I return! A few days late, I apologize, but married, healthy, and with a long chapter to start of the rest of this arc. Please, friends, go and read deangirl1's new Wedding story for Incubus Redux if you want a first-hand account of my nuptuals. Everything went wonderfully. Oh how much more wonderful if a certain couple had actually attended. :-) Also, check out the website through my profile for pictures. I'll have them up soon. Enjoy!

Part 2: Old Friends

Sasha looked so uncharacteristically nervous that normally Dean would have had to tease the incubus as mercilessly as possible. Given the circumstances, however, and just what it was that had Sasha relentlessly fidgeting, Dean took what Sam often called 'the high road'. Dean didn't generally like 'the high road'; he liked getting down and dirty, damn it, and in more ways than one. But that didn't mean he didn't know when taking things too far was plain and simple a bad idea. Sure, Sasha was smiling as goofy as a middle school kid going on his first date, but this was a lot bigger than that.

As it turned out, and Dean didn't doubt at all that Shiarra had something to do with it, Charis wasn't too far away from them in the larger city of Alexandria. It was only an hour's drive from the small Louisiana town they had just finished banishing their banshee, and since they had no planned destination yet it wasn't out of their way.

"Where am I going again?" Dean asked of the rearview mirror.

"Next left, Dean. Oak Street. It should be on our right," Sam supplied. He had been more than happy to give up his usual front seat spot. Letting Sasha sit in the back to fidget and overanalyze over everything all by his lonesome just hadn't sounded like a good idea.

Of course Sam and Dean both had offered to sit this one out and let Sasha meet with Charis alone—Dean had even said Sasha could borrow the Impala, which was without a doubt the kindest gesture that existed for Dean Winchester—but Sasha insisted that Charis wanted them to come and that he was more than happy to have them along too.

"There's an open spot there," Sam pointed out after they had turned the corner. The little coffee place Charis had said she would meet them at was right on the corner of the next intersection.

Dean parked without hassle, turned off the engine, and sat, knowing damn well that Sasha would not be jumping out of the car quite yet, much as Dean liked to believe this was a happy occasion. "Dude, she wants to see you. She was the nice one, remember?" Dean said, "I'll take a peck on the cheek over a dislocated shoulder any day. And I'm pretty sure that's about as much as she has planned anyway, not a raiding party. We already know she left Lindsey at home, right?"

Even though the comment had been meant as a joke, Dean quickly understood his mistake as something dark passed over Sasha's expression. "She didn't leave him home. He refused to come," Sasha deadpanned, "She took this long to contact me hoping she could convince him, but…" he trailed with a deep sigh. Then, straining to return the smile to his face, Sasha looked more melancholy than nervous for some reason, which Dean hardly thought of as an improvement. "Sorry. Bright side. I'm totally there. Really. Charis wants to see me, and I want to see her, and I couldn't be happier to have you along too." Sasha glanced back to be sure Sam understood that he was just as much included.

Dean still had a strong feeling that he and Sam would both be feeling like a giant Winchester third wheel before long, but for now he was happy to be able to support Sasha. After all, Sasha had something that neither Dean nor Sam had ever really had—friends outside the hunter life that he didn't have to hide anything from and could still get in contact with today.

Sam hadn't even gotten the chance to tell Jess.

"So…going in might be a good idea, ya know, in the next hour or so," Dean teased since Sasha had made no move whatsoever to open his door, "It's gonna be okay, man. She just wants to catch up. Get to know the 'you' you are now, the whole adult kickass hunter package. I know you want the same thing. Nine years is a long time to be stupid. 'Bout time both sides wised up, if ya ask me. Come on." And with that Dean promptly got out of the Impala with all intentions of hauling Sasha out after him if necessary.

Thankfully for the redhead's sake, Sasha got out on his own, along with Sam, and the three of them made their way into the little out of the way coffee shop on Oak Street.

It was dark like one of those old beatnik poetry places and there were very few people spaced out at different tables and cushy chairs drinking lattes. Dean was so ready for his mid-morning dose of coffee. The caffeine from breakfast had long since run its course through his system. They had basically left their motel as soon as they finished eating—Sasha had barely even touched his bagel—and made straight for Alexandria. Sasha had been thrilled that Charis was close and wanted to meet right away before they got caught up in another hunt. From what Dean had been able to vaguely overhear, Charis sounded equally ecstatic that everything had worked out so well.

Yep, Dean thought, Shiarra had definitely played a hand in all this. And for that Dean liked the succubus even more.

"Sasha!" sounded a familiar lighter female voice from one of the corner booths. The boys all turned and easily spotted Charis' copper-colored hair and the way her silvery eyes seemed to glow in the meager light like a cat's.

She was indeed alone, not that that was surprising, but her smile and exuberance couldn't have been more genuine as they approached the booth and she got out to embrace Sasha just as heartfelt as she had at Dean's birthday. Dean allowed some small surprise though when Charis also immediately turned to embrace him, and then moved on to Sam as well.

"I'm so glad you both came too," she said, sliding into the booth again and inviting all of them to do the same. Dean slid in opposite Charis next to his brother so Sasha could sit beside his old friend, to which Sasha cast Dean a thankful smile. "I feel like I need to start by apologizing for…well, everything. I hope Lindsey didn't hurt you too badly that night," she said to Dean.

Of course Dean immediately dismissed the comment. "Nothing that didn't heal eventually," he said. After all, it wasn't Lindsey's fault that the damn shoulder kept getting worse instead of better. Dean had two other assholes and company to thank for that. "Couldn't convince Billy to tag along, huh?"

Charis looked confused at first until recognition hit her and she laughed lightly. It moved her under the light a little and Dean caught sight of her dusting of freckles. "I probably would have had better luck asking the actual Billy Idol to come out for coffee." She instantly turned to Sasha beside her. "You have to know that it's not that he doesn't—"

"Still care for me," Sasha finished, smiling somberly, "I know. Everyone seems to be of that consensus. Lin just apparently missed the memo."

A frown crossed Charis' face. "He just worries. For you," she insisted, "You know the reason he's probably the last person who would ever trust hunters. You know what he thinks of them. And it's even worse with it involving you because to him it feels like this huge…" Charis trailed, like she didn't want to finish the phrase even if it wasn't her thoughts she was explaining, "Betrayal," she finished distastefully, "But please understand that not all of us think that. Even at first it wasn't like that, it was just…I don't know. Maybe we were just scared teenagers and there's no other excuse, but that's no excuse either. Lindsey took it the hardest when you left because he chooses to make it personal. It's not. I know that." Suddenly, Charis gathered up Sasha's hands to hold them tightly in her own. "It was something you had to do, and we should have been able to understand that. You're father was a good man, Sasha, who tried to live in both worlds and maybe even could have done it. You wanted the same thing. And…even though I'll admit I still have a little…fear…" her eyes almost imperceptibly glanced over at Sam and Dean, "I could never believe you were a bad person or that you would choose to be with people who were."

If Dean had ever doubted his liking for Charis before then it was certainly thrown out the window now. Her speech also had the effect of making Dean dislike Lindsey that much more. Okay, so the guy's parents had been killed by a hunter. Understandably he would hold a bit of a grudge. But Sasha's parents had gone the same way and Sasha turned that anger into something he could use to help others, to maybe prevent mistakes like that from happening again.

To Dean that made much more sense than shunning a good friend for wanting to make a difference. And yet Lindsey still had enough pull with Sasha to make the redhead question himself, because despite Charis' speech Sasha still looked crestfallen.

"Not a bad person," the incubus repeated, nodding but not as if he agreed, "You really think so? Even with everyone turning on me, forcing me out, calling me kinslayer? Of course I know I didn't have a choice," he continued before Sam or Dean or even Charis could contradict him, "But it doesn't change that I killed our kind, my own family, and that I'm not even welcome in my family home anymore. Maybe…maybe Lindsey's more justified than I want to believe."

Oh Dean was all over speaking up in response to that, but Charis beat him to it. "Sasha," she said in a tone that Dean had to admit was firmer and more commanding than Shiarra at her most motherly, "First of all, Lindsey does not believe you should be banished any more than the rest of us. He uses what happened with your aunt as a reason to prove you should return home. That's what he wants. He wants you home and away from hunters he thinks will one day turn on you. That's the only thing that will make him happy at this point," she huffed, "And it's bullshit. Any ten year old could sense how much these two love you. I'm more grateful to you two than you could imagine," she said to Sam and Dean, "For being what we couldn't but should have been from the start. You're braver than the five of us put together for that."

Dean Winchester was not one for being put on the spot, but he never said no to admitting a job well done. Befriending and loving Sasha was something he counted among his greatest accomplishments. So while Sam gave that boyish smile as if to say, 'oh no, not at all' or whatever other shit Sam's unassuming expression was supposed to say, Dean gave a firm nod of acknowledgement.

He then promptly ignored Sam kicking his ankle.

"Dean said the same thing…about Lindsey worrying over me more than hating me," came Sasha's voice, soft and not quite so self-loathing. A smile twitched at his mouth as if he wasn't sure he could believe what he was realizing but he desperately wanted to. "Lindsey really…he really just wants me home?" Sasha asked Charis, to which the succubus nodded with a somber smile that spoke of how much she wished the same, "Okay. Then when you go back to him tell him this. I want that too. I do. But not if I have to give up what I am. Or them," Sasha indicated Sam and Dean, firm with resolve now, "I want to be able to go home and see everyone, but I can't. And I don't regret that. I did what I had to. I'm a hunter first because that is what I do and what we do is what makes us who we are. I'd like all of you to get to know this me, but hunting is always going to be part of the package now. If Lindsey can't accept that, I understand, but only if it's because of what I am, not them. He doesn't get to hate me because of them. They've saved my life so many times now I've lost count. And that's the part that matters, that it isn't about keeping track or owing each other, it's just what we do. I hope you can understand that too."

Maybe for a split second Dean had felt a sense of panic when Sasha started off by saying he just wanted to go home. It was the same panic he felt when Sasha with the mind of a five-year-old had said the same thing, huddled in the back of the Impala. Hearing Sasha's amendments, however, had Dean glowing. He had no doubts that Charis was on the fast track to accepting them and Sasha being hunters, even if Lindsey still wanted to be a jackass.

Of course the two sex demons kept saying things like 'all' and 'the five of us' and other words that indicated the conversation included more than Lindsey and those present. Dean knew the others' names, but he didn't know them, other than having seen a glimpse of a fifteen-year-old Cam.

Before Dean could ask about all of that though Sasha and Charis had made their peace and were falling into more casual conversation.

Dean was reeled in when Sasha started telling Charis about how he had met the Winchesters. It seemed to solidify her acceptance of them to hear how they had saved Sasha even after learning he was an incubus and thinking him the bad guy. As it turned out, Dean didn't feel like half of a third wheel at all because soon it was all of them together filling Charis in on what had been happening to them. Even when Sasha explained more about his time hunting alone it never felt awkward, and when Sasha finally started pressing Charis for information, well, Dean couldn't deny his curiosity.

"You're both heading for twenty-six already, Charis, I know you've sworn yourselves to each other by now," Sasha was saying in a teasing and—Dean couldn't help noticing—brotherly way, "I'm not going to be mad that I missed it. Disappointed, sure, but it was never a secret that you two were pretty much mated since birth."

Dean wrinkled his nose at Sasha's word choices and turned to Charis. "Does all that sworn to each other, mated crap mean you're something like married to that white-haired asshole, coz I am so sorry for you if it does." Of course Dean was smirking, not entirely serious, but that didn't stop Sam from kicking his ankle again.

Charis giggled and Dean could have sworn he saw something of a pink blush rise up in her cheeks. "No denying it, I guess. Lindsey and I did swear ourselves to each other pretty much the day after he joined me in being twenty-five. Never saw much point in waiting. And yes," Charis said more specifically to Dean, "That basically means we're married, just our people's way of it. We can't take another as our mate until the age of true adulthood, but after that it's simply our choice. And I am sorry you missed it, Sasha. Cam stood for Lindsey of course, but it should have been you."

"Who knows," Sasha shrugged, "Maybe some day…Lin could still stand for me." Sasha smiled at that and Dean had the strangest feeling that the incubus was trying very hard not to look at him. "So I want to know," Sasha went on quickly, "Did you throw in any human touches? You know my parents got married in a church and everything, Dad being Irish Catholic and all. Apparently, he told my Mom that if they didn't get married in a real church his poor dead parents would come back as vengeful spirits and he really didn't want to have to salt and burn those bones." Sasha laughed aloud at the joke.

Charis rolled her eyes, but gave a light chuckle too. "No church," she said, "But I did have a white dress and Lindsey looked very handsome. Cam played for us but I would have liked to have had you there to sing something. You two always complimented each other so well."

"Played?" Dean broke in, because frankly he liked that he complimented Sasha so well, "What does this Cam guy play?"

Apparently, Sasha was only too quick to pick up on Dean's trepidation. "Piano. And not because he ever wanted to. I think his grandmother sort of forced it on him. There's always something, skills and talents and whatnot that our families are certain will better us for hunting."

"Like waltzing and singing and having an account through your aunt for Armani suits you never wear?" Dean supplied.

Sasha's bright blue eyes narrowed but he was still smirking. "To name a few. Cam was always the most resistant to that kinda stuff though. He's a little more simple and gritty about things. Or at least…I assume he's still like that," Sasha added with a look at Charis.

A slightly somber smile caught Charis' expression again. "He is. I'm hoping you'll be able to find out for yourself soon. I gave Cam and Eppy and Atty your number. I'm guessing they'll find their…own ways of getting a hold of you…in their own time."

To be honest that made Dean a little nervous, especially considering the halting way Charis just said that. He liked Charis, but it sounded as if Lindsey was just looking for an excuse to take Sam and Dean out of the equation and there was no way to know for sure if any of those others would feel the same way. Dean didn't really like the idea of one or more of them just dropping in.

Of course by the time he had some coffee in him and the conversation started whirling again, Dean was more inclined to believe Lindsey was the exception and not Charis. So many of her stories involved those other names—Cam, Eppy, and Atty—and often had amendments of 'and Eppy and Atty couldn't stop saying how much they wished you could have been there' or 'Cam forgets sometimes that it's just the two boys now, and when it hits him he looks as crushed as he did when you first left'. Dean supposed he was most thankful for all the times Charis said how sorry she was that they had all been so stupid for so long, because losing all that time only because of fear was such a waste.

It really was.

"I'm going to need to head out soon," Charis said eventually, after hours had passed and they had long since managed on what the coffee shop served for lunch, "But I'd like to make this a more regular thing. Between hunts every so often maybe?" she said with a wide, genuine smile. She had clearly grown quickly comfortable around Sam and Dean, trusting Sasha and what she could feel from all of them. "I'll keep working on Lindsey. Maybe now that I've gotten the chance to get to know you two he'll believe me more when I say you can be trusted. In the meantime," she said, her smile turning the slightest bit crooked as she reached into the purse beside her and pulled out a slip of paper, "I may have a job for you."

"A job?" Sasha repeated.

"A hunt?" Sam clarified.

"Right up your alley from the looks of it," Charis nodded, unfolding the paper with an address and bits of notes written on it, "There's this school in Pittsburgh—larger area than you're usual, I know—where a lot of mysterious deaths have been occurring. Mostly students too. High School. They might have shut the place down by now if the deaths didn't look like accidents. Too much of a coincidence I figure though. Interested? I have more written here."

Sam was the fastest in reaching over to pull the piece of paper towards him. He scanned the notes for a bit and then resettled back on the name of the school with a chuckle, pointing it out to Dean. "Who knew there'd be a prep school somewhere with a name like that?"

Dean leaned closer to Sam and the piece of paper. Really, he couldn't help chuckling either. "Winchester Thurston Prep School," he read with a smirk, "Pittsburgh, here we come. How'd you learn about this hunt anyway?" he asked Charis.

Something like that somber smile appeared on her face again mixed with mischief so that together her expression had this strange hopeful look to it. "Someone passed the info along. I thought you'd find it useful. I never said I had a problem with hunting. Only if the hunters are coming after me or mine. Stick to the real bad guys, boys, and we won't have a problem," she grinned.

It wasn't lost on Dean that she hadn't actually answered his question. Then again how often did women ever do that really?

They had a long drive ahead of them from Alexandria, Louisiana to Pittsburgh, but they planned to drive straight through and crash once they got there. As a bonus Charis decided to hitch a ride until about the halfway point since she was meeting up with Lindsey in Kentucky. Despite owning a car she hadn't brought it with her. She only had along what was in her large purse, and had apparently had flown to Alexandria. Dean didn't press for whether or not that included an airline. Either way it solidified Dean's theory that Shiarra was keeping tabs on them and had obviously passed their whereabouts along.

It had been a long time since there had been a woman in the Impala, especially when it wasn't just to make out with Dean. Charis sat in the back with Sasha, reminiscing and catching up the entire way. Sometimes they were entirely immersed in each other and Sam and Dean could both enjoy listening in on the chatter of life-long friends, something neither of them really had outside of each other. Other times they were pulled into the discussions too, which Dean realized were becoming more and more centered around him, specifically around him and Sasha.

The fact that no one ever needed to ask anymore but just knew both annoyed and filled Dean with pride. "So what exactly does this 'Hands off; Sasha's Property' sign above my head look like anyway?" Dean snarked as he drove, "Are we talking neon blinking lights or just a giant arrow from Sasha's dick to my ass, coz this is getting on my nerves that anyone even slightly supernatural can tell I'm screwing an incubus."

Sam's eyes were bugging out of his scull as he gaped at what Dean had just said. Of course Sasha merely laughed, and to the girl's credit, Charis—albeit a little pink again—giggled as well. "It's a little more subtle than that," she managed, "And to be honest, less about the sex or pheromones and more about the—"

"Charis!" Sasha suddenly cut her off, looking oddly panicked.

"What?" Dean pressed, more than a little worried if Sasha was that adamant about him not hearing the end of that sentence. He could see the anxiety marring Sasha's face from the rearview mirror. "If the tell-tail sign isn't the pheromones from lots and lots of sex then what is it?" Dean was serious now, and had a feeling he had good reason for it.

Charis didn't answer, too busy staring incredulously at Sasha to indicate that he should be the one to explain, not her. Unfortunately, Sasha didn't look any closer to speaking up either.

"Sasha," Dean said with a tinge of anger, "If you did something to me you better damn well tell me what."

"It's not…I-I didn't…I didn't do something to you," Sasha sputtered, "It's…it's not a big deal, really."

"Sasha Jonathan Kelly," Charis said with that same Shiarra-worthy authority, "It is a big deal, especially for you to have marked him without telling him. He's human. He can't feel it like we can. You don't just mark someone without their permission. You know better than that."

It truly amazed Dean how quickly and easily Charis could get Sasha to cower. "I…I was trying to protect him!" Sasha defended, "I wasn't trying to lie. I thought if I marked you as my…potential mate," Sasha admitted to Dean, "That it would keep you safe if we ran into any of my kind along the road. Of course then Lindsey decided to take it an entirely different way…" Sasha trailed and bit his lip like a child being scolded.

Oh Dean hadn't even begun with the scolding. Of course he fixated on the part of that explanation that angered him the most since he hadn't been told about it before now. "Potential mate? So…so what does that mean to people who can see it? Are we…engaged?" Dean almost choked on the word. This was too surreal and so not funny. For once Sam had the decency to look shocked into silence instead of taking this up as an opportunity for teasing. Smart man.

"Well…engaged might not be the best way to put it, but…" Sasha faltered, looking pretty much like a cornered animal now, "I suppose you could look at it like that."

"Do you look at it like that?" Dean demanded. He was barely watching the road anymore, focused far too much on Sasha's face in the mirror.

Sasha's whole posture was crestfallen and his face spoke of so much anguish it usually would have broken Dean's heart, but for once that wasn't going to be enough to soften Dean's feelings on the matter. Especially after Sasha responded with, "If I did look at it like that…would that make this conversation better or worse?"

"Sasha!" Dean slammed a hand against the steering wheel, "You don't…you don't do something like that! You don't make those kind of decisions for someone! I never agreed to be your mate or your…fiancé or anything else! I'm barely handling the whole boyfriend thing. Fuck. You and Sammy are so much alike sometimes it kills me."

"Me?" Sam practically squeaked since he had remained valiantly silent and out of the argument until now, "What do I have to do with anything?"

No amount of huffs could possibly be enough to express Dean's feelings in response to that question, but he gave a good huff in Sam's direction anyway. "You're kidding me. You, Mr. I'm-gonna-mojo-you-whenever-I-feel-like-it don't know what you have to do with this conversation? You two and using your powers for my own good on me is not okay. And if you ever think about doing anything like whatever it is you did to me again," Dean growled at Sasha, "Then you better ask first. And don't go thinking I'm gonna be accommodating the first time you bother asking either. Now take this…mark or whatever off me. Now."

Dean's tone allowed for no reproach and he was at least a little pleased to see that Charis seemed to completely agree with him. She had her arms crossed tightly over her chest and was looking all disapprovingly at Sasha.

Sasha on the other hand was thoroughly crushed. Dean could feel it without even having to look at the shattered expression on the incubus' face. Dean didn't care either. It wasn't as if Sasha had ever proposed or anything, and what the hell would that mean anyway? It wasn't like marriage really, it was just…what? Swearing themselves to each other? And what did that mean? That they wanted to be together, sure, Dean got that, and he wanted that, he did. He wanted to be with Sasha. But Dean wasn't stupid. He knew what it really meant that Sasha had 'marked' him as his 'potential mate'. It meant that at some point Sasha hoped, no, expected that Dean would allow Sasha to initiate him as an incubus.

And that kind of thinking wasn't good for anybody. Planning for a future like that was just stupid when Dean didn't have a future to give. That was what Shiarra had wanted to impress upon Dean the last time they parted, and Dean got that. Sasha apparently didn't.

"I…I can't just take it off of you, Dean," Sasha said in a low, barely audible voice, "I'd have to…sever the link…and only then would it wear off eventually on its own. But if I did that then…I wouldn't be able to open the circuit to you anymore."

"Fine. Do it," Dean said sharply.

Sasha took a breath that sounded suspiciously like he was staying tears.

Dean was not going to cave on this. They were supposed to be honest with each other. They were supposed to be past shit like this. They were supposed to be able to think of a future as a tangible, possible thing too, damn it, but they couldn't. They were supposed to have more time. But they didn't. And as much as Dean hated that, he hated being reminded of it more. Why did Sasha have to keep dangling perfect in front of him when he knew it was just going to be taken away?

"I know what you're thinking," Sasha said suddenly, "I know why you're angry."

Right. Sure he did, Dean thought, gripping the steering wheel too tightly.

"I know I should have told you, should have asked, should have been honest, should have, should have, should have. But we would have been right here sooner, Dean, with you thinking you're not worth it, don't deserve it, won't live to get it, or whatever other fucking stupid things you tell yourself. You keep saying you want to let us help you, Dean, that you believe we can, but you're so full of shit. You won't let yourself believe you can be saved. Why? Do you want to die? Do you want to leave us?"

"Stop," Dean pleaded, sounding suddenly more like Sasha, forlorn and desperate instead of angry, "Don't bring her into this," he said, not having to indicate Charis since it was quite clear who he meant, "It's not her business and it's not yours to try and get inside my head. Or yours," Dean added pointedly to Sam, as if he half expected that Sam was crawling around inside his head already, "I don't need either of you psycho-analyzing me. Can't this just be about me being angry coz you overstepped your bounds not asking me first? You'll fix it, I'll get over it, we'll move on. The end."

"But it isn't the end!" Sasha shouted, "Will you stop saying it like that! Why do you have to act like there's some final chapter end to the book of your life looming—"

"Because there is!" Dean had half a mind to pull over so they could finish having this out face to face and be done with it already. "I…know you can save me, okay? I believe it. If anyone can save me from Hell it's the two of you." Dean glanced up and saw Charis' eyes widen in the rearview mirror. "Yeah. Sold my soul to bring this sorry sonuvabitch back to life," he said with a thumb jerk at Sam, "Smart move on my part, huh?"

Of course Sam frowned in disapproval but Dean wasn't about to care right now.

"And of course I don't want to leave you, idiot," Dean shot at Sasha, "I'm just being practical. There's a fifty-fifty chance here. Either we fix the deal or we don't. And if we don't, and I have to leave you pathetic assholes behind to take care of yourselves, then I want to leave you with as little extra baggage to carry around as I can. If that makes me the bad guy in this argument, I'll take it." Dean paused, allowing the tense silence that followed. Eventually, he looked up at Charis again in the mirror. "Sorry you had to hear all that."

If anything Charis looked mildly amused. "I'm not," she said plainly, "You're a fucking idiot."

Dean almost choked. "Come again?"

Charis still had her arms crossed as she had for Sasha and she regarded Dean with that same motherly manner too. "You're an idiot," she said, "I added the fucking part because I figured you'd understand it better that way."

A snort immediately rose from Sam as if the guy couldn't help it or something, and Dean turned a nasty glare on him in reply.

"You think you can make things easier on yourself and Sam and Sasha by not looking forward to any kind of future, even though it couldn't be more obvious that you do," Charis went on, "And probably often by my guess. You don't want them to think about it, or at least to know and have to face that they think about it. That's why you're angry. Dude, as if I haven't dealt with that kind of martyrdom before," she smirked with a flick of her eyes at Sasha.

Sasha, in fact, looked like he was trying to quietly curl himself into the tiniest ball of incubus he could manage and maybe, hopefully disappear.

Sam, amazingly enough, wasn't chuckling at all but looked damn close to it with how much he was straining to hide his grin.

And Dean…well, Dean had almost distractedly sped up enough to ram their car into the one in front of them. "Did…did you just call me dude?"

This time the snort that rose up was definitely from Sasha, who immediately cleared his throat to mask it. "She, uhh…she does that."

"What?" Dean pressed, "The 'dude' thing? Or the older sister bitch-out monologue she just threw at me?"

"Uhh…pretty much both."

"Huh. Coulda warned me."

"Dean," Charis said in that tone that just bled authority, "I didn't know about the deal. I'm sorry. But if there's even a chance of breaking it then you shouldn't be giving up on a future so easily. Sasha was wrong to mark you without telling you," she added with a glare of silver fire directed at the incubus, "But you're not upset for the right reasons. I appreciate that you being upset has nothing to do with the incubus issues. Just the intimacy ones. That's kind of cute, actually. But don't be angry with him for wanting a future with you. It doesn't take an empath to feel how much you want the same thing, even if you are afraid it won't happen."

Damn. Dean knew he didn't have female friends for a reason. Jo was entirely different.

"Look," Charis continued, smiling all sweet again like she hadn't just ripped Dean a new one, "I know it's a few hours yet until my drop point, but I think I'll leave you boys be. Lindsey and I have been meaning to stop home anyway. It was great to see you, Sasha," she said, pulling the redheaded incubus in for a fierce hug, "Until next time I'll keep working on Lindsey. He can't say no to me forever. Never was very good at that."

Sasha laughed into Charis' copper hair as they finished their hug. "Thank you," he said. The sentiment was heartfelt and meant for far more than just Charis' promise to speak with Lindsey.

Understandably, Dean and Sam were a little confused by what Charis meant by this planned departure, and Dean wondered if he was supposed to pull over and just let her out on the side of the road. But Charis simply said her goodbyes, smiling all friendly at the brothers, though with a slightly harder look at Dean, picked up her purse from the Impala floor, and in a moment was simply gone as if she had never been in the backseat at all.

Dean's initial reaction was warranted shock and anxiety but then he remembered the discussion they had had with Sasha once about the whole hearthing home thing.

"Dude, did she just bamf?" he asked. Unfortunately, the usual expected chuckling or smartass remarks didn't respond. Instead, it was suffocatingly quiet. Even though Sam was staring forward and looking like he wished he could bamf too, and Sasha was staring down at his lap, Dean still felt as though both their eyes were boring into him.

"Dean…" Sasha spoke first.

"Don't," Dean said almost viciously soft, "I'm so sick of apologies I could scream. I screw up too, ya know. And a lot more often than you two. Your screw-ups just come with all that superhuman to go with 'em. Doesn't make it worse than me being a jackass for no reason."

"Dean, there was reason," Sasha dissented, "I shouldn't have done something like that without asking you."

"No, you shouldn't have. Just like I shouldn't have taken so long to tell you a certain something not long ago. Pot and Kettle again. Story of this trio's life together." Dean sighed and released one of his hands from the steering wheel to run back through his short-cropped hair. "I gotta stop…doing this. I know it ain't fair to quit believing in a future just coz I'm scared. And I am. Scared. I'm fucking terrified over here, okay? But you gotta realize I've never been the plan ahead guy. I'm the moment to moment, never know when you're gonna die guy. Only this time I do know and it's screwing everything up. I never had anything to really…look forward to…before."

As he spoke, Dean seemed to be trying to wring out the steering wheel in his hands, making that awful squeaking noise. He wanted to close his eyes so he wouldn't have to see everything so clearly. Not exactly a good idea on the road though.

"You don't…have to sever anything," he said quietly to Sasha, "I think I'd miss the circuit…if I never got to feel it again." Simple words maybe, but Dean didn't try to hide the emotion in his voice that spoke of his double meaning.

A smile was Dean's response, sweet and loving as always; he knew that without having to look up at the mirror. "Dean…I…" Sasha trailed, searching for the right words, or maybe wishing they were alone for this, "I just…want you. I love you. And I wanted every possible person or thing that would be able to see the mark I left on you to know that. I know I was wrong, but if it helps…most things other than an incubus or succubus would only sense the excess pheromones. They'd be more likely to think you were an incubus than to think you're sleeping with one."

Well that certainly explained Faust. Dean sighed again. As long as he didn't think of it as being engaged or anything crazy like that, or that Sasha so obviously wanted Dean to join him as an incubus someday, Dean wouldn't panic. It was hard enough realizing he loved Sasha and was loved in return. This whole promising themselves to each other thing was pushing it.

Dean was more than willing to let this go. To just allow that he was marked or whatever and pretend nothing had changed. He could quietly hope for the future and fear it at the same time. But he should have known that Sam would have to go and make things awkward again.

"Uhh…would it be weird if I asked—"

"Yes," Dean said without thinking.

Sam scowled. "I was just wondering—"

"Whatever it is, Sammy, I'm sure you don't want to know."

"Dean," Sam practically whined, "I'm not looking for intimate sex details okay. I was just wondering what you mean by this…circuit."

"And I knew that's what you were gonna ask, and the problem is that it is an intimate sex detail."

"It just means the flow of sexual energy between me and Dean when I feed," Sasha offered, "Theoretically I can open anyone to it for a short time, but it's something…bigger if we're connected the way we are now since he's…marked."

Dean hated that particular way of saying it. There really wasn't a better one though. "Anything else?" he shot at Sam, "Wanna know how many different places or positions we've—"

"No!" Sam interjected, half-horrified at the mere mention, "I don't need to know anything else. Sorry. This is just…unconventional, so I like to be aware of the…safer things. Details you can keep to yourselves."

"What do you mean unconventional?" Dean threw right back, "An incubus having sex with a human is not that off the map."

A slow grin broke into Sam's expression. "Actually, I meant more the whole you, Dean Winchester, sleeping with the same person on a regular basis. I mean, come on, how often has that happened."

Really, Dean was a master at one-handed—and sometimes no-handed—driving. He had to be so he could always have at least one hand free to punch Sam in the arm. He took a little pride in the fact that Sam still grimaced when he did it too, despite all that resilience and super-strength. "So anyway…we good?" Dean asked the rearview mirror, "I wanna be sure here that there's nothing else we're keeping from each other. I'm a dying man. Can't take too many more surprised."

Naturally, that awarded Dean a deep frown from Sasha, but knowing Dean's humor as the incubus did, the frown quickly faded into a half smile. "You're not dying, Dean. Period. And I haven't kept anything else from you, I promise. I didn't even mean to keep this from you, I just…wasn't sure how to bring it up. You're not keeping anything from me, are you?"

Dean honestly took a moment to think about that. "Well I'm sure there's a crap ton of sexual fantasies I haven't gotten around to telling you yet, but…I think you're safe. But if I haven't mentioned enough how much I hate these chick flick moments of caring and sharing, please consider this your last warning, coz next time I will not be nearly as forgiving. We gotta knock this off and have some fun or something, huh? Pittsburgh's gotta have some good hot spots to hit. Can't spend all our time on the job."

"Actually," Sasha said with something much more akin to his usual smirk, "Pittsburgh is quite widely known for its gay and lesbian community. Bars, clubs. There's actually this B&B—"

"Okay, forget I asked," Dean cut in.

"We could get a good deal."

"I don't even want to know how."

"Well, it would keep us off the usual radar," Sam supplied.

"Hey," Dean spat in Sam's direction, "Stop encouraging him."

Of course Sam was grinning wide enough to show off his dimples, the bastard. He had way too much fun watching Dean squirm to be entirely evil-free. "Just helping you embrace your new lifestyle choices, bro."

Dean's grip tightened on the steering wheel as Sam grinned at him and Sasha giggled in the back seat. "I swear to god, Sammy," Dean said, searching out one of his old but time-honored threats, "One of these days I am so selling your ass to the circus."

They finally arrived in Pittsburgh early the next morning, having taken turns driving and catching a few hours of sleep, which meant that when they finally checked in—to a Super 8, god damn it, not some frilly B&B—all of them wanted nothing more than to crash. There was apparently some Home and Garden show thing at the Pittsburgh Convention Center that had a lot of rooms booked, so they had to share. Considering all of them burned out as soon as they found their beds, none of them really cared.

They awoke some time in the afternoon and decided to just order in, research more into what was going on using Sam and Sasha's laptops, and maybe pay a late night visit to the school before actually getting into some regular field work the next day. They had already decided to go the easy route and just present themselves as PIs looking into the mysterious deaths. If this prep school thought some of its students' parents were worried enough to hire out then they would be a lot more accommodating.

Sasha suggested Chinese for food, which Dean decided he didn't have nearly often enough what with how ridiculously good the fried wantons and sesame chicken was.

About ten o'clock they gathered up all they had been able to find out and compared it with Charis' notes. Dean was still a little curious as to how she had gotten her info, but he didn't brother bringing it up. "Okay, so this is what we got so far, right?" Dean started in, staring over Sasha's shoulder at his laptop screen while Sam was next to them looking at their notes on paper, "Winchester Thurston Prep School has had six deaths in the past month. They only got about fifteen-hundred students, so that's crazy no matter how ya look at it. Looks like four were students, and two teachers, all having something to do with this show they're starting to work on."

"Their Spring Musical, 'Once On This Island'," Sasha filled in, "Good show. It's a modern, Caribbean telling of 'The Little Mermaid'."

"And why do you know that?"

"Oh shut up," Sasha said without losing a step, "I've heard you humming 'Singing in the Rain' more than once so don't even try to play innocent with me. To continue," he said with much stress on his words despite his grin, "Both teachers were helping on the play, the music director and one of the costume people, and all of the students were somehow involved, whether chorus or just stagehands. Maybe we're dealing with a vengeful spirit of some kid who didn't get the part he wanted once."

Sam, who was also grinning to himself over Sasha and Dean's previous exchange, sifted through their notes. "Possible. Not all of the deaths happened near the auditorium but they did all happen in the same campus. No deaths reported in the buildings for the younger kids and middle school. And the types of death are all different. No normal spook M.O. One teacher fell from the catwalk, the other was found at the bottom of a staircase. And the kids…inhaled paint fumes, slipped on a wet floor in the hallways, impaled on a…urg. Power drill," he read off the notes.

"And the last one?" Dean asked.

"Most recent," Sam went on, "Cynthia Hedin. Senior. Stage Manager. Found with a seven industrial staples in her jugular. Bled out. Man," Sam looked up, "I can't believe these people keep passing this stuff off."

"Well, they do all look like accidents," Sasha shrugged, playing Devil's Advocate, "Maybe that's the M.O. Maybe someone died in an accident during a school play there. Any previous deaths in the place?"

Sam shook his head. "Not on my end. But then a school like this could probably cover something like that up. These deaths are all fresh and it was still like pulling teeth to find what we did. Barely managed to get a hold of the police reports."

"Sounds like asking faculty and students is gonna be our best bet for finding out more then," Dean said, patting Sasha's shoulder and tossing a glance at his brother, "Still wanna hit the school tonight?"

"Definitely," Sam insisted, "If it's somehow demon related—"

"You would have sensed it already," Sasha cut in.

"Maybe not," Sam shrugged, "Pittsburgh is pretty big. I wanna be sure. And who knows. Maybe I can learn to sense other things. We're going to have to be careful though. I'm sure a place like this has security, not just a janitor mulling around. The last thing we need is police attention."

Amen to that, Dean thought. He was not in the mood for another FBI chase.

They waited a few more hours before heading out, taking along as many of the basics as they could think of—EMF, holy water, iron, rock salt, and even this enchanted dog whistle for calling out black dogs that Sasha had grabbed from one of his father's storage places. Better to have all of their bases covered, even if they didn't expect to encounter anything quite yet.

After parking the Impala a few blocks down they made their way stealthily through the mostly residential areas until finally reaching the school building with the auditorium. They figured it was the best place to start considering their theories about the school play. The building was pretty impressive too, once they managed to stay out of sight from the one security guard watching the grounds. They expected there to be at least one more inside the buildings, but assumed he only made checks throughout, and wasn't just stationed in one place. That might mean they could get in and get out without incident.

Actually breaching the building automated security was a joke by Dean's standards. It was another type of B&E where it was more important to break in carefully and not set off alarms than it was to just get in. Just as Dean expected though, after he picked the lock to the back of the auditorium's building, the alarm system kicked in silently, allowing him thirty seconds to punch in a security code in the pad beside the door. He typed in 'WTPS', the school's initials, and groaned at human idiocy for that being the correct answer.

"Seriously, could people be more predictable?" he grumbled at Sam and Sasha.

"Come on," Sam said, pointing his flashlight down the hallway that led from the door, "Let's get our readings, keep a look out, and make this quick. If we run into anything, we'll have to deal with it, so let's stick together."

Dean was fine with that plan. They got themselves split up way too often. That was fine in some circumstances, but when they didn't know what they were dealing with it could be downright dangerous.

Sasha whipped out his EMF and started scanning, Dean had his sawed off loaded with rock salt, and Sam led the way with his flashlight, apparently trying to see if he sensed anything now that they were inside the building. Judging by the way his lips were pursed, Dean assumed he didn't.

"So what's this musical about?" Dean whispered to Sasha, since Sam was a little ways ahead of them as they made their way in and out of a few classrooms.

A grin spread across Sasha's face, though he tried to keep his eyes on the EMF readings. "I told you, The Little Mermaid," he said, "Only it's this island girl who saves a rich boy, and after he goes back to his family she tries to find him again and prove that their love is worth it even if some people think it's…wrong." Blue eyes left the meter just long enough to flash over Dean's body beside him, shimmering in the dark.

Maybe the story didn't sound so stupid after all. "And it's a musical?"

"Oh yeah."

"So…schools actually put on that stuff?"

Sasha stopped just outside the most recent room they had scanned. "You're kidding. You went to high school. Of course there are musicals and plays. Drama club? Something? Okay, so maybe you weren't ever in any shows, but they had to have existed. Even I had theatre in school."

Now that Dean couldn't possibly leave alone. "Were you in any of 'em?"

"Uhh…" And that was definitely a new shade of pink that flushed to Sasha's cheeks.

"Dean! Sasha!" interrupted Sam's fiercest whisper from down the hall.

Damn it. "We're coming back to that," Dean promised, and then started down the hallway after Sam, "What is it, Samantha? Sense something? See something?"

Sam shook his head, but his eyes were wide as he turned halfway to Dean with his other half still pointing down the hall, like he was listening very carefully. "I think I hear something. Sasha?" Sam prompted, looking after the incubus for confirmation since Sasha did have slightly more attuned hearing than the average human.

They all stood very still to listen. Dean couldn't hear anything, but the look on Sasha's face said that he most definitely did. "The main auditorium is down that way through the double doors. Think it's coming from there?" he asked Sam.

Sam seemed to want to shrug, like he wasn't entirely sure, but he just stood still. "I…I sense…something. But I'm not sure what. It's kind of…familiar."

"Well, great, then let's get a move on and take a look," Dean suggested, walking past Sasha and Sam in the direction of those double doors, "Guns at the ready might be a good idea," he said over his shoulder, giving his shotgun a wave in the air. Sam and Sasha both had handguns on them loaded with iron. Wouldn't do much if it was just a ghost, but then that's what Dean was for. Then again, Sasha's EMF hadn't even blipped.

Dean was almost to the double doors when he realized Sasha and Sam were not right on his heels. He turned back to see that both of them were still back where he left them, looking equally distraught. There was a classroom with its door open right beside Dean and the double doors were mere feet beyond the point he now stood. He still couldn't hear anything.

"Guys, seriously, what?" he called to his companions, "We doing our job here, remember? Search and destroy. You coming or not?"

"Dean, wait," Sam said firmly, holding up a hand as if he was still trying to get a handle on what he was sensing.

Sasha was still a few feet behind Sam but suddenly the incubus' eyes went unnaturally wide, indicating that whatever there was to sense, he now knew more about its identity than Sam. "Dean!" Sasha yelled, but Dean didn't get the chance to hear him. He was already on his back, having been rammed into the hallway wall by something very strong and moving very fast that had just bolted out of that open classroom door.

Whatever it was continued like a blur straight for the auditorium doors. Dean never got a good look at it, but he was on his feet a second later, ready to chase it down. "Sonuvabitch!" Dean cried, sore from his sudden striking against the wall and equally hard landing on the floor. He was already through those double doors to follow after the creature when he heard Sasha yelling.

"Dean, wait!"

Like hell. If this thing wanted to hit and run then Dean would give it one hell of a chase in return. He now knew that 'ghost' was definitely out, but Dean still had a piece tucked into his jeans and that was loaded with iron just like Sam and Sasha's. Iron could kill just about anything.

The auditorium was large and very dark, but a big space like that always had emergency lights and this place was no exception. Dean could see dimply the shape of something moving quickly for the stage. There was no set yet, it being almost two months before the production would open, giving Dean plenty of room and a clear line of sight. He dropped his shotgun to the floor, pulled his handgun, and raced after the large shadowy figure towards the stage.

Dean lost sight of it about the time he reached the ramp that led up onto the stage from the side. The stage itself was filled with shadows that played tricks with Dean's eyes. Distantly, he could hear the sounds of Sam and Sasha joining him in the auditorium and their voices kept calling after him. He wanted to call back to them, but he also wanted to get the jump on this thing if at all possible. He couldn't afford to wait for them or give his position away.

The thing seemed to have a pretty good handle on Dean's position already though. A scurry off to Dean's left, back in one of the far corners, caught Dean's attention. This thing was fast alright but Dean still saw it coming when it swooped down after him. Dean fired on instinct but unfairly missed as the creature—it had to be a creature—plowed into him and knocked him back off the edge of stage.

Dean had hoped the fall would be a quick drop to the floor. But the pit for the orchestra was an open gaping hole where he had gone over the edge, and it had a much deeper drop. Dean hit the ground with a great gasp of breath as the wind was knocked out of his lungs. The creature was still on top of him.

"Get off me, you big freak!" Dean growled against the thing's neck as he pushed at its large form, "You're not killing any more kids, and you're sure as hell not killing me!" Dean pushed again and was surprised this time at how easily the creature moved. Then he realized why. It was getting up of its own accord. Suddenly, it grabbed onto the edges of his leather jacket and lifted him effortlessly from the floor to push him back against the wall of the pit. Dean's head was spinning from the fall. He couldn't focus.

"I didn't kill anyone," came a gruff, out of breath voice from the creature. It was younger and more human sounding than Dean would have expected, "I was trying to find the thing myself. It wasn't me."

Dean's first instincts were to say 'yeah right, likely story' but then he couldn't deny that this thing was stronger than him and definitely had the upper hand. So why was it defending itself instead of just ripping Dean apart?

"It wasn't me," the thing said again, his grip—for it was most certainly male—loosening on Dean's jacket, "I wouldn't hurt anyone. We don't hurt people."

We? Dean strained to focus his eyes finally and get a better look at this guy. As it turned out, even with Dean pressed back against the wall the creature wasn't any taller than him, but actually stood about eye level. Dean wasn't so concerned with that though. He was much more interested in the horns, fangs, claws, red eyes, and wings. This guy's white skin didn't fade to black but to a deep brown. Still, he was definitely an incubus.

Which would explain why Sasha had tried to stop Dean. Damn it.

"My bad. Jumped the gun. Mind letting me away from the wall here. My head's still spinning from that fall," Dean said, relaxing within the guy's hold now that he knew what he was dealing with.

The incubus seemed thoroughly surprised that he was being believed so easily. "You…know what I am?"

"Uh…yeah," Dean said, as if it should be obvious, "And if you paid a little more attention, pal, you'd probably realize why." Dean shook his head a little and righted his jacket when the incubus released him. This gave Dean the opportunity to really look at the guy, who had fairly short brown hair to go with his deep brown wings, claws, and markings. "Huh, didn't know you guys had different color schemes."

The bronze incubus was staring at Dean hard now, apparently finally seeing that whole 'mark' thing that everyone else picked up on so easily. What Dean wasn't prepared for, however, was the guy's somewhat breathy exclamation of, "Are you…Dean?"

Dean gaped. Okay, it couldn't be that widespread that a hunter and an incubus were getting it on, could it? But Dean's slightly open mouth dropped even lower as he stared at the incubus before him. Those brown wings were fading away along with everything else as he transformed back into a recognizably human form.

As a human the guy was a few inches shorter than Dean actually, wore jeans, a T-shirt, and one of those sporty zip-up shirts, and had brown eyes with a tinge of gold to them. Dean instantly remembered those eyes and the incubus they came with, even if this version was about ten years older than the one Dean had seen before.

"Holy shit," Dean breathed, "You're Cam."

tbc...

A/N: I certainly hope I never disappoint. My dears?

Crim