Twisted Love
Disclaimer: Don't own Supernatural, but I do own Johnny, Kit, their parents, and Jack Foel.
Author's Note: One-hundred-and-fifty-eight hits, with onlytwo reviews and four alerts. Am I the only one who sees somethign wrong with this picture? Reviews make this come out quicker.
Warnings: Slash. Don't like, don't read, and don't review.
Chapter 2: Finding the Cause
It eased past the defences Dean had set around the room. Salt, cats eye shells, even a little holy water sprinkled here and there. He was expecting something. He wasn't expecting his defences to have no effect. You can't keep something out when it isn't there to begin with. And so it moved around the room like nothing more then a shadow, leaving no evidence of its visit as it moved, and came to the side of Dean's bed, watching him as he slept.
"I haven't forgotten you." It whispered, brushing a stray lock of hair out of his face. It smiled as the young hunter shivered, and then it reached over and pulled his blankets up to cover him more. "Rest tonight, my weary hunter," it cooed, leaning down so that their lips brushed momentarily. It felt a rush of exhilaration from that brief touch, before it pulled back. And then it was gone.
Sam's eyes opened, and he sat up slowly, looking around the room. He didn't expect to see anything, but when his gaze fell on Dean, he felt his breath catch in his throat. He took in the pale skin, light blue lips, and felt as though his heart stopped beating for a few seconds. Then those few seconds passed and…
"Dean!" He cried, getting to his feet as fast as was humanly possible. He froze midstep when Dean gave a startled jerk and his eyes snapped open, staring accusingly at Sam.
"Y'know, the first time, maybe a little funny, but I really could've used that sleep…" He trailed off, seeing the worried look on his brother's face. "What's wrong?" He asked. "And why do I feel like I spent the night sleeping naked in the trunk of the impala?" Sam blinked, trying hard to keep that horrifying image out of his mind. The older Winchester sat up, trying to work the tension out of his muscles, while at the same time bring the blanket up around him to try and warm himself up.
"Dean, maybe you should look at yourself in the mirror." Sam said. He went into the bathroom, and took the mirror off its hook over the sink, and brought it back out to Dean to show him.
Dean's eyes widened when he saw his ill-looking reflection staring back at him. "Fuck, I look like I spent the night-"
"No!" Sam interrupted. "Don't finish that sentence." He said in a forceful tone. Dean gave him a sheepish grin, and turned back to the mirror.
"Okay, take it away; I can't stand looking at that poor guy for another second." He said. "On second thought, I'll take it in. Maybe a nice warm shower will fix me up." He got to his feet, pulling the blanket up with him, and took the mirror from Sam, walking towards the bathroom and dropping the blanket behind him as he stepped in, pulling the door closed behind him.
Frowning, Sam walked over and picked up the blanket, dropping it back on Dean's bed as he tried to figure out what could've done this to his brother. There was always the possibility his brother was just sick, but Dean would never admit to being sick if he was on his death bed with mere hours to live. Well, maybe on his death bed, Sam thought, remembering that time when Dean was electrocuted. But never before that, which meant they were going to be looking for some type of supernatural cause.
He listened to the shower running for a few minutes, then decided he was hungry, so he searched Dean's jacket pockets for the car keys, then exited the motel room to go in search of breakfast.
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Dean turned off the shower once the water started to get cold, secretly hoping Sam did not want a shower anytime that day. He stepped out into the steam-filled room, and grabbed a towel off the rack. He'd been right; after just a few minutes of scolding water against his skin he'd felt a hell of a lot better then he had when he'd first woken up.
He glanced into the mirror, wiped it a bit so he could actually see his reflection, and was relieved to see he looked a hell of a lot better as well. The face he'd seen earlier that morning was one that would not attract any woman younger then two years dead.
"Hey Sam, I think I may have an idea what we're dealing with." He called as he finished drying himself off and wrapped the towel around his waist. He frowned when he heard no response. "Sam?" He called, trying to keep the slight panic from getting worse. He opened the bathroom door, and looked around. No sign of his brother. But he noticed his leather jacket had been moved slightly from where he'd left it the night before. Walking over to the chair his jacket hung on, he checked the pocket and found his car keys missing, which more or less put his mind at ease; Sam had just gone out, probably to get them breakfast.
He quickly got dressed, tossed the towel back into the bathroom, and was just about to settle down in front of the TV when the door opened and Sam came back in carrying what Dean hoped was a real breakfast.
"Hey Sammy, is that-?"
"Bacon and eggs." Sam finished, setting the box down on the table in front of his brother. Dean hungrily swiped the box up off the table and opened the lid, feeling a wave of happiness wash over him at the sight of the golden yolks of the eggs and the grease-covered strips of bacon. Sam suppressed a chuckle at Dean's enthusiasm; it wasn't often they got a real breakfast, like normal people would eat. Whenever they did it was like someone had cooked them a feast. "And coffee." Sam said, handing his brother the foam cup. Dean gratefully took it, and then went and sat back down on the couch, setting his breakfast down on the coffee table.
Sam got out his French toast and orange juice, and went and joined his brother at the coffee table, where they enjoyed there once-in-a-lifetime feast while Dean caught Sam up on what he'd learned from Johnny the night before.
"… he didn't give me much; I got the feeling he didn't want to dwell on the subject." Dean explained. "I guess it's up to us to try and put the pieces together." He added. Sam nodded.
"So, any idea what could be killing them?" He asked, taking a short gulp of orange juice.
"Well, killed in bed, completely worn out… my guess is, we're dealing with another succubus." Dean said. Sam watched with mild interest as his brother punctured the egg yolks, and then soaked up all the yellow fluid with his bacon. He shook his head, and returned to his toast, pondering the idea of a succubus.
"Well, if it is, then we need to figure who it's going to go after next." He said. Dean nodded. "What?" Sam asked, and Dean glanced over at him, a look of confusion on his face. "You're keeping something from me." He said.
"What?" Dean asked, getting to his feet, which only confirmed to Sam that dean was not telling him something.
"What is it?" Sam asked. "Don't tell me this is another case of unfinished business that Dad's sending you after." He said, remembering their encounter with the Shtriga not for the first time since they'd killed it a couple of days earlier. Dean shook his head.
"No, no… nothing that good." Dean said. Now Sam was really worried. What could be worse then some creature their father had not killed and was now sending them after? Well, a whole lot of things leapt to mind, and Sam seriously hoped none of them were true.
"You plan on telling me what it is?" Sam asked. Dean looked like he was going to shake his head, but Sam gave him a pointed look and the older Winchester relented with a sigh of resignation.
"Johnnythinksyourcute." Sam blinked, trying to make sense of the jumble of words that had just spilled from his brother's mouth. He thought he heard Johnny's name, but that was about as much as he'd understood. Dean sighed and rolled his eyes. "Johnny told me last night that he thinks you're cute." Sam blinked again, this time in disbelief. Whatever he'd been expecting, it had not been this, though he now understood why Dean had said it was a whole lot worse that unfinished business with a demon. While Dean didn't know exactly why Sam had lost interest in dating guys, he knew something had happened that had caused the younger Winchester's withdrawal from the dating community.
Unsure what else to do, the younger Winchester just collapsed into one of the chairs, trying to make sense of the mess of feelings he was getting. It had been, what? Six years since he'd had even the slightest interest in other guys. Six or so months since anyone had had the slightest interest in him (not including Meg, since her interest had turned out to be a lot different to what it had originally seemed to be).
"He told you?" Sam asked. "He specifically told you that I was… cute?" He found the very idea of someone using that word to describe him… well, it made him feel tingly inside. "You didn't come to this conclusion on your own?" He wanted to make sure Dean hadn't moved on from trying hooking him up with women to trying to hook him up with men.
"He said, and I quote, 'Your brother's cute'. I don't think you can get any more specific then that." Dean said. Sam looked away for a minute, and Dean wasn't sure what he was going to do. But when Sam looked back, he was smiling.
"Well… it's been a while… Maybe it's about time I got back in the saddle." He said, figuring Dean got the idea of what he was saying.
Dean wasn't sure if his brother was referring to going out with men or his inability to enjoy intimate company over the last couple of months. Probably both. Either way, this had gone down a lot easier then he had expected. Sam's smile faded, and he looked down at his hands, suddenly not as enthusiastic as he had been a few moments ago.
"Something wrong?" Dean asked.
Sam looked up at him, and shook his head. "No, just thinking." He said. "I'll be fine." He added, seeing his brother's concerned look. "Come on; let's go see if we can find out anything about these men who've been killed. Maybe narrow down who's going to be the next victim." He got to his feet, walking past Dean towards the door. Dean looked over his shoulder, not quite sure what to make of his brother's swift change in moods. Shaking his head, he grabbed his leather jacket, pulled it on, and followed his brother outside.
"So he seriously thinks I'm cute?" Sam asked as they got to the car. Dean rolled his eyes when he saw a small grin return to Sam's face. He gave Sam a half smile, but refused to answer his question.
"Just get in the car." He said, surprising Sam by walking around and opening the passenger's door and climbing in. Sam opened the driver's door and climbed in as well.
"Where to?" Sam asked.
"I say we go see if we can get our hands on the recent police reports, find out what we can about the victims." Was Dean's answer. Sam nodded, staring out the window, once again with that unsure look about him. Dean frowned; what was with the yoyo effect? "Am I going to have to drive?" He asked, which was his way of asking if Sam was alright. Sam didn't look at him and simply shook his head, turning his attention to the car and turning the ignition, starting it up. Dean sighed in exasperation, and started staring out his own window. There were a lot of days when life would be so much easier if he could just read his brother's mind.
It didn't take them long to reach the police station. Dean rifled through the glove compartment where they kept all their fake IDs, selected two, and handed one to Sam. The younger Winchester glanced at it, and shot his brother a shocked look, giving him a quick shake of the head.
"No." Was all he said.
Dean gave him a half smile, but Sam fixed him with a glare that could've made a werewolf compliant. Dean rolled his eyes and snatched back the ID, shoving it back into the glove compartment and taking out a different one. Sam glanced down at it, grimaced, but didn't say anything else, not wanting to push his luck any further. Dean gave him a wry smile and opened the door, getting out of the car. Sam followed suit, replacing his old fake ID in his wallet with the new one (Sam hadn't actually had his real ID in his wallet since he'd left Stanford).
Dean led Sam up the front steps and inside. The room they walked into was separate from the rest of the station, with a front counter blocking their way to the door. Exchanging a look with Sam, Dean walked up and pressed a button on the wall that had a sign saying 'Press for Assistance'. A faint buzzing sounded, though Dean had an idea it was louder on the other side of the door.
After a few seconds, the door opened, admitting a tall, somewhat muscular man looking to be in his early thirties. "Can I help you?" He asked, eyeing the two young men.
"Actually, we were hoping to help you." Dean said, taking out his wallet and showing the man his ID. "I'm Detective Riley, this is Detective Finn." He said, nodding over his shoulder at Sam. "We heard you were having some trouble while we were passing through, thought maybe you could use some assistance."
The man looked over Dean's shoulder at Sam, frowning slightly as he took in the two young men claiming to be detectives. After a few minutes, with Sam shifting uncomfortably under the man's gaze, he lifted the board at the end of the count, admitting them into the back of the station.
"Thanks, we could use all the help we can get." He said. "Where did you say you were normally stationed?"
Sam and Dean exchanged a quick look, both misinterpreting what the other meant. "St Louis." Sam said, at the same time Dean said "Lawrence."
The cop looked sceptically at the two of them.
"Uh, I'm normally stationed in St Louis," Sam said quickly, "Dean lives in Lawrence. We're just road tripping together at the moment." The cop still looked sceptical, but obviously decided to believe them, because he ushered them through into the back of the station.
"Jack Foel." He said, turning and offering his hand. Dean took it.
"Dean." He said, shaking the older man's hand.
"Sam." Sam said, also shaking Foel's hand.
"So, how much have you two heard?" Foel asked as he led the two 'detectives' to his desk. "I mean, we haven't released much information to the public as of yet. Except the families of course, but they've all promised not to let anything slip until we know for sure what we're dealing with."
"Uh, I found out from a friend of mine, Johnny Fields." Dean said. Foel nodded, the name obviously ringing a bell.
"Fields…" He went through some of the files. "Ah, yes, he was a friend of the latest victim." He said, showing Dean and Sam the file on the latest victim, a young man of nineteen years. "He was actually the one who found him." Foel added. Dean nodded, looking at the photo of the young man, looking more or less asleep in his bed. Dean narrowed his eyes as he looked at the photo.
"Was there anything out of the ordinary? Anything to indicate he didn't die on his own?" Dean asked, looking up from the photo. Foel considered the question.
"Anything to suggest someone else killed him? No, aside from a couple of scratches on his back, he was completely unharmed." He said.
"But…?" Sam said, knowing he hadn't told them everything.
"But… the coroner did mention that his sheets and legs with soaked in seminal fluid." The cop said. Dean blinked, giving him a look of confusion. "Sperm." He clarified.
"Oh." Dean said, giving Sam a look over his shoulder. Sam nodded, and Dean looked back at Foel. "Jack, would you mind giving me a list of the victims names and addresses?" He asked.
"Er… sure, I guess." Foel said, turning to his computer and pulling up a list, and then printing it out. When it was done, he handed the papers to Dean.
"Thanks, we'll let you know if we find out anything." Dean said, taking the papers and getting to his feet. "You coming, Sam?" He asked.
"Yeah, right." Sam said, following him. "We'll be in touch." The younger man said over his shoulder to Foel, who nodded.
"Right, okay." Foel said, watching the two young 'detectives' leave. Then he walked over to a young woman who had just started the job. "Constable, I'd like you to find out everything you can about Detective's Dean Riley and Sam Finn." He told the young woman. She looked like she wanted to argue, glancing down at the reports she had to write. Then she nodded.
"Okay, Detective." She said. "Right away."
A/N: Well, that's chapter two done. Please people (especially people who have put this story on alert), please review and tell me what you think.
