totally covered. The rain helped wash most of it away, but they weren't finished yet. Dean tried to crawl out of Sam's reach but Sam grabbed quickly onto his thighs to hold him. He scooped up another gob of mud and hurled it point blank into Dean's face again.

"Oversized freak!" Dean called, laughing so hard he got some of the mud in his mouth and had to spit before he could regroup. When he did it was to tackle Sam back again until they were honestly wrestling in the mud like ten-year-olds.

"Ha! You're just jealous coz you're short!" Sam called.

"Like Hell!"

"Oh, Dean," Sam said mockingly like he used to when he was fifteen and first shot up taller than his older brother, "Can I borrow one of your shirts? Oh, wait, I can't. It's too small for me."

"Bite me, Sasquatch!" Sam's giggles were really getting ridiculous. Then again Dean wasn't really much better and he didn't have the excuse of crazy demonic influence.

"Guys!" Sasha called again, this time actually insistent even though he was laughing so hard there may have been tears streaming down his face if not for the rain.

Sam and Dean obeyed, stopping their mud fight long enough to look up. They also realized that they were currently grappled around each other and completely covered in mud. They turned their mud-covered faces up at Sasha who looked unfairly clean in the rain.

"Cam's not here but he wanted us to know that Eppy and Atty are," Sasha said, "They hate the phone. Long story. But they told him they'd meet us later at this place in town if we're game. Guess they've been waiting for the chance to hook up. It's perfect," Sasha assured them, "If anyone knows how to live it up, it's the twins."

Normally, Dean would have made his utterance alone, but it was further proof that Sam was buzzing from that energy high because both of them responded with the same toned, same hopeful sounding prompt of, "Twins?"

tbc...

A/N: Ta da! Happy Anniversary, Incubus! One year, woohoo! Sorry about the later chapter. I'm just not sure about this one so I'd really like some thoughts. Maybe too much happened? I can't put my finger on it, so please comment this round for me. Next you meet the last of Sasha's old friends. I have to say alot in this chapter was initially unplanned, but I gotta let the boys lead me. Seems Sasha and Sam are looking for some fun now. And don''t be fooled by their easy success. Sometimes things just seem easy... ;-)

Crim