Dark Bleeds Bright

A supernatural fanfiction

(A/N: takes place after Lilith is killed and before Lucifer is back in the cage. Rated M for themes of addiction and wincest. Not 100% canon but mostly sticking to the show's plot)

Chapter 1

Sammy's heart wanted to do it. The demon blood made him feel powerful, like a vicious eagle perched on a tree ready to save the world. Again. There was an ache in his heart that made him decide to secretly seek out a demon. He needed it again. He didn't care how wrong it was, especially after Famine got him to try it again and he had to detox second time, before even getting a chance to enjoy it again. It was like he was forced to recover before he was bad enough to really need it.

There was a voice inside telling him not to do this. He didn't listen. He ignored the blatant knowledge that afterwards, if or when his brother found out he would throw him into Bobby's panic room. He hated the panic room, with a passion. He only had bad experiences there, a deep loneliness that gnawed in his bones. He hated that, and he hated the seizures. But he loved the taste of the thick sulfuric blood, the power as it slid down his throat. And he was tough and strong anyways, and it would be okay this time.

So, he found a demon and trapped it inside a pentagram that he drew on the ground in an abandoned warehouse. This was the fun part. When the demon came and realized it was trapped, Sam sliced the dark-haired female demon's wrist and started licking the blood, feeling raw power seeping into his stomach and his veins. He drank what he wanted - in control, not enough to drain the demon's vessel - and then he exorcized the demon from its vessel. He sent it back to hell. All part of the job, fun and games and saving people from things.

Sam started feeling ashamed; he pushed the feeling down, picturing his brother thinking he was becoming an evil monster like the things they hunted. But he had been psychic from the beginning anyways - not evil, just a part of who he always was - it was okay to enhance it. He wiped the blood off of his face and decided he would hide this from Dean. He told the scared woman that he just exorcized to head to the hospital, and she strangely thanked him for saving her. He did, didn't he? He cleaned everything up and called Dean and said he stumbled into a hunt and sent a demon back to hell. This was after making sure his face was clean. Dean didn't suspect anything - not yet at least.

Dean meets up with his brother. He is driving the Impala and meets Sam at the warehouse.

"Are you sure there aren't anymore?" Dean asked.

Sam shrugged. He made his face a blank slate, a poker face. Though Dean was good at poker and wondered what was going on inside that head of Sammy's.

"I don't think so. If they are, they cleared out," Sam said.

"Okay, let's get some food," Dean said.

Sam isn't twitching yet, he is still high and kind of wanting to use his power, and part of him is thirsty for more. You don't need more, not yet, he told himself.

"Fine. Sure, I mean," Sam says. He knows his big brother likes burgers and women and stuff like that.

Dean drives them to a diner that is close to the warehouse that Sammy was at. They slide into a table and at once a pretty woman is by the table asking Dean and Sam if they are ready to order. The pretty waitress brings the boys each a glass of water. Sam anxiously taps his foot. He reaches for the water and before he touches it, it walls down and is sent spinning off of the table and onto the ground. Did he just do that with his mind? Probably.

He reaches to hide it.

"Oops. Clumsy," he says, bending down to pick it up with his hands.

Dean is laughing - he makes jokes at his brother because he loves him - and doesn't suspect a thing. Certainly not demon-blood influenced telekinesis.

Sam closes his eyes and lets the feeling wash over him. He looks at his brother and feels something he never felt before, wondered what it was. But then just like that, it went away - vanished.

Soon there is a salad with quinoa on Sam's plate and a juicy bacon burger on Dean's. Dean winks at the waitress and starts eating the delicious burger. Sam is wondering if Castiel knows what Sam did, and if he does, would he let Sam hide it? Or will he tell Dean and ruin everything?

Sam starts thinking again that he needs the demon blood, to defeat Lucifer, just like he needed it to kill Lilith. That was a mistake, though, right? Although all of the angels (and some of the demons) had wanted it to happen. They didn't care how Sam felt, or that what he had to do to release Lucifer brought Sam loads and loads of suffering. He swallows the suffering like holy water and smiles, somewhat a masochist and definitely someone that was trying to be a hero.

It would be okay, maybe on a hunt he could secretly snag a dose. No, Dean would notice. Sam starts to get anxious again. If he can't get any, will he be able to hide his withdrawal symptoms? Probably - most definitely - not.

"Earth to Sam," Dean says.

Sam takes a bite of his salad and smiles. It will all be okay.

"Yeah. I'm right here. What?" Sam says curtly.

"I was just saying I found some strange deaths a few states away. A vengeful spirit or something. We should check it out," Dean says.

Sam nods. He is itching for a hunt anyways. This time he doesn't have Ruby to be his blood bag though, as terrible as it was to think of her as that. He realized quickly that he got into too much too quickly. It was either tell Dean and Bobby or suffer in silence and secretly find another demon to bleed. He could always make it look like one night stand like Dean always does. He steals a look at his big brother, noticing the way his chin is pointed hardly, coldness in his jaws. The jaws of a hero.

"Yeah," Sam says to Dean. "Let's go."

Feel the pain, Sam says to himself. If it comes, that is. Feel it. Let it be. And all will be okay.

Sam and Dean are in the car now and they are driving far away. Far away from Bobby's house and the panic room, Sam realizes, grinning.

"What are you smiling about?" Dean asks.

"Oh, um. Just excited to hunt things," Sam says.

"Okay," Dean says. He cranks up the volume on the radio. Sam pretends he doesn't like the rock music that Dean plays in the Impala, but sometimes he secretly does.

They've been in the car for a few hours now and Sam realizes he might start feeling withdrawal soon. He has already started shaking a little bit. He thinks he is hiding it well. Sam hadn't thought all of this through and hadn't realized he would instantly be in the car on a long drive. He had thought they would be in the small shitty town for a few more days or even a week. Enough time to get more demon blood, maybe enough time to secretly build up a stash.

Oh well. Whatever happened would happen, and hopefully when and if Dean found out they would be too far away from Bobby's house to not let Sam detox in the back of the Impala instead of in that horrible panic room tied down on the hard metal bed. He knew they said it was to protect him fom the seizures and from the demon blood flinging him around the ceiling, but still. It wasn't fun.

"What are you thinking?" Dean asks.

Sam can still hide it.

"Nothing, uh. Just sleepy I guess," Sam says.

Dean still doesn't suspect anything, but he would soon.

Sam clenches his teeth and fights through some shivers. He taps his foot and swallows the anxiety. Don't show any pain; all will be alright.

"How far are we from a motel?" Sam asks.

Demons did seem to follow them around, wanting to stop the big bad Winchesters from saving the world. Maybe Sam would find one at a motel.

"Just sleep in the car. We can make a few more hours before we find a place to crash," Dean says.

Shit. It's been almost seven hours since he drank demon blood again. Sam closes his eyes and hides a wince, and then he nods.

"Okay, fine," Sam says.

How much would Dean hate him if he told the truth, right here right now? Would he think he was a heartless vampyric monster? And not his smart little brother that ran away to Standford and was great at hunting.

Sam closes his eyes and shakes a little.

Protect me from the nightmares, Sam whispers a silent prayer to any dickless angel that would listen, or to God, if he was there somewhere.

Surprisingly Sam does fall asleep, maybe for an hour, and apparently, he was screaming through nightmares. Hopefully not prophetic nightmares.

"You alright there?" Dean asks.

They are far away from the panic room. Sam is already shaking and sweating. Maybe it is obvious that he relapsed.

"Just - need - something," Sam bites out the words and then he wishes he didn't say it.

"What?" Dean asks.

That demon had a lot of blood in it. Dammnit. He was already detoxing. He needed a little bit. Just a little bit, and he could hide it.

Then he decides to be brave. He is terrified that Dean will be mad but they are far away from any rest stop or hotel or the panic room. Sam is shaking and sweating and realizes that he has to tell the truth. His bones are aching. There is no way around it.

"I, um, I need..." Sam says. Then he closed his eyes. "I relapsed damnit. I was on the trail of the demon and I was going to just exorcise it but then the temptation was too much."

"Dammit Sammy," Dean says. "I thought we were over this."

Sam shrugs.

"I'm sorry. But now my whole-body aches. And we are already too far away from Bobby's. Please, I need some, just a drop, we need to find a demon, please..." Sam says.

"We hunt demons, not drink them," Dean says, partially joking. "Wait, when that glass went flying, it was telekinesis?"

Sam nods.

"It hurts, Dean. I need some, please I need..." Sam says.

"It's your fault that it hurts," Dean says harshly. Then he realizes that although he is angry, he still loves his brother.

Sam tries to stop a tear from falling down his cheek, but it does anyways.

"I'm gonna climb in the back and try to sleep. Nothing else I can do to fix it," Sam mutters.

"Wait," Dean says. He sees that his brother is shaking and sweating and scared. "I'll pull over and help you get in the back. I wish you had told me what you did before we were this far from Bobby's. As it is now, we might as well still check out those ghosts. We are closer to there than to Bobby's.

Sam breathes a sigh of relief, though he is still in pain and still surging with uncontrollable power. The detox is just starting, and Sam knows that he will get a lot worse if he doesn't find a demon to drink soon.

"So, no panic room," Sammy says wanting to grin but in too much pain.

When Sam gets out of the car, he feels dizzy and almost collapses on the road but then he manages to crawl into the back of the car. Dean gets back in the drivers seat and they are on the road again.

"You gonna be okay back there?" Dean asks.

"Not really," Sam mutters. "Can't you find me some, its okay, I will be stronger for the hunt, need some..."

"You don't need demon blood. It's poison, Sammy," Dean said. Sam can smell disappointment and hurt in Dean's voice. It suddenly makes Sam so sad and nostalgic.

Sam braces himself and sighs.

"Okay. I'll try to sleep," Sam says. He gets as comfortable as he can and decides he will find some before the detox gets too bad. He knows that doesn't sound logical, but since when does addiction ever speak the language of logic? Sam closes his eyes and drifts off, hoping Dean isn't too upset with him for relapsing. After what happened with famine Dean should have known it would happen soon; the desire had been reawaken in Sam. It would have to be okay. Sam stifles a groan and hopes for the best. He is secretly hope that Dean will let Sam wean off instead of going cold turkey a third time, but when has that ever happened for Sam? Never.

To be continued...