ATTENTION! The next chapter of Incubus after this one will be posted by deangirl1, so you will have to watch her for that. It is very important and is canon, taking place between this arc and the next. Please read it when she posts. I believe it will be its own new story rather than an addition to her previous Incubus Redux pieces. The next arc will take place several weeks later. Thank you in advance. Also, thank you for sticking with this, because you are in store for the longest chapter yet by about 2000 words. Enjoy!

Part 10: The Awakening

It was just like being at Bobby's that night when Sasha woke up from his coma and everything moved in strange jumps Dean could barely hang onto. He remembered that at some point Ula excused herself to allow the 'family' their reunion time, being far too understanding for a normal human being really. He remembered how Sasha and Sam exploded into talks about what they remembered, which seemed to be pretty much everything, and how they were so anxious to hear how the case had ended up. Dean was pretty sure he told most of the story about Faust, but then maybe Shiarra stepped in to fill in the blanks more times than he wanted to admit. He was just so tired. Exhausted. He was at the point of passing out by the time he realized Shiarra was going back to her own room in the motel and Sam and Sasha were trying to get Dean into bed.

Dean supposed he had been holding his breath with his heart beating at 130 or higher for the past two days. No wonder he fell asleep as soon as he laid back on the pillows, still fully clothed and mumbling about how it was too early to go to sleep and they really needed to celebrate or something and…and…

And then Dean was waking up and it was early morning. Too early; Dean would much rather sleep late today. He'd earned it, after all.

He was facing the nightstand when he woke up and saw his watch sitting there blinking at him. It was six AM. Urg. Dean rolled over and found the firm, immovable body of Sasha beside him, laying on his back with his chest slowly rising and falling in sleep. The covers were pulled up over the incubus' chest, leaving only his pale neck and face and the glorious red hair. Dean looked down at himself and saw that either Sam or Sasha or both had stripped him down to his boxers which Dean decided to just be thankful for. He wanted to curl in next to Sasha and sleep for at least a few more hours.

As Dean was beginning to do that, scooting closer into Sasha's warm body and breathing in all that wonderful Sasha scent, he glanced briefly past the incubus over to the other bed to check on Sam. Who wasn't there, Dean realized with a start. The bedding was rumpled as if it had been slept in but there was no Sam.

Panic seized Dean immediately. For three nights in a row Sam had woken in the night with yellow eyes, towering or threatening or something seemingly sinister every time. Was it happening again? Dean should have thought of that before he allowed himself to fall asleep. He should have known better. He hated that his brother was starting to come with more of a warning label than ever before. He hated that Sam needed to come with a warning at all. He was just Sam. Just Sam.

Wasn't he?

Dean sat up and threw the covers aside. He had to stay calm. Sam couldn't have gone far. Dean shuddered to think that the yellow eyes would lead Sam to do something to Shiarra or—even worse—Ula. He was half a second from setting his feet down on the floor when the bathroom door opened. Glancing worriedly over his shoulder, Dean tensed to fight, to run, whatever he needed to do, but staring back at him from the doorway, and then entering the main room again with slow tired steps was just a normal, hazel-eyed Sammy.

"Dean…? Is everything alright? You should go back to sleep." Sam walked back to his bed and sat down, rubbing his tired eyes with the back of his hand like a…well, a five-year-old, which thankfully he wasn't anymore, mentally or otherwise. It looked as though he was going to lie back down in the bed when he realized Dean was still staring at him. "Dean?"

"Nothing," Dean said like reflex—it really was reflex for him. He closed his eyes tight and then opened them again, trying to get his bearings better. Everything was okay. Questioning why would just tempt fate to change that. "I was getting antsy waiting for your slowness to get out of the bathroom," he added, "Primping for your dream dates now? Nature calls." Now that Dean had thought about it he really did have to use the bathroom. That was probably what had woken him up.

Sam just grinned and shook his head at Dean, settling back into bed. He was asleep again by the time Dean came back. Dean enjoyed the feeling that he was a little responsible for the lack of yellow eyes tonight. It seemed that getting young Sammy to open up a little more to his powers had done the trick. Dean still wanted to talk to Sam about all that but they would get to it. For the next few hours Dean would content himself with tucking his body into Sasha's and holding the incubus close with an arm hugging his waist. Sasha purred unconsciously in sleep and nuzzled Dean's neck like a cat.

With Sam sleeping peacefully in the other bed and Sasha sleeping peacefully in Dean's arms, Dean allowed one of those rare moments of believing everything was going to be okay. It felt nice.

When Dean woke up the second time it was because the other side of the bed had grown cold and there was sun streaming in through the windows. He was facing where Sam and Sasha should have been visibly sleeping, but this time both of them were missing when Dean opened his eyes to check. As he came to more fully, Dean could hear low voices and the hum of a laptop; he knew not to worry. Of course he was still surprised to find Sam and Shiarra sitting at the table instead of Sam and Sasha.

"Hey. Half-naked, half-conscious man in the room. Ya mind?" Dean said, sounding somewhere between angry and very groggy. He sat up and ran a hand through his short, messy hair, but still made sure that the covers covered him even if he was wearing boxers.

"Oh please," Shiarra said dismissively. She was back to her glamorous apparel, wearing a form-fitting green skirt that flared at the bottom, green expensive-looking heels, and a slightly lighter colored green blouse.

Dean smirked to think that he liked her better in pants, a tank top, and Sasha's leather jacket. Very Slayer-chic. Of course Shiarra had just blinked at Dean when he said that to her last night. "Yeah, whatever, you old cougar," Dean said to her now, allowing his smirk. He wouldn't soon be forgetting that stolen kiss in the parking lot. No wonder Sasha was so good at that kind of thing; it ran in the family.

Sam was fiddling on Sasha' laptop—he must not have gotten his own out of the car yet—and had to cough to hide the laugh that bubbled up within him. Dean smirked wider.

"Say, where's—" Dean had been about to inquire over a certain redhead but just then the bathroom door opened to reveal a freshly showered and already dressed Sasha. Dean realized that Sam was ready for the day too. They must have let him sleep. This was one time he didn't mind it at all.

"We're thinking of sticking around for today since we're pretty well settled here anyway. We can rest. Check out possible new hunts and demon activity. That sound okay, Dean?" Sasha asked as if he had been part of the conversation all along. He was wearing one of his especially low-riding pairs of jeans and Dean's favorite black T-shirt. Dean wondered if Sasha even realized.

"Sounds good to me," Dean said. Normally he hated sticking in one place for too long, but he was sore as hell, especially his poor battered shoulder that just wasn't getting the time or relief it needed to heal. Dean was also more than content to let the geeks return to research duty. And he really wanted his turn in the shower. "Ahem," Dean coughed in Shiarra's direction, holding the sheets to indicate he was about to get up.

Shiarra rolled her eyes dramatically but then politely turned her head, allowing Dean to grab a quick change of clothing from his duffle and head for the bathroom. Sasha discretely thwapped Dean on the behind as he passed him to which Dean turned his head and winked. The whole 'they were kids for a couple days' thing did nothing to make Dean uncomfortable around Sasha now. He looked forward to the next time he could get Sasha alone, though to be honest not only because he could go for a good tumble some time soon. There were things Dean wanted to talk about. Many things.

Dean took his time in the shower. He didn't have any cuts or too many new bruises from the fight with Faust, but his previously dislocated shoulder was almost back to square one—sore, multi-colored, and even a little swollen again. Dean's lackadaisical choice for getting ready was probably why Shiarra was saying her goodbyes by the time he rejoined the others.

"What? You're doing the whole save us, ditch us thing again?" Dean smirked. Shiarra had her purse over her shoulder and was standing near the door. She had already packed up her Bentley.

"Well, you know how much I adore torturing you boys with my presence, but I wouldn't want to be in the way while you're doing your research. And I do have my own things to get back to. If you get the chance some time though, and I know how difficult this may be," she said, looking at Dean with a swift apologetic glance, "Maybe the next time you boys take a little break from all this you'll think about coming to Seattle. All of you," she stressed.

Sasha hugged Shiarra first, good and strong, then Sam who admittedly blushed a little since she also pecked his cheek, and finally Dean went up and hugged her too, tight with a whispered, "Thanks," and he meant it just as much for her simply being there as he did for the specifics of her not letting the others know that he had told her about the deal. He didn't want their influence changing how refreshingly she handled it.

"Walk me to my car," Shiarra said to Dean when they pulled apart. It wasn't a request. Sam and Sasha gave Dean puzzled looks as he grabbed his coat to follow Shiarra out, but Dean just shrugged. He could imagine several different things she might want to discuss in private.

It was another cold January day in Maine, lightly snowing to add to the already bountiful mounds everywhere but the roads, and the roads were free only because the plows had been through early. Dean admired Shiarra's Bentley as they neared it. It was a classic, like one of the ones from the 20s but well kept. It wasn't really Dean's style but he had to admire a good piece of aged machinery.

Shiarra set her purse on the passenger's seat and closed the side door again before turning back to Dean. She looked shockingly serious. "Dean, I like you," she said simply, "I've liked you from the start to be honest, much like with Deklin, which was why I tried so hard not to like you but…well." She shrugged.

Dean didn't say anything, not even to gloat jokingly about how 'well of course he had won her over.' He sensed something unpleasant coming.

"I had started to think that maybe you would be good for Sasha. That maybe you might be…something permanent. But the truth is, Dean, in…three months, did you say? You'll just be another bad memory." The air went instantly still around them, but Shiarra spoke on. "How hard you make it for him is up to you. Call me a bitch for saying all that if you like. I do hope, pray that you can find some way out of your deal, Dean, but…" she trailed, shaking her head sadly.

Again, Dean found no pity there, not really pity, because Shiarra knew why Dean had made the deal and understood in a way few could. She wished things could be different, looked at things more practically than Sam or Sasha, but she didn't pity him, and for that Dean could never be angry with her for wanting to protect her own. "I know," he said. And he did, but he also knew he couldn't survive these last three months without both Sam and Sasha there, even if it was selfish, even if it made things harder for both of them. It was the only way he could keep an eye on them until he was gone and make sure that they were going to be okay.

When Dean came back to himself out of his thoughts, Shiarra had the passenger door open again and was fishing inside her glove box for something. Dean made a point of looking up because that green skirt of hers was pretty damn tight across the rear. "And…" Shiarra said as she surfaced from the car, "I believe you wanted this back."

Dean just stared as a leather-bound journal was placed in his hands—a very specific journal. Dad's. Dean had been so caught up in everything since last night that he had almost forgotten about needing to retrieve the thing from local police evidence. "How…how did you get it?" he managed, holding the journal tightly in his hands. It was the hunter Bible for them and almost as much apart of Dean as the Impala—a final remnant of his father.

"Oh, I have my ways," Shiarra dismissed, "Take care of my boy?" she said then, not really as a question.

Slipping the journal into his coat, Dean looked up at Shiarra with a firm nod. "For as long as I can," he said back. He couldn't smile though. He just couldn't find the strength to form one even after the gift she had just given him.

Shiarra leaned up to kiss Dean very light and thankfully more motherly this time on the lips. "I meant my offer about you boys coming to stay with me for awhile. If you can."

"Yeah. Who knows. And hey," Dean grabbed Shiarra's arm before she could disappear around the other side of the car, "I was hoping I could ask you something quick. It's…nothing big, I was just…kinda curious and I didn't really want to ask Sasha."

Understandably that earned Dean a raised eyebrow. "Alright," Shiarra said slowly.

Dean had a feeling he was going to regret this but curiosity had already gotten the better of him. "See, when he was still a five-year-old, Sasha said something that got me thinking. He, uhh…mentioned these friends of his. Eppy and…Atty, I think?"

"Of course," Shiarra nodded, "They're part of that same core group as Charismatic and Lindsey. What about them?"

"Well…" Dean glanced away, finding the compacted snow on the cement surprisingly interesting, "Aheh…he said something about them…having two fathers. Is that…true?"

Risking a glance upwards again awarded Dean just what he expected; Shiarra's expression had narrowed to an intimidating stare. "Yes, they do. And this interests you because…?" Her prompt was dangerous.

Part of Dean wanted to laugh it all off but he was pretty sure that would just get him in more trouble with the succubus. "So…an incubus and another incubus can have kids together?" Dean asked rather than really answer Shiarra's question. Shiarra nodded as if she was waiting for some further punch line. So Dean went on, "Does that mean…one of them actually gets pregnant, or…"

"Our genetics may be different from humans, Dean, but males of most species still lack certain things for that. We're not seahorses," Shiarra said sharply.

Seahorses? Dean decided not to ask. But he still hadn't had all of the questions he did want to ask answered. "So then…?"

"It's a process. One your own species isn't all that far from accomplishing," Shiarra said, a little exasperated but at least willing to explain things, "There are certain rituals, involving sex of course, that can combine the genetics of a same sex couple. The child then grows within a surrogate."

"Like the in vitro stuff?"

"Only mystical. If the couple is female then they simply decide beforehand which one will carry the child. If they are male then there is a chosen surrogate. However, the child is very much that of the actual parents. Believe me, Epica and Attoinette are the perfect combination of their fathers. I've known them for years. Their appetites are practically identical."

Okay, Dean really didn't need to know that. "Right. Ehh…thanks. I was just…ya know…curious."

Shiarra stared at Dean particularly hard before letting Dean off the hook with that. "I like you, Dean," she said, in the exact same tone as she had said it before, "But I mean it when I say that how hard you make this for Sasha over the next few months is up to you. How I choose to react to how hard you make it for him, however, is up to me." There was as much humor as there was honest threat in those words.

Again, Dean understood, but selfish or not he wasn't about to push Sasha away right now. And why did Shiarra have to think that Dean being curious about the whole same sex pregnancy thing had to have anything to do with him and Sasha? Dean wasn't asking for their sake or anything. Did she forget he was human? But then maybe she had, Dean thought wryly, everyone else seemed to be missing that point lately.

"Dean…"

"Yeah. I get you," he said to Shiarra, "But I think we both know that there is no way I can make this easy on Sam or Sasha anymore. They just don't make that possible, ya know."

Shiarra sighed deeply. "I suppose I can't argue with that. Our boys certainly are stubborn if anything. Take care, Dean. For my sake too." Then just as swiftly as she had moved into their lives Shiarra was out of it again. Dean had this horrible feeling that this might be the last time he ever saw her. He didn't want to think like that. This was a day to relax. A day to forget all those horrible, nasty troubles of theirs. And he wasn't going to be getting many more.

When Dean returned to the room he had to wonder if he had just walked in on yesterday, because, hard as it was for him to believe at first, Sam and Sasha were wrestling on the bed. Okay, so it was more like Sam had Sasha from behind, trying to get something out of his hands, and somehow they had ended up on the bed, but the end result was the same. The sight immediately reminded Dean of that hunt with the Trickster. Damn Sam and his larger frame and insane monkey reach.

"Do you two need a few minutes?" Dean smirked as he entered.

They had both been giggling like the five year olds they had so recently been, though Sam did seem intent on getting whatever it was Sasha was clutching so protectively. Now, however, they froze. In that awkward backwards embrace. On the bed.

Dean valiantly held back his laughter as he came around to get a better look at them. Once he saw what it was they were fighting over though he lost it. It was the coloring books their young personas had so diligently worked in. "Aww, are you fighting over who gets to keep the pretty pictures?" Dean teased through chuckles, "Or can't decide who stayed in the lines better?"

This distraction was enough for Sasha to worm his way out of Sam's hold where he then quickly got up from the bed, still holding the books tightly to his chest. Sam huffed and sat up straight on the edge of the mattress rather than try to snatch the books away again. "He was going to throw them away," Sasha said to Dean, as if that entirely justified their tussle.

"They're ridiculous," Sam defended himself, "The whole thing was."

"Look, call me a packrat if you want, but I want to keep them. They're souvenirs from the hunt. Proof we survived being five. Again."

Dean and Sam both chuckled. To be honest, Dead had been planning on keeping the books all along. "I'll take them," he said, stepping over to Sasha and holding out his hand. There had to be some residual effects from being five for two days because the expression on Sasha's face was that sort of cautious pout only a child could wear. "I'm not gonna let Sam throw 'em," he assured Sasha as he took them, "This is evidence. Frickin' hilarious evidence too. One of us is bound to have a real fridge in a real house someday. And these are gonna be the first thing that goes up on it." Dean smirked at the thought. Of course then he had to go and think that the chances of him especially or really any of them ever having a fridge in a stable home that was theirs was about next to nothing. "Maybe we can send them to Uncle Bobby or Aunt Ellen, eh, kiddos?" he mended, "I'm sure they'll be so proud."

"Don't you dare," Sam said, even though he was grinning wide enough to show off his dimples, "I think we can keep this hunt to ourselves. And I won't try to throw them away again," he said to Sasha, "There's just…a few things I'd rather not remember about the last couple of days."

Sasha blanched. "Good point."

"Like what?" Dean said, tossing the coloring books over by his duffle. One was Spider-Man and the other was Care Bears. He had a pretty good idea which one had been used by which five-year-old. "It wasn't all that bad. I mean, looking back on it since it got all fixed and everything. Nothing too crazy happened."

Studying his friends for a reaction Dean noticed the furtive glances Sam and Sasha gave each other before coming to some sort of consensus and then turning quickly away again. Then it hit Dean. They remember everything. Which would have to include bath time.

"Oh god," Dean laughed, "You remember watching each other naked!" Dean barked another laugh and then realized that yes, his brother—very adult now—remembered seeing his boyfriend naked. "That's not funny."

This time it was Sasha who laughed, but Sam stood up from the bed and gave the incubus a look. "No, it's not. Can we try and put that behind us maybe. I mean, I don't mind the playing. We had fun for five-year-olds. It was kinda…nice." Sam shrugged shyly. "But the bathing and…finding those pictures on your phone, Dean, which I know what they were now that I'm an adult, thank you…yeah. I can do without those memories."

"Dude," Dean said with a grin, happily forgetting anything about naked child Sam and Sasha, "Careful what you wish for. All memories are precious. Well," Dean really had to grimace, "Maybe precious isn't the right word but you get what I mean."

Sasha walked up to Dean, still chuckling over the whole thing, and obviously more okay with any remaining memories than the others. He said, "I think I can live with having seen Sam naked. Just so long as I get to see you naked, Dean Winchester, soon and more often." He accompanied his teasing words with a very light pat on Dean's shoulder.

A pat that immediately had Dean gasping in pain because it was his hurt shoulder that still refused to heal.

"Dean?" Sasha asked worried, realizing immediately that he had done the wrong thing, "I'm so sorry. Is your shoulder still hurting you that badly?"

"What gave it away?" Dean said through clenched teeth, his good arm reaching over to touch the injured shoulder even though he couldn't actually bring himself to make contact without fear of causing himself more pain.

"We should take a look at that," Sam said right away, coming up behind Dean and bodily moving him to sit on the bed. Suddenly, Sam and Sasha were on either side of Dean, both trying to get his shirt off.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey!" Dean nearly shouted, pinning his arms down to his sides to prevent his companions from basically stripping him, "Do ya mind? I do not need both of you fussing over me. If one of you wants to look at it, fine, but that's it. God, playing Mom made me forget what damn mother hens you both are."

And then came the matching pouts and scowls. Sometimes Dean wondered if Sam and Sasha were the brothers. They sure seemed to have a lot of similar expressions. At least Dean had never caught Sasha with Sam's patented bitch-face. Sam's current expression actually looked a lot like that as he said, "You can do it," to Sasha and then turned back to the computer on the tabletop, "I'll keep checking the radar to see if there are any nearby hunts or demon signs."

Dean was kind of pleased that his nurse for the morning would be Sasha instead of his brother. Sam was damn good at patching wounds up and all, and had pretty gentle hands for a behemoth. But Dean kind of longed for a few Sasha touches right now.

Carefully, Dean removed his own shirt, thank you, but then let Sasha look over his shoulder and take him through the motions. Motions literally. Sasha had him attempting all sorts of movements to be sure there wasn't any further damage besides the excess swelling. Thankfully, there didn't seem to be any, and as long as they iced the shoulder good again and didn't have anything new happen to it before it had the chance to heal this time, it would be fine. Dean promised to be more careful, at least to appease Sam and Sasha. It wasn't as if he could help that Faust wrenched his arms behind his back during that fight. Things like that just seemed to happen—worst possible fight scenarios while already wounded. It had to be some kind of evil rule or something.

While Sasha was helping Dean ice his shoulder, they discussed with Sam a few possible hunts. Sam seemed reluctant to bring it up but he mentioned wanting to try summoning the demon they had sent after the contract holder again. If that came up as another bust then they needed to find another demon to send, and quickly. Maybe if they kept sending more and more demons down for the same mission, the contract holder would eventually get fed up or make a mistake. Of course that meant finding demon activity.

Dean tried to listen as Sam extolled the merits of heading for Indiana where there was a possible vengeful spirit at a primary school. A lot of the signs could apparently go both ways, either spirit or demon, and it seemed their best bet right now. It also wasn't as far away as some other choices.

So yeah, Dean tried to listen as Sam went into detail, but…Sasha's free hand kept rubbing his lower back with slow, soft circles while the other held the icepack in place. Sasha was sitting so close to Dean too that their hips were leaning against each other's. If Dean looked over, which he did, Sasha was right there.

Somewhere between 'small town' and 'we need to find another demon' Dean totally tuned Sam out. Sasha was just…looking at him. No smile. He didn't need one. His eyes spoke everything. He was reaching across Dean with his left hand to get at Dean's right shoulder, and Sasha's right hand was still tracing those circles. And then the hand started to trail a little lower, teasing the waist of Dean's jeans. And Sasha was leaning just a little bit closer. The redhead was practically holding Dean already with the way his arms were halfway around him, so it wasn't all the hard to just let the kiss happen.

This was pure bliss compared to last night, and last night's fierce welcome home had been pretty damn blissful too. At first Sasha was just placing gentle little presses to Dean's lips, his right hand straying just a little below Dean's beltline to tease his tailbone. Dean shivered. He was the one who pressed forward and sought out Sasha's tongue, which answered him eagerly. Dean's left hand sought out Sasha's hip then and just clung right there, first to the edge of jeans and then rising up underneath Sasha's—well, Dean's—black T-shirt to find skin. Dean half expected Sasha to push him back onto the bed.

Then Sam cleared his throat. Loudly.

"Sorry," Sasha said sheepishly, pulling away and repositioning the icepack on Dean's shoulder since it had started to fall, "We're listening."

Right. Sure they were.

Sam seemed to realize the truth behind that too.

"Look, let's just say we're going to Indiana. Unless you have any objections?"

Dean and Sasha shook their heads.

"Good. Now…do we need to get you guys another room, coz I do not want to deal with waking up to you two making out in the other bed again. Once was more than enough, thanks."

Much as Dean liked that idea, there was something else he wanted more right now. "Can we discuss sleeping arrangements over lunch? I'm starving."

It was unanimously decided that Dean's idea was genius. They hadn't actually grabbed anything for breakfast while waiting for Dean to wake up. They knew better than to eat without him. That mistake was another 'once was more than enough' situation. And then some.

They were halfway out the door, planning to walk to this little place on the corner rather than worry Ula or anyone with room service today, when Dean remembered something Faust had said that was still bothering him. He knew it shouldn't matter but he still felt like he needed to ask.

"Hey…guys," Dean said, while Sam already had the doorknob turned and they were all in their coats. Sam and Sasha turned back to look at him quizzically. "It's nothing really, just…Faust said something to me and…I can't help thinking…well…he said the reason you two were pulled into that room and I wasn't had to be because you wanted to see the future. That you…must have actually seen something then or you wouldn't have turned into kids. So…did you? See anything in there?"

It was as if someone had taken an eraser to both of their faces, Sam and Sasha went so suddenly pale. They looked at each other before turning back to Dean, and when they shook their heads with the same, "No, nothing," on their lips, Dean knew they were lying to him. He also knew why.

"Right. Well…better get some grub, huh?" Dean smiled big and pushed on past them, taking a deep breath once he was out of their visual ranges. He couldn't help thinking about what Faust had also said, about what everyone saw in that room because it was the only inevitable thing. Dean had a sinking feeling that Sam and Sasha hadn't seen themselves.

After lunch they decided to check out the hospital. They had been pretty lax about making sure whether or not the other victims had recovered too, assuming that of course they had, but now they wanted to be sure.

The cop and the two male squatters had already checked themselves out. The only one that remained was the Jane Doe who Dean noticed now had a name, Jennifer Laurie, and who also looked fully recovered. They didn't go in to see her. They were out of uniform and it was almost certain she would remember them. Dean was glad to get at least a glimpse of her though and to see that her eyes no longer had that faraway look.

There was nothing to do when they got back to the motel but research into this Indiana thing a little more and relax. Dean loved that. Sam and Sasha set to work and he let them, lounging back on the bed and just enjoying that they were back to normal. He and Sasha would get around to grabbing another room later. Dean liked it being all three of them unless he wanted to get frisky right that second. That thought wasn't too far from the surface but he could wait until evening.

It was late afternoon when they finally took a break, satisfied for now with what they knew, and Dean searched out something on the TV. They got sucked into that Stargate movie on one of the movie channels and about twenty minutes from the end realized they were hungry for dinner already. As soon as the movie was over, with Dean's shoulder feeling much better after getting iced before and then again that afternoon, Sasha suggested walking a little further this time to the pizza place Ula had mentioned and bringing some back to the motel to watch another movie or two. They had earned a little R & R after their schedule lately, and it wasn't as if there was anything else they could do until they left tomorrow.

"You guys go ahead," Sam said, giving a sudden yawn, "I think I've been staring at a screen too long today. I need to rest my eyes. Wake me when you come back and I'll be all refreshed, I promise. But no making out during the movie unless you get your own room."

Dean laughed. "Spoil sport. Anyway, it's your loss if you want a beauty nap. It's a smoldering thirty degrees out there. Perfect for a walk," he snarked, "If I get sick I'm blaming you," he said to Sasha, even though he was already grabbing his coat.

Sasha was grinning and didn't seem at all upset that Sam wouldn't be joining them. "Don't worry, Dean, I'm sure I can keep you warm on the way there." Sasha slid an arm inside Dean's coat and grabbed Dean around the waist, pulling them close together.

"Not a chance in Hell," Dean said, putting both hands on Sasha's chest and pushing, "No PDA's means no snuggling on the sidewalk. I'll take my chances with the elements."

"Aww," Sasha pouted.

"Sorry, baby, but the puppy eyes only work when you're five."

"That's a lie," Sam chuckled as he flopped down on his bed.

"The peanut gallery can shut up, thanks," Dean grumbled.

Sasha was all and out laughing now. "Have a good nap, Sam. We'll be back soon. Come on, Dean." And with that, Sasha grabbed Dean by the arm like how a normal couple would stroll down the street and led them out of the motel. That lasted all of two seconds, because before they were even to the lobby Dean wrenched his arm free, puppy eyes be damned.

It didn't actually feel as cold as it really was since there wasn't much wind today, but Dean started to wish he had taken Ula up on her offer when she asked if they wanted to borrow some scarves for the walk. His leather jacket just didn't do the trick in this kind of cold. It kind of annoyed him that Sasha seemed so impervious, just as he had been that morning in Missouri when he flew with Dean—naked.

There was no end to what Sasha owed him if Dean really started tallying, so he felt no shame whatsoever when he steered their conversation immediately to the Animus House and some of the things they had seen. It had been torture enough waiting to know certain things while Sasha was a five-year-old.

He decided to start with a peace offering. "You know," Dean said as they were crossing the street. They had several blocks to go to this pizza place and they hadn't called ahead, so there would be plenty of time to let Sam nap. "Your aunt told me that the one chick, Charis, called her after we ran into her in Massachusetts. Asked for your number. I think she might try calling you to get together some time."

"Really?" Sasha looked absolutely overjoyed, "That'd be amazing. Though I'll bet without Lindsey. But…that's okay. Just seeing any of them…would be nice. Charis was always sort of like a big sister. Well, all of them are older than me, but she's the only one that ever really seemed the older sibling type. She sort of held the fort together when we were kids. I'm not surprised she wants to try mending fences after running into each other like that."

"Which brings me to my first question." Dean was done beating around the bush. "Shiarra also said that you didn't make any more of an effort to see any of them than they did. Why? You're so happy to have seen Charis for like five seconds and you didn't even try before? Were you really just that scared they'd want nothing to do with you?"

Sasha stared down at the sidewalk and Dean was pretty sure he had hit the nail on the head with that one. "You weren't there. You don't know what it was like when I first told them. All of them were…terrified of me. Like they thought I was suddenly going to turn around and kill all of them just because I wanted to be a hunter. I…I didn't know what else to think."

"But you were kids. You were sixteen. It's been nine years. You don't think some of the other besides Charis miss you? I'd miss you."

"You're biased," Sasha smirked.

"Yeah, well…maybe just a little. Still…that Cam guy, he seemed pretty easy going. I bet he'd—"

"How do you know about Cam?" Sasha broke in suddenly, "I never mentioned him."

Shit. "Uhh…well…you see I was just, uhh…"

"Dean, I'm teasing you," Sasha smiled, "I know you spied on me in that one room in the Animus House. You don't have to make up some lie to avoid telling me."

Dean paused in their walking to gape at his companion. "You know? But how? You didn't even turn around once."

"I think my five-year-old predecessor said it best," Sasha said and then put on a very small, childlike voice, "You feel really loud."

That got Dean chuckling a little. "Okay. Ya got me. Sorry I spied. I was just…I just wanted to know more about you before all the hunter stuff. You never talk about it. I wouldn't even know Charis, or Lindsey, or this Cam guy existed if not for crazy circumstances and seeing that memory. I know it's hard for you, but if you ask me, you're the one who's making it hard. I know they haven't made much effort, either, obviously, but maybe that's the problem. You're all waiting for someone else to make the first move, and that, I can promise you, usually gets you nowhere."

They had started to walk again but this time it was Sasha who stopped. "You're really interested?" he said, and it was a question but only halfway, like Sasha already thought he knew the answer, "You wanna know Sasha, the early years? Coz I'll tell you. It's not like there's anything I would ever want to hide from you, Dean. And you've told me so much, it…it's really not fair, I know."

"Hey," Dean said quickly, "Don't make this sound like obligation. That's never anything good. I want you to tell me because you want to tell me, not because you think you owe me."

"I know. So…what do you want first?"

Wow. There was a loaded question. Dean decided to get them walking again while he thought about that. "You said the others are all older than you, right? And these others are…Charis, Lindsey, Cam…and some girls called Eppy and Atty?"

Sasha laughed a little. "Yep. That's us. We were a pretty big group. Six in a year is a lot. I'm the youngest with my birthday in December. See, the change doesn't happen BAM on your sixteenth birthday, it's more like there's a specific time of year that it happens to anyone born within a certain range, so we were the ones from our year. I was actually still fifteen technically when the change happened. But I was the only one."

"Wait, you keep saying that you were the only six. You mean there were only six incubi or succubae born that whole year? Anywhere?"

Sasha laughed again. "Dean, there are only like six thousand of us. Usually, as many die each year as there are new ones born, so we keep pretty even numbers. Can you imagine how many of us there would be on earth if there were more than that? There's a good many anyway and most of them stay in the home plain a lot of the time."

Dean supposed that did all make sense, but this went a little further than graduating with a small class size. Sasha and his old friends had to have been ridiculously close, and it pained Dean to think that they had all just turned their backs on him. "So six is a big number?"

"Yeah. I'd say average is more like two. Maybe three or four. We had three boys and three girls. A good even mix. And I know of at least four of our kind that died that year to even things out. My parents…and Lindsey's."

The pizza place was visible ahead of them finally but Dean slowed down and finally stopped again. "Lindsey's parents died that same year too? Was it hunters?" Dean felt he probably didn't need to ask.

Sasha smiled weakly.

Figured. "Bad year for that."

"Yeah. It's why we were always so close. My aunt raised me. His grandfather raised him. He hated hunters more than I ever could, more than Shi too. He always thought it was so cool though that my dad was a hunter, because my dad chose to become one of us. That made him different. But for one of us to become one of them…that didn't go over so well."

Dean huffed. "Bit of a double standard if ya ask me," he shrugged and then continued walking again.

A grin cracked onto Sasha's face. "Lindsey's…he's not too forgiving. He took it more personally than the others. I understand. I would never want to push him."

"But you miss him." It wasn't a question.

"Sometimes."

Dean cast Sasha a knowing look.

"Okay, a lot of the time. I miss all of them. They were…"

"Everything?"

"Yeah. But I have new additions that make that a little easier these days," Sasha grinned, reaching over discretely to take Dean's hand in his.

That was pretty unfair, pulling something like that in a situation where Dean would look like a jerk if he pulled his hand away. He cast a quick look around though and there wasn't really anyone around. Fitting his fingers with Sasha's he gave the surprisingly warm hand a good squeeze. When Sasha grinned and tried to lean over to steal a kiss too Dean pulled his head away and said, "Don't push your luck."

Sasha just laughed,

"But ya know," Dean said before they reached the pizza place, kind of enjoying having Sasha's hand in his, even though he knew it would probably never happen again in public. This was Maine not Alabama. He didn't exactly expect the homophobes to come charging out after them. But other places weren't always as forgiving. "Much as I know Sammy and I are more than just substitutes, you gotta realize it's not the same. You're always gonna miss them coz ya love them. Like family. Not much way around that."

Sasha's hand squeezed Dean's a little tighter. "I know. And I'd love to change things. I'd love to have Charis call me up and to start finding a way to have all of them part of my life again. It's just…" he sighed and peered at Dean from beneath his lashes. They were almost to the door now. "Would I sound like a complete coward if I said I was scared?"

Everyone was scared of something. Dean could never look down on that—though he still retained rights to tease Sasha for his spider fear, because that was just ridiculous. "It doesn't make you a coward. It just makes you…well, I was gonna say human, but…you get what I mean." Dean smiled.

They walked the last bit to the pizza place and stopped just in front of the door. Dean turned to Sasha, afraid he was going to have to ask for his hand back, but then Sasha lifted their linked hands up to his lips and kissed the back of Dean's palm.

Which is of course when some teenage boy came waltzing out of the pizza place with a couple boxes and a two-liter and just about dropped all of it to find some guy kissing another guy's hand.

"Uhh…oops," the kid said, wide-eyed. He was kind of scrawny and short but still looked close to eighteen. He had geek written all over him but wasn't at all bad looking, like one of those geeks all the girls secretly thought was hot all through high school even though none of them would ever ask him out. "S-Sorry," he stammered, apparently not knowing what else to say. His face was about three shades of red.

Dean jerked his hand away from Sasha, who was grinning like crazy, and would have stormed towards the door and right inside if the kid wasn't still standing there. "Free show's over, kid. Mind letting us through?"

The kid blushed harder. "Right. Sorry. I didn't mean to…yeah. Bye!" And then he was gone. The kid had to be in track, or he at least should be, because he sprinted pretty impressively around the building to wherever his car was.

Sasha might be laughing but Dean did not find this funny. "Keep your hands to yourself, ya big freak," Dean said, albeit affectionately, because these days he just couldn't help it, "Try anything inside and there'll be no getting our own room." It wasn't lost on Dean that he said that in the same paternal tone he had been using when Sam and Sasha were kids. He really needed to get over that.

Sasha didn't seem to notice though, saying close and soft beside Dean's ear, "Liar…" which Dean knew was entirely true. That didn't mean he wouldn't kick Sasha incredibly hard if the incubus did try anything. Dean still had his standards.

They ordered two larges and some soda to go, which they waited for in one of the booths, across from each other too because Dean knew how much Sasha liked to lean into him. Of course being across from each other meant that Sasha could hook his foot around Dean's ankle. Dean supposed he could allow that.

Much as Dean had given Sasha the quick version of the early years—Winchester style—back in Nebraska playing lookout for the seven deadly sins, Sasha gave Dean the basic run down of growing up as an incubus. They had their own version of school. Yes, they had TV and access to other important things like that. The incubus/succubus plain was actually very similar to the human world. Houses, shops, clothing. Only the landscape was more vibrant, Sasha said, not sure how else to explain it.

Being in true or human form didn't really matter, although human was encouraged of the young for practice. School was finished by sixteen in preparation for the change and then there was prep time with their guardians before being sent out into the world. Before then they were not allowed to go to the human plain alone. Ever. But Sasha told Dean about a few times he and Lindsey and Cam had snuck away to see movies. The trouble they got into had always been worth it.

By the time Sasha and Dean had their pizza and were walking back to the motel, Dean didn't even have to prompt Sasha along. The incubus seemed to be enjoying talking about old times now that he had fallen into it. Sometimes that old sadness would cross his face but then he would grin or laugh about something and it was all okay again. It struck Dean as funny that even as an incubus Sasha had managed to have a more normal childhood than him.

"Sorry," Sasha said once they returned, "I just talked your ear off for a solid hour with all that. Sure you don't have any regrets?"

Dean had to grin because he really had enjoyed every moment. He thought about Sasha's question and gave him a long once over. "Nope," he said, "No regrets on my end." He smiled wider when he saw the deeper meaning of that dawn on Sasha.

"Hey," Sasha said before Dean could open the lobby door, "I was hoping to talk to Ula a minute, thank her proper for everything she did for us since she sort of made herself scarce last night. Think you can carry all this to the room yourself?"

The pizza boxes were already in Dean's arms; he was fairly certain he could handle a two-liter. He snatched the soda from Sasha. "Be my guest, man. Don't go hitting on her now." Dean walked on into the lobby and heard Sasha snort behind him. He caught the beginning of their exchange—Sasha's polite greeting; Ula's blush that was somehow audible—while Dean himself simply waved and moved on. He was hungry and Sam had gotten a plenty long nap.

The room was dark when Dean got inside, but first glance showed no sign of a sleeping Sam. The bathroom light was visible beneath the door so Dean figured it was safe to turn the main light on too.

"Good timing, Sammy!" Dean called, setting out the pizza and soda on the table, "Grub's on! Sasha's smoothing things over with Ula. Probably thinks she's still a little freaked by the whole thing. Guess I can't blame him." Dean heard the bathroom door open behind him. "I hope you don't mind the extra…olives…" Dean's voice fell away as he turned around. It was a good thing he had already set down the food because he probably would have dropped it.

Yellow eyes. Yellow eyes and Sam walking slow and steady out of the bathroom towards him.

"No…" Dean backed away instinctively and his thighs hit the edge of the table. This couldn't be happening now. They had beaten it. Dean had gotten young Sam to drop all of adult Sam's barriers. Thinking of that made Dean grit his teeth though. The now restored adult Sam probably put them all back up again, damn it, giving them one free night and then making everything ten times worse. Shit.

Dean thought of when yellow-eyed Sam had pushed him into the bathroom. Adult Sam didn't remember that incident, other than knowing that Dean had mistaken young Sam for an enemy in the dark and struck him. This time Dean was filled with the same overpowering panic, but hell, if punching Sam had snapped him out of it before, it seemed a pretty fair guess it would work again.

Pushing from the table, Dean walked right up to Sam, pulled his fist back and swung. But Sam was prepared for him this time. Dean's fist aimed for Sam's jaw but Sam's hand was right there to catch it. His grip was too tight, enough that Dean felt all of his knuckles crack under the pressure. He cringed. Okay, maybe that wasn't the best idea.

Sam pushed Dean's fist aside and Dean waited for an answering blow as he searched his brain quickly for his next move. Nothing came to Dean but no blow struck either. Suddenly, Sam's arms were wrapping around him, holding him close in a tight enough embrace to make Dean gasp. Was he trying to crush him? Then Dean realized. Yellow-eyed Sam was hugging him.

"Dean…" Sam breathed against his brother's ear.

Dean shivered from the sudden warmth. "Sammy…?" he whispered, his own hands finding hold along Sam's lower back.

"Dean," Sam said more forcefully.

"Yeah, man. I'm Dean. Your brother Dean." Dean pulled out of the hug and Sam allowed it, though he kept his hands firmly gripping Dean's biceps. It was haunting looking into those yellow eyes but knowing that somehow there was still some of Sam looking back at him. "Sammy…? You really in there?"

"Dean," Sam said again. His voice didn't sound any different than usual but it gave Dean chills to hear it anyway. Why was 'Dean' all Sam could say? Those yellow eyes were looking him over as if maybe they had been trying to be certain this was Dean from the beginning. Sam smiled, knowing that indeed this was his brother, and the next words that left him were pure determination. "Save Dean."

That should have been a comfort to hear but it wasn't. Something in the changed tone made Dean shiver again. It was a frightening determination, the kind that would do anything, anything to accomplish its goals. Dean didn't want that of Sam. He had never wanted that.

But what made it all so much worse was hearing the door open behind him and the preceding words from Sasha as the incubus returned.

"So I think it's all okay now. Not that it wasn't before. But I asked Ula to have breakfast with us tomorrow since we're leaving. She's really a nice…" Sasha trailed, his jacket halfway off and the door already closed behind him before he looked up and noticed that things were not okay in the room. "Oh god…"

"Sasha, quick—!" Dean began, but he was cut off abruptly when he attempted to move towards Sasha. Sam's hands held him firmly in place and then moved Dean to the side, effectively putting himself between Dean and Sasha. He finally released Dean as he began to approach the incubus himself. "Wait! Don't!" Dean tried to sprint forward, to get in front of Sam again and stop him from whatever it was he planned to do, but he barely managed a single step before his whole body went rigid, held in place by Sam's TK.

This was bad. Did yellow-eyed Sam think of Sasha as a threat?

"Sasha, run!" Dean screamed. He didn't want to take any chances. Sasha could still get away; he was so close to the door. "Go!"

For a minute it looked as though Sasha was going to listen to Dean despite how his eyes betrayed that he did not like the idea of leaving Dean alone with Sam. But before Sasha could make his move something happened. Sam was still a few feet from Sasha, not even touching him, but Sasha's eyes went suddenly blank, his body relaxing out of its tension. Sasha stood up straighter with those dead eyes, like he was waiting for something. Waiting for an order.

Sam never said anything aloud but some kind of message was sent and Sasha gave a slight bow of his head before turning towards the door. He stopped before his hand reached the knob, turned back to Sam, gave another nod, and then headed for his duffle. Dean watched, horror-stricken, as Sasha pulled out his iron knife and tucked it into his coat before heading back to the door again.

"Stop!" Dean called after Sasha, "What are you doing! What are you making him do!" he shot at Sam next, since Sasha was already out the door and there was nothing Dean could do to stop him. Dean couldn't even move. He had never felt so helpless. He glared daggers when Sam turned back to him. "Where did you send him?" he asked through a furious growl, "What did you tell him to do? What are you making him do?"

Sam walked back to Dean with a similar blank expression to what Sasha had been wearing. Dean tensed. Or he would have if he had been able to move. When Sam reached him Dean finally felt his body relax out of that awful hold, but only to have Sam grab him by the arm and lead him forcefully across the room.

"Why are you doing this!" Dean screamed when Sam practically threw him at one of the beds, "Why?"

Stepping close to where Dean was on the bed, Sam tilted his head just slightly as if he didn't realize that any of his actions were harsh or wrong. "Save Dean," he said simply.

"Save me?" Dean spat back, "How does this save me? Tell me. Please. Talk to me!" Dean couldn't stand the stunted language Sam was using as if Sam was only half in control or maybe not at all.

Apparently Sam was done with their conversation though because he didn't respond, he just stepped in even closer to Dean and grabbed him by the shoulders. Before Dean could even begin to realize what was happening Sam was lying him down on the bed. Panic ripped through Dean as he thought of his dreams, those horrible, awful dreams, and he tried to struggle out of Sam's hold. But Sam was just too strong and when he got sick of dealing with Dean's resistance he simply put a small command into Dean's brain.

Don't struggle.

Dean knew the command was from Sam, that he didn't really feel any better about the situation himself, but he couldn't resist. His body went limp, willing and pliable under Sam's touch. It wasn't fair. This wasn't happening. Sam wasn't doing this. No horror would be worse than seeing a reality made out of Dean's nightmares. Too many possibilities were already running through Dean's mind. It made Dean flinch when Sam sat on the edge of the bed next to him and reached to smooth back his hair.

Only after a few minutes had passed where Sam did nothing but gently run his fingers through Dean's hair, sitting there but not moving to do anything else, did Dean allow himself to relax the way his body was. Sam was acting rough and foolish and didn't make any sense, but he was still Sam. He still sought to comfort Dean somehow even while he did these awful things. Of course Dean couldn't fully relax knowing that Sasha was out there doing god knows what under Sam's sway. If it really was something to help Dean then it just made Dean feel worse.

After awhile, Sam ran his fingers down Dean's face to get him to close his eyes. He shushed Dean and even said, "It's okay. It's okay, Dean," and Dean tried to stay calm as Sam wanted. He knew it wasn't just the mojo either. Dean needed to stay calm and think his way out of this. There were so many ways this could go horribly wrong.

It felt like hours passed with Dean practically dozing while Sam stroked his face and smoothed his hair. All of the plans Dean came up with fell flat when he remembered, 'oh yeah, but then there's that power,' until all he was left with was dumb luck or divine intervention and Dean really didn't like either of those options. He was both relieved and frustrated at not having more time to think when he heard the door open at Sasha's return.

Dean felt Sam get up from the bed and realized thankfully that he could move again too. For now he decided not to push his luck and just sat up, opening his eyes and squinting towards the door at Sasha. The incubus looked maybe a little beaten like he had been in a fight, but was otherwise okay. What caught Dean's attention though was the young blonde woman in Sasha's arms that had Sasha's iron knife sticking out of her chest.

"No…" Even if Dean had wanted to move just then he wouldn't have been able to. Sam hadn't actually sent Sasha out to kill someone. It just wasn't possible. It became clear, however, that the girl was still alive when Sasha set her on the floor in front of Sam. She was breathing heavily. Then her eyes opened and it all made sense to Dean as he took in the sight of her black eyes.

A demon. That wasn't much of a comfort for Sasha's sake though. Sometimes iron to the heart worked on demons the same way as Palo Santo wood, immobilizing them, but not always. Thankfully, this time it had worked because the demon clearly had no ability to move on her own. It wouldn't kill the demon, but Dean was pretty sure that Sasha had killed the host.

Sasha stepped back, leaving the demon to Sam, who studied her a moment before suddenly grabbing her by the throat, lifting her effortlessly from the floor, and slamming her hard up against the wall. With Sam preoccupied, Dean slowly got up from the bed and moved towards Sasha, praying he wouldn't come up against another wall of TK. He reached his friend just as the mojo left Sasha and bright blue eyes blinked from being blank to blessedly coherent.

"Dean…?" Sasha said, sounding understandably confused as Dean came to stand right in front of him, "What…?" Sasha's eyes darted just enough to the side to take in the sight of Sam holding the demon up against the wall. At least he could see that she had black eyes but Dean knew that wouldn't make Sasha feel much better when he noticed… "Is that…my knife?"

Dean was thankful he didn't have to explain right then because they were distracted by the one-sided conversation going on behind them. Sam wasn't talking but the demon sure seemed to be hearing something and she did not like what was being said. "No!" the demon pretty near shrieked, making Dean glad they didn't really have any neighbors since so few people were staying at the motel right now, "Stay away! Leave me be!"

The knife was still in her chest, making it impossible for her to struggle against Sam. Dean had never seen a demon look so scared of another being though. But then maybe he had. Those few moments when the demon that first told them about the contract holder looked truly scared of Sam, maybe that was because the yellow eyes had been showing, just as Dean feared.

"I don't know!" the demon yelled next, barely able to shake her head, "I swear I don't know! No one does! He killed her for trying to find out! They killed her!" There was silence again as Sam apparently said, thought, whatever, something else. The demon's eyes went wider with even more terror. "No! Please!" she begged, "They'll just kill me too! There's no point! You'll never beat them!" For a moment her voice went soft and Dean thought maybe she was trying to be understanding rather than hurtful when she said, "Nothing can save your brother now."

A sound escaped Sam like a feral growl, like the way Sasha sounded only when he was frenzied, and suddenly the demon expelled out of the girl's body, shooting downwards to disappear like they had seen so many times before. The girl's body went limp and Sam held onto her, easing her gently back to the floor and lying her down.

Her eyes were closed at first but they unfairly opened again to reveal soft brown eyes. Not black. No longer black. Now it was just the girl. With Sasha's knife in her chest.

"She's still…she's still alive," Sasha said miserably, "God…what did I do…?"

Nothing, Dean wanted to say, but as much as he knew that was the truth he also knew better than to think that Sasha would accept it. "Sam, stop…" he said to the figure of his brother, watching as Sam pulled the knife out of the girl to which she gasped painfully. He couldn't watch this. He wanted Sam to snap out of it now. He wanted to wake up.

Dean didn't know what he expected Sam to do. The only reason Dean wasn't rushing over there to protect the girl from Sam was because he was being so strangely gentle. She was staring up at Sam as he placed his hands on her wound. She flinched at first, tender as the touch appeared to be, but then she gave a thankful sigh, her eyes closing as she drifted into what looked like a peaceful sleep instead of death.

After situating the girl and removing his hands, Sam looked up at Sasha.

"No!" Dean cried immediately, stepping in front of Sasha to block him from Sam's gaze, "You're not making him do anything else. God, Sammy, what did you do to that girl?"

Sasha's voice came unexpected and quiet from behind Dean. "He took her pain away."

Turning his head to look back at Sasha, Dean found the incubus' expression much calmer suddenly, staring almost thoughtful down at Sam and the girl. After a moment Sasha met gazes with Dean again. He smiled sadly.

"I understand. She would have died anyway, Dean, even without the knife wound. The demon made sure of that. That's why Sam had me use the knife to begin with. And just now, Sam made her believe it doesn't hurt anymore so she can die peacefully."

"How do you know all that?" Dean gaped openly.

"Because. I can hear him." Sasha's eyes turned to look down at Sam again and Dean's gaze followed. Sam was still crouched by the girl, patiently waiting. He didn't look sinister really. Never had. Except in Dean's dreams. "It's still Sam, Dean," Sasha went on, "He's just split in two. The waking Sam's been fighting so hard to keep this Sam away, but he has to give in. Like you had him do as a child. It's the only way he'll be able to control it."

Suddenly, Sam stood up, apparently done being patient, and took a few steps towards them.

Again Dean blocked Sasha, holding his arms outstretched.

"No!"

"It's okay, Dean," Sasha said softly. The incubus stepped up close behind Dean and placed a hand on his shoulder. "He just wants me to take her home. If he doesn't use his powers I won't remember how to get there."

"No," Dean said again, staring at Sam instead of Sasha as he spoke to make it perfectly clear he meant his words for both of them, "He doesn't get to use you like that. He doesn't get to treat you like one of his god damn demon soldiers." Sam's gaze was hard as it stared back at Dean but Dean was not about to waver.

"Dean," Sasha said, almost patronizing, as he stepped around the wall Dean had made of his body, "I am a demon. Close enough to one. And so is Sam. But this isn't evil. He took her pain away, Dean. He sent that demon after the contract holder because they killed the other one. Didn't you get that? He's trying to save you." That phrase clanged like a gong in Dean's head and he hated it. "No matter which version he is, Sam's trying to save you. He can use me for that."

Dean's arms dropped back to his sides as Sasha walked past him. But he couldn't let things go on like this. He grabbed Sasha's arm before the redhead could get too close to Sam. "No. This is wrong. This has to be wrong."

It pained Dean how full of compassionate resolve Sasha was when he looked at him. "It'll be okay, Dean," he said again. And then he turned to Sam. "I'll take her."

Just like before Sasha's eyes went dead blank, just a mindless puppet for Sam to control, and Dean couldn't do anything. Sasha went to the sleeping—maybe dead now—girl, picked her up gently from the floor and left the room. Dean hoped discretion was part of Sam's suggested orders, because this would certainly be interesting to explain to Ula.

But Dean didn't really care about that. He couldn't think in terms of logic, whether or not Sasha was right, or that somehow things would be okay in the end. He was too angry. At Sam, at those damn yellow eyes, at Sasha for willingly going along with it all, at the deal looming overhead that was the reason for everything, and everything else too.

Dean looked hard at Sam, who was also staring at him, and just charged, no thinking just a mad rush at Sam until Dean had slammed his brother back against the doorframe of the bathroom. "Get out!" he screamed in Sam's face. No, not Sam's. It was the yellow eyes. It was their fault. "Get out of my brother!" Dean yelled on, "Be Sam! You've had your fun, now be Sam! Stop trying to save me. I'm not worth it. I'm not worth any of this. You don't…you don't do things like this, Sammy, sending Sasha out to do your bidding. You can't let the dreams be right. You can't. Just be…Sam. Be Sam."

It was too much for Dean, all that emotion welling up inside him and trying to get out. In the end he wasn't yelling at all anymore; he wasn't holding Sam in place. He was sobbing and clinging to Sam's shirt.

This was too messed up. He didn't want Sam doing these things for him. Not for him.

The yellow-eyed Sam, so strange and different but apart of Sam too, looked on with its mottled stare and Dean saw an answering tear fall to match his own. Sam's arms shot out then and pulled Dean in against him, crushing him to his chest for another desperate hug. Dean just sobbed harder, dampening Sam's flannel shirt. Softly, he heard, "I'm sorry, Dean," and then the strong body holding him went lax and fell straight to the floor, taking Dean down with it.

A sob wracked through Sam as they hit the floor. Dean didn't have to look; he knew the yellow eyes were gone. Sam was clinging just as hard to Dean now and it seemed so wrong somehow for them to be crying in each other's arms like this. There had to be a breaking point somewhere, Dean knew that, but he hated how they kept finding new ones.

"Dean…I…I'm sorry," Sam choked out, "I'm so sorry."

"Sammy…"

"I remember…everything this time. Everything," Sam admitted, "God, Dean…I don't want to scare you like this. I never…never wanted you to see me like this."

"Sam," Dean said more firmly. He sensed the angst, the self-loathing that was coming and he didn't want Sam to keep doing that to himself. Dean knew he wasn't one to talk, but it was his job to get on his brother's case, damn it. "Don't go blaming yourself for this, Sammy. I don't care if those yellow eyes are apart of you. They're not—"

"They're me, Dean," Sam broke in. Both their bodies were entirely leaning into each other for support, with Dean's head held against Sam's chest and Sam's face pressing into Dean's hair. "This is my fault," Sam said, "It was so open…so bare with those walls down. I could feel everything I was capable of, Dean, and I couldn't bear it. I had to put the walls back up again."

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean tried, "I get why you—"

"No. It's not okay. I can't keep running scared, Dean. I have to give in, like Sasha said. I have to fight."

Dean understood what Sam was saying and that it was exactly what Dean wanted really, but he still had to say, "Giving in is fighting?"

"I can beat this," Sam said with conviction, "I can control it, Dean, I know I can. No more running." Finally, Sam pulled away from Dean—Dean doubted he could have done it—and looked at his brother resolutely with red-rimmed hazel eyes. Dean was fairly certain his didn't look much better. "No more running," Sam said again, "And no more surprise visits from yellow eyes without me there too."

There was no denying Dean liked the sound of that. Sam having these powers was fine by him, but only if all conscious and unconscious parts of Sam were in control. Suddenly, Dean thought of Sasha out there flying on autopilot.

Sam seemed to immediately understand the look that must have crossed Dean's face. "He'll be okay. He didn't go far. He'll be back sooner this time. No demon to…catch." Sam made a pained face. "Fuck. How can he forgive me for doing that to him?"

"You heard him," Dean shrugged, glad that both their tears were drying at least, "Apparently he's fine with being used if it's for me." This time it was Dean's turn to make a face. "That didn't sound right."

A choked laugh managed to find its way out of Sam.

"Think we might get ourselves off the floor and stop acting like girls long enough to look presentable by the time he gets back?" Dean queried.

Sam nodded.

They were sitting at the table, the uneaten pizza between them, when Sasha finally came through the door again. At first his eyes were that same dead stare, but all Sam had to do was look up at him and Sasha blinked back to himself. He smiled when he saw that everything was okay again.

"Figured you could handle things without me," Sasha said, patting Dean on the back as he came up to the table. Dean wanted to smile back but he knew Sam wouldn't let Sasha get away with acting so nonchalant.

Sam was out of his chair in an instant and pulling Sasha into his arms. The kid just couldn't help himself when it came to hugs. "I'm so sorry. I'll never do that to you again. I swear to you. I love you so much. I don't want to lose you or Dean. I'm taking your advice," he said, pulling away with an attempt at a smile, "No more trying to push the powers into some tiny corner in my head. I have to except them. The only thing that's ever really hurt me or someone else because of them was from me trying to keep them away. That doesn't mean I'm going to just open myself up to new powers without trying them first, but…no more holding myself back."

Of course Sasha didn't really need the apology but he was happy to hear Sam's proclamation. He obviously believed it was the best choice too. Part of Dean wanted to believe otherwise, but there really wasn't a nice third option hiding somewhere. It was either let Yellow Eyes run amok or deal with the powers directly.

Dean asked if Sam knew what those other yet to be discovered powers were, but he swore that like his younger persona, he couldn't be sure. One of them, however, seemed to be the ability to feel the presence of nearby demons, since Sam had been able to send Sasha after one so close by. That had been a power steadily growing though, meaning there were still others that they knew next to nothing about. After tonight, Dean didn't really want to think about it.

They ate maybe half the pizza, all of them having lost most of their appetites, and decided on calling it an early night. Dean and Sasha had both lost their other appetite as well so there wasn't even any talk of getting another room. They wanted to head out early anyway, after grabbing a quick goodbye breakfast with Ula of course in thanks for all of her help.

Dean sunk into bed that night feeling bodily and emotionally wiped. It felt kind of liberating, having gotten all of that off his chest, even if it did nothing to stop the angst twins from wanting to help him at all costs. Maybe things would be better now. Different. Dean trusted that during the night there would be no strange encounters with yellow eyes, and even if there were at least Dean knew now that even the beast in Sam didn't mean him or Sasha any real harm.

Still, that didn't keep Dean's dreams at bay, which seemed to rear their ugly heads at him with a newfound vengeance. Dean woke up shivering in the middle of the night with Sasha's arms wrapped protectively around him. Dean didn't remember what he dreamed, only that it included red and yellow eyes, lots of pain, and that horrible haunting laughter. Dean almost didn't realize at first, faint as it was, that Sasha was softly singing to him.

And all love through darkness
Don't you ever stop believing
With love forlorn
With love you'll find your way
My love

Damn mental triggers. Dean felt the tears welling up in his eyes immediately. Sasha had called him out of his nightmares with the Lullaby and Dean shivered even harder to hear it consciously. He saw no truly restful nights on the horizon for him. His time was too short. The future too bleak. But in Sasha's arms, wrapped in the Lullaby he remembered from his youth, Dean wanted to believe. He wanted to believe that behind the door to his future there was more than fire and brimstone waiting.

Breakfast went by smoothly. Ula only blushed for a few minutes, and really, Dean couldn't blame her, what with being surrounded by three adult and very handsome men. Well, at least two of them were handsome, Dean thought with a grin. By the end, everything was easygoing, and they laughed at Ula's stories of the rugrat versions of Sam and Sasha.

They had all of their things packed with plans to head to Patoka, Indiana soon after. Dean and Sam had been waiting in the car for Sasha actually, who said he just had a few other things to say to Ula, when Dean finally got restless enough to go back in after him. He found Sasha leaning over the counter towards Ula, whispering something. Dean smelled a rat, though he couldn't be sure about what.

"Anything I should be worried about?" Dean prompted as he stepped back inside the lobby, arms crossed over his chest.

Sasha jerked away from Ula and Ula's face immediately flushed, not from embarrassment or guilt it seemed, but more from apprehension. "No," Sasha said with what Dean recognized as a false smile, "Nothing to worry about. I just had to…tell her something."

"Okay. What's going on?" Dean was not in the mood for mind games.

"Oh. I'm causing trouble," Ula said miserably.

"No you're not," Sasha jumped in, "It's just…look, you don't need to worry. I've already told you I believe you. And Dean will too. He trusts me, right? Dean," Sasha said, turning to Dean suddenly without a thought towards explaining that little exchange, "Why don't you take a picture? We wouldn't want to forget Ula when she's been so good to us."

Now Dean knew something was up. But he had a feeling that somehow Sasha was trying to tell him something, especially since Ula looked a little worried. Dean fished out his phone and flicked it open to take a picture as asked. "Okay, but you better explain…why…" Dean trailed as he held the phone up to take in Sasha and Ula's figures. "Why…Ula's eyes are shimmering like a shapeshifter!" Dean switched his phone to his left hand and reached with his right back to where he had his gun tucked into his jeans.

"Dean!" Sasha called out, hands held up defensively, "It's okay. I've known Ula was a shapeshifter since I got back to normal. Shi sensed it too, she just…didn't think it was important since she didn't sense any ill will. Ula also sensed me and Shi all along. That's why she was so understanding. She knew we were hunters."

"But…" Dean just didn't get this, "Shapeshifters are not like an incubus or succubus, dude. I've killed three of them. Believe me, I know. Evil." Dean's hand twitched to continue its trek to grab his gun.

"Not all of us," Ula spoke up, though she did look wary of Dean going for a weapon. She didn't know that the bullets in Dean's gun weren't silver right now. "I know most of my kind kills the people they take the form of, but I never have. I swear. Ula died five years ago. Naturally. And I…well…I needed a place to hide out and the family was just so happy to have their daughter back. They know I'm not really her, but I like being Ula. I don't mean anyone any harm."

Of course Dean picked up on the important part of what she had just said. "And who were you hiding from?"

Ula's expression sank a little further. "I'll admit, hunters, but…but they didn't understand. Please…"

"Dean, Ula's on the level," Sasha said, "Really. Some creatures can fool our senses. Not shapeshifters. She's been living here as Ula for five years. When she has to shed her skin she just takes on the same form again, a little older. She's just living out her life. Simple. Quiet. And she makes Ula's family happy. I was just talking to her about ways to keep other hunters off her radar. I didn't mean to keep it from you, I just…"

"Figured I'd react…like this," Dean surmised, and finally he pulled both hands back out into the open, filled only with his phone, "Okay, I'll buy that. People seem to be so fond of keeping these little secrets from me. Well…alright. But you better believe we'll be back in this town faster than my baby can do a 180 if we ever catch wind of mysterious deaths around this place."

It took Ula a moment to realize that Dean's words meant he was giving the okay. Her entire face lit up and she nodded vigorously. "Thank you so much. I swear, I'd never hurt anyone. I watched over Sasha and your brother, didn't I?"

Dean couldn't deny that. He gave Sasha a good push though when they were finally heading to the car, because really, people needed to stop keeping things like this from him, and they were so telling Sam too.

Of course when Dean got into the car, seeing Sam beside him and Sasha in the back visible through the rearview mirror, he couldn't help grinning to himself. Letting Ula off the hook, or whoever she really was, wasn't all that hard to believe of Dean Winchester these days. He knew better than anyone how things—people—were rarely as simple as they first appeared.

THE END...of Arc 5! To be continued right here with Arc 6!

A/N: Good news folks. there will be at least 8 arcs now, so I'm going to stop putting a cap on. Who knows where this will finally end. I just keep getting ideas. And after all, I do have to get them all the way to Dean's final days. Thanks so much for the amazing response on the last chapter. I hope you enjoyed this one and please feel free to leave another cookie. It is always appreciated. Congrats also to Jae Winchester for being my 500th reviewer! He has more treats coming soon. ;-)

Crimson