Little Do You Know
He suddenly had that feeling of awareness. Of being in that somewhere between awake and still sort of asleep. It felt late... or early depending on one's perspective. His body had that heaviness like he hadn't gotten enough sleep yet.
Clearly something had woken him but he was too tired to try and sort it out. His body wasn't alert so it couldn't have been anything dangerous. Besides, the bunker was warded against every conceivable threat.
He could feel sleep pulling him back under when a small movement jolted him straight out of the nebulous grasps of unconsciousness and smack into fully awake and present. There was a heavy, warm band of an arm across his back, pinning him to the bed.
He must have woken when Dean's arm had snaked around him. It would make sense that something like that would register to his sleeping mind. It was jarring. He'd always been the holder so the foreign touch must have startled him awake.
This made sense. What didn't make sense was his pounding heart. It was thumping almost violently against his ribcage and had been since the moment he understood what was going on. It felt like a panicked creature struggling to get out of his chest.
He lay in the bed completely still as he tried to calm his furiously racing pulse. This was to no avail, the heat from his brother's arm like a brand against his skin.
A short eternity passed in that position before the arm holding on to him tightened a little more. He was hyper-aware of the warm fingers under his body, pressed against his stomach. It felt like he was being seared by their heat.
Trying not to panic, he squeezed his eyes shut. If Dean were to wake up right now, he wanted the excuse of sleep.
Eyes shut, he focused on the heavy thump of his heart in an attempt to cancel out his almost laser awareness of the heat against his skin.
Then, Dean's hand went even further under Sam, practically enveloping him. Sam stiffened as he tried to stave off the mass of tremors born from the unintended caress against the electrified skin under his brother's palm.
He lay there, tense and rigid, barely daring to draw in a breath. He didn't want to move for fear of waking Dean.
Eventually, he decided to risk it, mainly because his muscles were starting to cramp from holding still for so long. He raised his head as best he could to peer over his shoulder. From what he could see, dark as the room was, Dean was fast asleep on his stomach. One arm under his pillow and the other holding on to Sam. He must have just been seeking the closest warm body.
Sam didn't even consider trying to remove himself from the situation. Dean would wake up no matter what he did so his only option was to stay where he was. The alternative was unthinkable. If he woke Dean up trying to extricate himself well...
Dean moved again. This time he pulled Sam's body flush against his chest, sending a burst of sparks up and down his spine. He clenched his teeth and held his breath, trying to calm the riot of sensation rushing just under his skin.
This close, he could smell that amazing scent from his brother and it was playing havoc with his senses. Every point of contact between them felt hyper sensitized and he spent several minutes willing the live wire of sparks bursting through his body to calm down.
Any chance he had of escaping was gone, Dean had him well and truly held down. They were pressed close from knee to chest, with Dean's warm breath stirring the hair on Sam's neck. He'd never felt so surrounded before.
Slowly, his tense body started to relax as the need for rest returned and the overwhelming sensations dulled. He was lulled into calm by Dean scent and the feeling of being protected. Before he knew it, he was sinking back into sleep from sheer exhaustion, next to his brother.
The next time he woke up, he was alone in the bed. It did not seem like Dean had been there for a while, to his relief. His first thought was on that brief moment during the night when Dean had held him tightly to his chest.
What was that? He wondered a little alarmed. It had left like being pressed against a low electrical charge. He couldn't believe that he was even able to fall asleep from the intensity of it. He'd been around Dean all his life. They were basically in each other's space all the time and that had never happened before. He'd touched Dean many times without that overwhelming rush of static.
Could it have been because they were sharing a bed? But that couldn't be. They'd shared beds many times before, not in a long while but still it had happened. It wasn't even the first time Dean had gotten a little grabby in his sleep. It was just that in the past, he'd have simply pushed him away and the sleepy Dean would then turn over.
So why was he so worried all of a sudden about Dean waking up to find them basically spooning? Could it be that he was worried Dean wouldn't share a bed with him again because of it? It kind of seemed likely. Sam wanted to stay near him but if Dean felt weird about waking up holding on to his kid brother, he might rescind the invitation.
If he felt oddly about it, which he clearly did, imagine how strange Dean would feel. Maybe that was why his body reacted so weirdly last night. He had never had such an intense rush touching someone before and it left him utterly confused. On any given day, he and Dean shared dozens of unconscious touches and nothing strange came of it so it made sense that the problem was the sleeping arrangement. They hadn't shared a bed in several years and the newness of it made common place touches feel intense.
It had been a good intense though. Like the moment before they jumped into a fight, or when they took down the monster. Dean's strong body up against him, holding him in the shelter of his chest. It reminded him of when he used to be small and Dean would protect him from nightmares and all the bad things in the world.
His body may have grown, but he still felt like that boy who needed his big brother's protection sometimes.
Opening his eyes, he looked at the evidence of where Dean had slept. Crumpled sheets and disarrayed pillows. He tried not to think of why he was doing it but he grabbed Dean's pillow and hugged it to his face, taking in a deep breath. A shudder shook his body, remembering. He closed his eyes and just relished the feeling. If he tried hard enough, it could almost be like Dean was right there again.
He made a frustrated sound and yanked the pillow off his face. What was wrong with him? He didn't know what was going on in his head.
Groaning, he got up. There was no use wondering about the random paths his thoughts took. He had a busy day ahead of him. He might as well focus on that, instead of the futile circles his mind was running in.
There were so many things he still had to do. He'd spent yesterday dealing with things around the bunker but today he really needed to get to documenting the case they'd just been on.
It was early morning and Sam had taken up residence in the library. He'd woken about an hour earlier and before he'd even finished getting ready for the day, the siren song of an unanswered mystery was already clamouring for his attention.
He was re-reading Jonathan's journal again. Even though they had already killed the monster, he wanted to make note of everything that had happened and why. He still had some questions.
Monsters usually followed a certain pattern but he still wasn't quite sure how the victims were chosen. By all accounts, Dr. Holland had been a highly decorated, dedicated and requested doctor. She saw hundreds of patients yearly so why did she pick the ones she did and how did Dean fall into that category? It could be that they only intended to kill him because he found out about their operation. However Yantho had been feeding on him, so he must have qualified some way.
To even get started, Sam needed to figure out what exactly Yantho was. It clearly had not been a god, at least not like any of the deities they'd met. Based on its appearance, dwelling and general behaviour, this had been a monster, but what kind?
There were many similarities between Yantho and the djinns they had encountered in the past and this was the first possibility Sam intended to look into. The djinns they killed before fed on blood or certain emotions.
The one who'd held Dean hostage several years ago had built him a 'perfect' fantasy world, everything he'd thought he wanted, while it fed on him.
The one Charlie had encountered built her a nightmare world as it fed on her fear.
Maybe Yantho was yet another kind of djinn. But that couldn't be right. Jonathan had said it was the Mayan God of love. But it created a world where someone who cared about Dean kept hurting him. It would had made more sense to create a fantasy love world.
Distractedly, he ran his hands through his hair, pushing the long strands away from his face only for them to fall right back where they were. He opened the book on Mayan gods again and flipped back to the page on Yantho.
'On the twentieth year, twenty offerings would be made to Yantho. The worthy would receive Yantho's mark and the women would be given many seasons of fertility.
This creature would pick its victims from among its worshipers and leave a flower at the scene, the Laelia orchid, believed to be the aforementioned mark. This flower was native to the region and especially grew in abundance near the creature's dwelling.
The worshipers would revel and celebrate around the victims, save those closest to said victims. Their family and loved ones, bereaved over the deaths of their cherished person, would mourn and ache and wither away to nothing.'
He flipped over to the other gods and the story was the same. There however, were no mentions of what actually happened to the victims during their moments in the monster's grasps so he had no way of knowing if they too saw a dream world. What was noted was that several of the other gods were killed by families of their victims. So either Yantho had been headed on the same route and something changed its fate or it was a different type of monster.
Making a frustrated noise, Sam went over to the chapter on Yantho again. It just didn't add up. It couldn't be a different type monster because it died from the same method as the other 'gods'. He thought on this a little longer. It could also be that it was a different monster who could be killed by a gold dagger similar to how several monsters were affected by silver or iron. It could even be that any sharp object could have worked or maybe it was stabbing a vital organ that did him in.
He swept a hand through his hair again as he thought on this, pulling slightly to feel a little pain. The pain helped his racing mind find focus.
He hadn't seen how the monster died so he didn't know where Manuel had stabbed it. The answer to this would help him answer many of the questions he had.
He also needed to know if Dean was the only one who'd had the dreams.
The possibility remained that Yantho was a subspecies of djinn except that djinn were killed with silver daggers dipped in lamb's blood. Could it then be a case of the silver dagger/lamb's blood being unnecessary? Maybe a djinn had been accidentally killed with a silver blade with lamb's blood on it and the tradition got passed on.
Unfortunately they had not encountered many djinns so he couldn't be sure if the species had many variants or if the three different types they had encountered were the only types out there. That would tell him whether or not Yantho and the similar Mayan gods were subsets of djinn or if they were just remarkably similar.
He sat back in the chair, eyes closed and let his head hang over the chair's back. This helped relieve the stiffness in his back and his butt from sitting in one spot for an extended period of time. Rubbing his hand over his neck, he could feel how tight the tendons were. He took a deep breath and focused on the myriad of warm colors playing through his closed lids.
He definitely needed to know more about djinn. He'd need to find all the books they had on the subject and on any other creature similar. He got up and started scanning files and books, pulling out anything that seemed like it might be relevant. By the time he was done, he had nine books piled on the desk.
He looked at them all and nodding, picked one up. It was a lot of books but they might not all be as useful as they appeared on first glance. He just didn't want to miss anything.
Three hours went by before he was able to pull himself away from the information in front of him. By that time, both tables in the library were perfectly lined with open books, organized and ordered notes and his laptop. Every page was in a precise, straight row, taped to the table's surface in a way that made it easy to understand how they related to the books and pages around. Of the nine books he'd initially picked, five had relevant information. He also had Jonathan Fisher's journal and the original Mayan book opened for reference.
It was as he initially thought. He needed to speak to Manuel about the kill method. He also needed to speak to Henry about the monster. From what Dean had said, he was guessing the kid didn't know much but that might not be the case.
Taking his seat, he pulled out his phone and dialed the number. After two rings, it connected. "Arias. Hold for a moment."
Sam frowned at the phone as he heard shuffling, muffled voices and then abrupt dampening as a door closed.
"You're a brave man calling me right now Agent Page. Or should I say Sam Winchester." The gruff voice said over the phone.
"You know who I am," Sam said with caution. Would the detective make things hard for him now that he knew who he was?
"I'm a detective. Pulled your prints off of your rental."
"Ah. So you probably saw some stuff-"
"Yea. You could say that. Like you've been dead for a while now."
"About that..." He paused. He'd given this speech so many times, that he didn't know where to start anymore.
"Way I figure. Things aren't always black and white. I know this for sure in my line of work and especially after meeting you and your brother. World's bigger than I used to think you know, so I looked at your rap sheet and did some digging. Let's just say some things are starting to make sense."
"You've been busy," Sam absently scratched his hands through his hair. They'd left El Paso only a little over two days ago.
"Yea, well I have nothing better to do. I got suspended."
Well shit, he's definitely not going to want to help now, Sam thought. "Look man..." he began.
"No no!" Manuel hurried to add. "The suspension is more like a slap on the wrist. I'm getting a commendation and promoted to Lieutenant. They found dozens of bodies buried around Three Woods. Some buried for decades. Dr Holland owned the land and they linked her to several of the victims. Of course they don't know that she exploded in a pile of dust so there's a national warrant out for her."
"Ahh..." Sam said. He'd guess that she had even more bodies stashed away at other sites that they would never find.
"Chief only suspended me because I went after a suspect without informing anyone. They don't know that I did have back up so I got all the credit for the find and they're calling me a hero." He said this in a tone that suggested that he didn't agree.
"Good. Take it. If you hadn't insisted on coming, things would have ended very differently. You saved my brother's life." There, Sam paused. "I'm actually calling about that. I needed to know how you killed Yantho."
"Yantho huh?" Manuel said thoughtfully. "That bitch threw me across the room and you were rushing the monster. I was on the ground for a short while. I think I black out for like a second but the gunshots woke me up and the next thing I saw, you were flying into the wall. You dropped the weapon and it fell near me." He recited excitedly. "I grabbed it and snuck up to the monster. It was busy doing something to your brother so I stuck the blade in its back and forced it as far up as I could. Then I severed its spinal cord and the monster and the doctor just... exploded."
Sam was busy writing all this down. "Would you say it was already dying while you were stabbing it or do you think destroying its spinal cord did the trick?"
"I was moving fast. I didn't want the doctor to notice me or kill you and I could see... Dean?" he waited for Sam to confirm before continuing. "Dean kind of fading so I don't think I even took five seconds but if I had to say, I'd say as soon as I sliced through the spine it exploded."
"Did it react at all to the first penetrative stab and dragging blade?"
"It was too busy with your brother to notice."
"Do you remember where along the back you started, how far up you reach, the approximate length of the cut and how deep?"
"You're very casual about this you know. It's making my inner detective senses tingle."
"It was a monster who killed hundreds of people," he said fiercely sitting up in the chair. "It deserved to die."
"I agree with you there but why the twenty questions?"
Sam relaxed in his chair again. "Anytime we encounter a new monster, we document everything we can about it so that if we or others meet another one like it we can deal with it."
"Wait just how many monsters are there? And there are more people like you?"
"I don't know the exact numbers but from what we've experienced there are a lot of them out there. New ones keep popping up. As for people like us, yes but not as many in recent years."
"And you guys are out there killing monsters under the radar?" He sounded incredulous.
"Not quite under the radar as you've seen but we try our best to save as many as we can. To do that we need all the information on any new baddies that show up."
Manuel clearly was a man who could roll with the punches. "Alright. So the monster was kind of stooped but I started about half way through the Lumbar Curve and ended about half way through the Thoracic Curve."
"Impressive knowledge," Sam said surprised.
"I did some EMT training with my sister," he said in a no big deal kind of way.
"So would you say you might have pierced its heart?"
"It's entirely possible but I honestly couldn't be sure. It happened so fast then he exploded." He sounded apologetic.
"That's fine," and it was. He had a lot of information to work with now. "Could you see what it was doing to Dean and Henry?" The monster had had its back to him so he couldn't quite see.
"There were these blue wisps? Smoke maybe? Something between them and the monster," He had an incredible tone, like he couldn't believe what he was even saying.
"The doctor also hit us with blue fireballs," he mused to himself. The method of feeding and attack bared several similarities with the djinn. More and more he was becoming convinced that they were the same if not related. "Alright Detective Arias-"
"Call me Manuel," he suggested.
"Manuel," Sam conceded. "You're helping a lot."
"Anything I can do man,"
"What about Henry? What did he have to say in all this?"
"The kid was a trooper. He lied through his teeth and implicated both Brady and the doctor. He told them how the two of them kidnapped him and Isabella and how they tortured her before killing her. His father is suing the hospital."
"Hmm. So he didn't mention any monsters." Sam was surprised. Many would have wanted to scream what they knew to any who would listen. Especially someone so young.
"We've been talking. He's a smart kid. I think he's thinking of changing his major and going into some capacity of law enforcement."
Sam could understand that need for control. This was a defining moment in his life so it would definitely influence him.
"Do you happen to have his number? I want to see if I can get his version of events."
After getting the number, they said their goodbyes with vague mentions of keeping in touch. Sam called Henry next and he was immediately transferred to his father who asked him to thank his partner.
His suspicions proved correct in that Henry too had visions but not for long. The monster seemed much more interested in Dean.
"I blacked out a few times but it was weird you know? She kept talking about the quality of his emotions. Apparently the monster fed on the feelings that others have for you. The more intense the emotions the stronger it got. She sure talked a lot about it.
When the calls were over Sam had a clearer picture of what was going on.
A few hours after he had spoken to Henry Mason, Sam heard movement in the hallways. Dean was back. He had not seen his brother since last night.
Sometimes, Dean would disappear for hours, doing who knows what. He didn't pry. If it was important for him to know, he was sure that Dean would tell him.
There was a flurry of activity in the kitchen. Dean was working on lunch for them both and soon after he could hear him entering the library.
"Hey Beautiful Mind. What's all this?" He referenced the meticulous arrangement of books and papers covering the surface of both tables.
The sudden pounding in his chest startled him because for a second there he thought Dean was calling him beautiful, before the rest of the sentence was out.
'Of course he's not calling you that. What's wrong with you?' this he aimed at his fluttering heart.
"Just answering some questions about the case."
He felt overly self conscious about his blunder even though it was all in his head and as a result he tried to exude an outwardly appearance of calm.
"Oh yeah?" Dean said, standing by the door. Sam could tell that he was interested from his body language. "What did you find?"
"So get this, Yantho was actually an earlier offshoot of djinn. I found all these documents about the origins of djinns and some accounts of the different variations that some Men of Letters had tracked down," Sam said gesturing to some of the pages.
Dean walked over to get a look at what he was pointing too. He rested one hand against Sam's chair and leaned over him so he could see better.
Sam paused for a brief second as the knuckles of Dean's fingers pressed warmly into his shoulders. The brief touch sent a tiny shock down his spine which he tensed up to suppress. So much for unconscious touches, he thought.
"I-it tracked its victims based on how strongly that person was cared for." He pulled away from the hand that was pressing into his skin as subtly as he could because for some reason, every sense in his body was suddenly focused there and it was hard to concentrate on what he was saying. He was still hyper aware of Dean behind him though, his scent floating over him and Dean's body heat drawing him in like a magnet. "The person needed to be cared for so deeply that their death could cause their loved ones to wither away in despair."
"Like Luke and Mrs. Mason," Dean supplied, his voice a deep rumble grating against Sam's spine. Neither bothered to mention the fact that Dean too had been kidnapped and fed on.
Sam took a deep breath, ready to launch into another lecture and got a lungful of Dean's amazing scent again. Why does he smell so good? He thought distractedly. It was hard to concentrate when all his being was so tuned to Dean.
"Dude. Can you not hover over me? You stink," he said suddenly.
"I do not," Dean said offended, but he still sniffed at his armpits to make sure.
"Trust me. You do." Sam emphasized his disgust, pulling away from him with relief. "I can't breathe." Sam scrunched up his face in feigned distaste. In reality he was just happy that Dean wasn't so close anymore, stealing his concentration and his breath.
"Really? Shit man. Thanks for telling me. I was just coming to tell you that I'm going out to meet someone." He winked suggestively. "Might be back later – or not." All of a sudden Dean was preoccupied and not focusing on Sam at all. "Left something for you in the kitchen. I'm going to hit the showers. See you later little brother." He said this over his shoulder as he left the room in a rush, no doubt to scrub away the imagined smell.
Immediately Sam's good mood turned sour. He didn't know what that feeling clawing at his chest was but it made his heart ache and his throat close. Leaving everything where it was, he walked to his room and closed the door.
He didn't know how long he spent staring at the walls in his room, but his mind had cycled through the same series of thoughts several times. That seemed like an appropriate response to the mood he was in. No matter what, he couldn't stop wondering what Dean was doing and with whom. The more he thought about it, the more upset he felt so he tried to avoid it, not looking too closely at why this was bothering him so much.
He turned over on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Why couldn't he be more like Dean and just hook up with strangers. He couldn't actually remember the last time he'd gotten relief from someone or something other than his own right hand.
He couldn't seem to separate emotion from the act so he couldn't just jump into bed with someone who didn't mean something to him. The only time he'd been able to do that was when he was soulless and he'd felt horrible after.
His phone vibrated on the bed next to him. Picking it up he read the brief message.
Dean
You didn't eat what I made you. [10:27pm]
You
Where are you? [10:28pm]
Ignoring the immediate lightening of his mood, he focused on the fact that Dean would have to be home to know that he hadn't eaten.
Dean
My room. [10:28pm]
Sam looked at his phone incredibly. He ignored the tiny burst of happiness that went through him because it made no sense. Clicking the call button, he waited for Dean to pick up.
"Why are you texting me when you're just down the hall?" He could barely keep the joy out of his voice.
"I didn't know where you were. This was faster." Dean said matter of factly.
"You're ridiculous. How'd your date go?" Damn it. He hadn't planned to ask but the question seemed to push itself out his lips.
"It wasn't a date." Dean sighed into the phone, Sam could pick up little sounds over the line like Dean had moved around on his bed.
"Hook up. Whatever," he dismissed. The smile on his face hurt, it was so wide.
"We talked but I wasn't into it. Kept thinking little brothers might be hiding in her bathroom listening."
He could tell that Dean was joking so he went along with his playfulness and said, "that was absolutely your fault," with indignation.
"Seriously though. I was just meeting her because a mutual friend set us up but the vibe was off. More importantly why didn't you eat what I made you? I slave over a hot stove you know."
"Sorry. I just wasn't hungry."
"You alright?" Dean was immediately serious.
"Yea. I'm fine," Sam sighed and he was fine now.
"You in your room tonight? Will you sleep okay?"
He wrinkled his nose a little. "I thought you'd be gone all night so I figured I'd just stay here."
"Well you thought wrong so if you want to you can come over." He could hear the warmth in Dean's voice even over the line and more than anything he wanted to be there.
"Alright," he said softly. "See you in a bit."
"Yea."
Clicking off the phone, he hurried to get out of his bed, almost tripping as the sheets tangled around his legs. Leaving them where they were, half on, half off the bed, he went to Dean's room.
A/N And that's it. Leave a comment to let me know what you think.
Yes this is a romance however it is a slow build and will take some time to get to the good stuff.