Author's Notes: Well, school is out now, and I have several weeks of off-and-on free time, which makes me happy! My writing will get more attention now, which I greatly approve of. As such, hopefully updates will be a little more frequent. If not, it just makes the story that much more interesting, since you have to wait! It always kills me, having to wait for TV shows and stuff, but it's always more enjoyable that way. I have a lot of other little Supernatural plot ideas running around in my head, but I'd like to finish this story, first. Or, maybe I can finally do some double writing like I used to. Who knows! We'll see.

Okay, enough of my rambling. Here's chapter five. Please enjoy!

Sam stared at his laptop monitor, wanting nothing more at that moment than to just roll over onto his bed and fall asleep. It was nearing eleven at night, and he had been reading up on succubae and researching the deaths of the two men since the early afternoon. He had only taken a break once to grab himself something to eat. The remnants of his trip to the vending machine were scattered about the table near the entertainment center: a ripped up ho-ho wrapper, a bag of empty Lay's BBQ chips, and a bottle of water with a small amount left in the bottom of it.

He slowly shut his laptop and moved it further down toward the end of the bed, then lay himself against the pillows, feeling the muscles in his lower back tighten from the tension. He gave a quiet grunt and closed his eyes.

It was a knock on the door that usurped sleep right out from under him.

Blearily blinking his eyes, the tired hunter waited to see if it was room service, though he didn't know why it would be. Then the knocking became a little bit harsher, and quicker. Impatient, almost. That was when he realized that it was Ruby. He had completely forgotten that she was coming over again tonight.

"Just a minute," he called to her, yawning as he got up and out of the bed, heading over toward the door. When he pulled it open he then stepped aside, and the blonde haired demon moved past him, heading right into the center of the room.

"Hello to you, too," Sam said with a snort.

She turned quickly on him and eyed him with slight exasperation. "I would have been here earlier, but I was attacked."

Sam's light amusement turned to confusion. "Wait, what? What happened?"

"I was on my way here when I was ambushed by another demon."

"Wait, why? Was it one of Lilith's minions?"

"Duh," Ruby said. She brushed some of her hair over her shoulder. "I knocked them off of me and they started going off about how Lilith wants me dead for trying to help you before. I don't think they know we're meeting up now, but just the same, I waited a couple of hours before I came here, in case any of them might have been tracking me. The last thing we need right now is a wave of demons coming after us."

That really was the last thing they needed right now. Sam had his hands full with trying to figure all the information out with the succubus. On top of that, he knew the reason Ruby had come back was so that he could practice his powers. That was hellacious enough as it was. Adding demons on top of that would be the straw that broke the camel's back.

He rubbed his forehead, already feeling a light headache forming. "Let's try and keep it on the down low. Don't come over unless it's nighttime. I'm gonna have to leave soon to investigate and talk to the families of the two guys who died, probably tomorrow, but I'll keep hidden. Until I get this succubus issue out of the way, we can't leave."

"Succubus, huh?" Ruby raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think it's one of those?"

"There aren't many creatures that feed off the health and vitality of twenty-somethings," Sam said, shaking his head. "Especially ones as successful and rich as the woman who just died. Her apartment was just…wow. Anyway, that reeks of greed and hunger, and succubae are famous for it. I'm gonna bet the two guys are from pretty affluent families, too. We'll see later."

All Ruby said in response was, "Hm." Then she walked over to the table, resting her hand on top of one of the chairs. "Well, figure it out soon, 'cause we'd better get a move on if we're gonna keep you from getting killed."

"Thanks for that," Sam said sullenly. He didn't want to think about being killed right now. Dying wasn't on his list of priorities. "Let's get working on this practice so I can get some sleep, talk to the families tomorrow, and then work on finding the succubus."

Ruby snorted. "Sounds like you're getting tired of it. But, fine by me. Although I think now it's not a matter of finding what triggers your powers so much as it is finding out how to use them without needing it. It's like riding a bike. Figure out how, and you'll never forget."

Indignation and desperation by now weren't that hard to come by for Sam nowadays. They had reached the half-month mark of Dean being in Hell; hopefully his brother wasn't losing hope. Dean was strong, but Sam didn't think he would be strong enough to stave off that loss for a really long time. That Dean had to endure it all infuriated Sam quite a bit. Plus, what Ruby said made him want to punch her square in the face. That helped.

He took in a deep breath, then nodded as well.

"All right, Sam. Hit me with your best shot." Ruby smirked faintly.

For the hell of it and just to see if he could do it without any thought behind it, Sam jerked his hand outward, palm open, right at Ruby. Nothing happened. But, that wasn't surprising. She laughed at him almost mockingly, which made him set his jaw and purse his lips. He was going to do this somehow or another without needing that desperation, or that anger. In his head he visualized himself causing Ruby to fly right off her feet and right into the bathroom. That caused a strange tingling somewhere inside of him. Choosing to go with it, Sam focused intently, and with a wave of his hand in front of him, he used his power. Ruby was off of her feet almost instantly and soon was flying to the side, into the bathroom, just as he had anticipated. Her surprised yelp turned into a grunt when she hit the linoleum floor.

Sam was first filled with a strong sensation of pride after the brief pain subsided. This time, without any provocation (or at least only a little), he had managed to activate his telekinetic abilities. Of course, he had been sloppy in his form, but nonetheless, Ruby moved, and that was all that mattered. He stared down at his hand, still feeling that tingle, although now all down his right arm. Slight concern filled him then. Was she okay? He was still looking at his arm, however, when she stepped out of the bathroom, brushing herself off.

"I wasn't expecting it to actually work," she said. "But good job, nonetheless. A lot better than last time."

"What do you mean, you weren't expecting it to actually work?" Sam looked—and felt—mildly offended.

"That's not what I meant," Ruby corrected herself. "What I meant was, I didn't expect you to be able to do it completely without needing to have that trigger. The fact that you can means a lot of good things, Sam. You're learning." She let out a huff of breath. "But I think for the sake of my safety, I'm gonna have to practice on other things for now."

Sam smirked.

. . .

Sam and Ruby practiced for about a half hour further before she left him alone for the night. She seemed quite pleased with the progress that he had made, and told him that she would stop by sometime in the near future, although she couldn't be sure exactly as to when, mostly for safety reasons.

When she finally left, Sam got himself ready for bed and simply ended up falling asleep on top of his bed rather than in it. Luckily, sleep was nice to him, and he suffered no bad dreams or tense moments. More nights were like that than not, for which he was thankful, but because of that, he also felt somewhat guilty. Still, he had even woken up around eight, which had been a pleasant surprise for him. A quick shower and breakfast later and he went on his way to visiting the families of the two men that had been picked up by the succubus.

Information from them confirmed his belief that it was, in fact, what he thought it was.

The first man who died had still been living at home. Sam had spoken with his parents about the case, who had given much more detail about it than he actually needed. But they seemed quite hopeful that someone would figure out what had happened and would bring justice and closure to the situation. His name was Bart, and he often partied and hung out with friends late at night. He, too, had visited the Egyptian Club when it first opened, which set off little alarms in Sam's head. Two out of three meant there was at least a slight pattern.

When Sam went to visit the family of the second man, he ended up speaking with the victim's sister. It seemed that he lived alone in a studio apartment, but because of his close-knit relationship with her, she knew what had been going on with him, and had been worried about him. Like the other two, this man—named Tarren—had gone to the Egyptian Club upon its opening.

Three out of three meant he had a location. Now all that it was going to take was going to the club and trying to find the succubus. This would have been the time he would have spoken with Dean, would have tried coming up with some sort of plan. Going by himself was dangerous, especially if he got too close and didn't figure it out before it was too late. But he couldn't ask Bobby…and he certainly couldn't ask Ruby. If the two of them were out in public together and were seen by the wrong person, it would be absolute hell.

No pun intended.

Sam returned to his motel room sometime that late afternoon, somewhat tired from having driven halfway across the city just to visit one of the families. When he stepped inside, he was hit with a sad wave of nostalgia. Even if he had been dealing with it for some time now, there were still moments here and there where he had to just stop and think about how strange and uncomfortable it was that Dean wasn't there with him. Now seemed to be one of those moments. Sam stared at the second bed in the room, feeling that familiar aching in his heart. He missed Dean. He would have even given the world if it meant just hearing him once. Sure, he could recall his brother's voice inside of his head, but it didn't compare to the way it sounded coming from the other.

That seemed incredibly cheesy and almost disgustingly sappy to Sam when he thought about it, but he didn't really care. It wasn't like anyone was reading his thoughts, or would be. And so what, he thought? He missed his brother and wanted to see him. If anybody blamed him, then they were heartless and deserved to be slaughtered.

Sam blinked. Where had that thought come from?

He shook his head, pulling his eyes away from the bed and going toward the table to drop off the keys and his phone. The club didn't open until sometime later that night, and without anybody to go with, Sam needed a couple hours' worth of downtime to come up with a plan on how to defend himself against the creature in question. This was the first time that the thought of opening their father's journal had crossed his mind. He kept it buried inside the duffel bag that he brought into the motel room with him, mostly as a means of protecting it.

For a moment, Sam simply stared at the bag, which sat in the far corner of the room on the other side of the unused bed. There were many different kinds of protection spells written in there, along with the book he kept with him that had Latin incantations for anything from a minor headache to exorcisms. When he finally moved over to the duffel bag and pulled out his dad's journal, he felt that aching in his heart again. The last time he had used this was with Dean.

Sam set his jaw. That deeply hidden relief he had felt previously about having something else to do had been snuffed out pretty damn quick, that was for sure.

He brought the journal back with him over to the table, where he took a seat and began flipping through it. He eventually found an entry about succubae, and in it, what looked like a scribbling of a spell that supposedly protected someone from having one enter their dreams. Sam was smart enough to know that succubae not only stole energy through direct sexual contact, but also from the constant anguish a victim went through when they were unable to get the succubus out of their thoughts. Aside from the spell, the only other helpful thing in the journal was a mention of how the irises of a succubus were black, just like the pupil.

"That would explain why she's been going to a dark club," Sam said to no one in particular.

The journal also made mention of their unnatural beauty, complete with shapely curves, full breasts and supple skin, all designed to lure their victims in. That wasn't particularly helpful, however, because the question then became, what was supernatural versus simply natural? It meant that he would have to be extra careful in his search for a woman who had an attractive figure and nearly completely black eyes. That sounded like trying to find a needle in a haystack. But, Sam had gone up against worse before, and with less to go off of, and had been just fine. He could do this.

So why did he feel a distinct sense of discomfort at the thought of going at this alone?

Oh, right, he thought. No Dean.

In the time until the club was set to open, Sam kept himself occupied by trying to do research on the supernatural ability of 'calling' for someone, but found little luck. Why it hadn't occurred to him to check it out up until now, he wasn't quite sure. But, he hadn't been doing things like he normally would. Having a major part of his daily life just suddenly disappear at the drop of a hat made doing even the simplest of tasks difficult, despite his obstinate denial of this fact. And even if he thought that he was coping all right without him, the truth was that he really wasn't. Half the things Sam was doing were surely to be disapproved of by his brother. Hell, majority of them were likely to be.

But he couldn't have cared less at this point. Whatever it took to get Dean back, he was going to do. That was the only thing that mattered at that moment, aside from getting rid of this succubus so he could return his focus to what was truly important to him. Thinking on that made him realize something. It felt like he was flipping and flopping back and forth on all of this, trying to keep up with what he should have been doing as well as what he wanted to be doing. There didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to his actions. One moment, he was gung-ho about the succubus, but most others, it was all about Dean. And then occasionally, he felt such a crippling ache in his heart that it almost was impossible to do anything.

What happened to one thing at a time, he wondered?

The time eventually came for him to leave, but before doing so, Sam sat in the impala for a few minutes, just staring at the seat beside him. For some reason, he had a flash memory of one of the countless times Dean had drunk himself stupid, making it impossible for him to drive. Even in those moments, he was always so protective of his car. His baby.

That made him snort faintly.

Sam finally turned the engine over and pulled out of the parking lot of the motel room, driving to the club. It had been hell getting there in order to stake it out, and getting there now proved to be just as horrible. He had to park about a block away and walk his way there. To top it all off, there was a line all the way around the corner of the building. He held up the rear of it for a few minutes before some others started queuing behind him. The beat of the music inside could be both heard and felt through the brick and mortar wall. It made Sam feel strangely ill at ease. But, trying to figure out why seemed to pass the time long enough to get him to the front of the line, and, after a flash of one of his dozens of IDs, he slipped inside.

The club itself wasn't anything to write home about. Sam hadn't been to one in ages, and was immediately reminded of why when he made his way deeper inside. The music was horrendously loud, thumping all the way to his very core. There were more people than he felt comfortable with, too, most of which were dressed to either impress or bare everything. There were, of course, a few who weren't—awkward looking ones with whom he could identify. Sam himself had opted for a pretty basic outfit: his boots, relaxed fit jeans, an A-shirt covered by a plaid button-up, and his jacket. He was already feeling warm from all the extra heat of the people moving around inside, but he refused to remove anything. Inside the breast pocket of his jacket was a gun, and tied around his right calf was a knife. He didn't need either of them being revealed, or being used against him.

But he went on pretending like he belonged there. Or he at least pretended as best he could that he did. There was a disproportionate amount of women to men in the club, which he noticed almost immediately upon sitting down at the bar. That was going to make his job a little bit tougher.

For now, all Sam could really do was stake the place out. The woman had died very recently, within a couple of days, which meant that the succubus had probably had her fill and was already moving on to someone else. It was his belief that the demon had overlapped the three, going from one to the next until they consequentially died. A fourth victim had probably already been chosen, and the creature was likely looking for a fifth. This was all speculation, of course, and until Sam knew for sure, he couldn't make any concrete conclusions. He just had to make do with what he had.

Sam ordered himself a beer, shifting so that he rested with his back against the counter. It gave him a better view of the club as a whole. There was so much going on that it was almost overwhelming; his eyes kept being tugged in different directions as one thing caught his attention, then another, and then another. After a few minutes of that, he finally had to turn around to keep himself from getting sick. Now he remembered why he and Dean always did this together. It was so much easier to stake things out with two people.

When he spun back around, Sam's legs came in direct contact with a guy that was standing next to him. He hadn't been there at first, so the young hunter quickly apologized in a somewhat loud voice over the music, looking surprised.

"Oh, man, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hit you. I was just—"

"It's okay," the man said in an equally loud tone, cutting him off. In spite of the strange neon lights placed around the bar, Sam was able to make out his features quite easily. He was of average height, with lightly tanned skin and straw-colored hair. Purple tinted glasses hid his eyes. He was wearing a relatively tight fitting black shirt, through which the hunter could see his leaned, toned build. To Sam, he was your basic club goer. "Didn't spill your drink, did you?"

"No, no." But Sam spoke before he even actually checked his drink. A brief glance at it confirmed that it was just fine. He chuckled. "It's fine." He set it on the bar, then turned completely.

"Good thing I didn't have one of my own yet," the guy joked with a laugh. He ordered himself a Screwdriver, and while he waited, he looked over at Sam, eying him briefly. "Dude…what's with the outfit?"

Sam looked down at his own choice of clothes. It was sensible and smart, that was what was with it. He snorted. "I dressed comfortably."

"Can you even dance in that?"

"I guess." He couldn't very well say that he wasn't looking to dance, because he didn't want to seem strange. Instead he settled on saying, "It's my first time here."

"Oh…why didn't you say so?" After getting his drink, the guy leaned in on the bar next to Sam, getting a bit too far into the hunter's comfort zone. He would have backed away, but that would have put him in the bubble of the person beside him, and he didn't want to cause trouble. "My name's Adrian. What's yours?"

"Sam."

"Well, welcome to the Egyptian Club, Sam. Next time, you should wear something a little more club friendly." Adrian smiled, and in a strange way, it made something inside of Sam tingle a little.

"Thanks." Sam took a sip of his beer, returning his gaze to the dance floor. After the initial shock of the place had now worn off, he came to realize that the club had an uneven sort of floor, with platforms ranging from one to several feet tall scattered about the place. It put people on higher levels than others, and on one of the platforms, there was even a cage. He hadn't noticed before, simply seeing a sea of people dancing and moving with the music.

Adrian's voice caught his attention again. "So, what brings you here?"

Sam turned his head to look at the man standing beside him. "Not much, really. Just…thought I'd come and check the club out. Wanted to be here on the opening night, but I had to work."

"Ah." Adrian took a quick sip of his drink. "Yeah, it was pretty fun. Packed as hell, though. You could barely dance without knocking elbows with someone."

"Can you even do that now?" Sam laughed.

"Good question…" Adrian gave a laugh as well. Then he shifted. "Listen, I gotta go back to my friends. It was nice meeting you, though." He put a hand on Sam's shoulder, which at first caused the young hunter to stiffen. "Could I get your number? Maybe we can hang out sometime?"

Sam let out a somewhat apprehensive chuckle. "Oh. Hey man, I'm…not…you know…"

"Oh! Oh, God. Fuck. Sorry about that." The light haired man grinned. "Can't blame a guy for trying, though, huh? Someone as cute as you." He patted Sam's shoulder then, finally pulling his hand away. When he did, Sam felt that odd tingling sensation get a little worse.

"Yeah."

"Well, at any rate. See you around, maybe?"

But Adrian didn't stick around for an answer. He bit his lip and pulled away from the bar with his drink, quickly disappearing into the crowd. Sam lost sight of him almost immediately after he walked away, and a fleeting thought inside of his head came, telling him to go after him. Sam chalked it up as one of those weird thoughts one tended to have when overwhelmed and not entirely focused on the task at hand. Why would he care to follow that guy?

He took another drink of his beer. He was in for a long night.