Part 9: Careful What You Wish For

Dean was so used to being shot by now. He hardly saw the need to go to the hospital for a measly shoulder shot. But after mentioning the crack he heard on impact and the numbness he still felt varyingly throughout his arm, Sam and Sasha had been insistent that amateur bullet removal would not be satisfactory this time. Dean ended up staying the night, it being so late anyway, and with Wade turning out to have that concussion after all, and Cam and Leven being pretty adamant about staying with her, the whole crew spent the night in the hospital. Dean could only assume that Charis and Lindsey were the exceptions and he wondered if they would even show up the next day.

One thing Dean was grateful for besides their miraculous recovery of the hunt and all included was that all Sam had needed to do was flash his badge at the on-call doctor and the guy hadn't bothered to report anything to the police. No mojo required. It was a constant inconvenience for most hunters that all bullet wounds were supposed to be reported. In small towns they could usually avoid that but it was harder in big cities like Pittsburgh.

Therefore, with everything settled and pain medication pumping through his system, Dean really should have had a peaceful night's rest, but Sam's restlessness woke him up sometime before six. As much as Dean loved his brother that was just not okay.

Dean had a fairly nice private room, so there was a little sofa and some chairs as well as a bathroom. Sam, from what Dean could see when he blinked past heavy eyelids, was pacing back and forth in front of the window. Sasha was asleep on the sofa, curled up impossibly small and turned in towards the back of the cushions. The incubus slumbered on, apparently not bothered by the 6'4" behemoth who was shuffling back and forth nearby. Dean was another matter.

"Christ, Sammy," he whispered wearily across the room, "Would it kill ya to sleep in for a change? Used to have to drag your ass outta bed most times. What gives? That was one helluva night for all of us. Figured you'd be comatose."

Of course Sam had paused in his pacing as soon as Dean's words filtered over to him, but he didn't say anything at first. He attempted a weak smile eventually and just shrugged. His face looked drawn and tired like he hadn't slept at all. "Too restless to sleep. Took inventory for you," he said with a gesture at the table by the sofa where there was a small notepad. Dean assumed 'inventory' meant Sam's current list of superpowers. "But I…I couldn't get back to sleep. In my defense I never was as good as you at sleeping sitting up," he shrugged again towards the chairs.

Over the years Sam had gotten fairly good at changing subjects with something of a joke attached, a weak impersonation of his older brother. Dean never fell for it though. He decided not to beat around the bush. "I'm not gonna lie to you, Sammy. It pretty much freaked me to shit when you stopped Leven's heart like that," Dean admitted, "Your other powers, they're…they're wicked but they're not…instant death charms. So I get the staying up, over-analyzing thing that you being you couldn't resist. But Sammy, you also brought him back. Gordon and Kubrick? They only saw the lethal side. What you did up on that roof was something good. I mean I know you said before that the melting power was more like electricity, but you could have gone all force lightning with it and instead you became a human heart zapper. You saved all of us."

It annoyed Dean to no end that Sam had a small, patient smile on his face through all that and he expected at any moment to be contradicted. But then Sam said, "You're completely right, Dean. I know you're right," surprising Dean completely. To better keep his voice hushed Sam walked over to Dean's bed finally and sat on the edge leaning forward on his knees. "I'm not angsting over my powers, Dean. Not the way you think. I just…" Sam sighed, running a hand over his eyes and then down the length of his face, "I can do so much. And I'm…actually kind of enjoying some of it. But despite everything I can do, the best I can come up with to save you is throwing demons at the contract holder until he gets so irritated he shows up to tell me to knock it off." Sam laughed humorlessly and scrubbed his face again. He looked so tired.

Really, what more could Dean do but smack his brother upside the head like always. So he did. "You know, for a super powered genius you sure are stupid a lot of the time," he said, watching Sam rub the spot he had just smacked, "We have a few months yet to try things and you're getting new powers all the time. Maybe instead of beating yourself up over what the ones you have can't do, you should work on figuring out the ones you don't know at all. Coz I'm thinking…" Dean trailed because Sam was laughing softly to himself and this time it wasn't false.

"Dean," Sam chuckled, "I gotta say…I never thought you would be encouraging me to be more of a freak. Haha. We sure have changed."

This time Dean rather liked the use of 'we'. "And yet fully human or not you're still enough the same Sammy that you need a good night's sleep. You look like shit, man. Will ya lay down already? And don't open your eyes again for at least an hour or two."

"Uhh…" Sam looked around skeptically, finding Sasha in the one place laying down was even remotely possible and wrinkling his nose at the chairs and floor.

"Just lay down," Dean said again, scrunching himself over to one side of the small hospital bed as far as he could go, "It's mainly my fault we're sleeping here tonight anyway."

Sam just blinked at Dean, apparently sure is brother was joking. "It's morning. And I don't know what drugs they have you on but you do realize you're inviting the wrong part of this trio to snuggle, right?"

Smart ass. "They'll be no snuggling. And no kicking," Dean commanded with an outstretched finger, "But with limited options here I'll make the sacrifice. I'm not gonna get back to sleep with you pacing around anyway, so lie down and shut your cakehole. There's room." There was. Not much. But it was more than most hospital beds offered. Dean doubted he'd fall back asleep either way but he'd feel better knowing Sam was taken care of.

"Dean, really…" Sam tried, but Dean was too tired and worn to listen.

"Sammy," he said with authority—firm, practiced authority. He didn't have to say anything else. No need.

Reluctantly, Sam sighed, that small smile back in place again, and carefully he situated himself next to Dean on top of the covers. He lay on his side facing away from Dean but of course their bodies still sank in towards each other with the extra weight on the mattress. Dean had grown so used to having another body next to him in bed that he didn't mind the heat and weight along his good side, the one with the shoulder that hadn't been shot.

Another sigh left Sam and Dean recognized that one as exhausted relief. Jumbo would be asleep in five minutes. "Stubborn ass," Dean grumbled contentedly as he allowed his heavy eyes to close again. Maybe he would be able to fall back asleep after all.

"Pot," Sam grumbled back.

It took Dean a moment to get the joke. He chuckled lightly and really couldn't resist the exhalation of "Bitch" that followed.

Sam barely managed his responding "Jerk" but it was there.

Dean smiled as he drifted off. At least for a little while all was right with the world.

When Dean woke up the second time it was to the smell of coffee. It was a couple hours later and Sasha had just returned from the machine juggling three Styrofoam cups. The incubus grinned at Dean and the still sleeping form of Sam next to him. At some point Sam had rolled onto his other side and now had his head resting on Dean's good shoulder. At least it was less snuggling than Dean had woken up to with Sam before.

"Say one word," Dean warned as Sasha handed him a cup.

The redhead leaned down to kiss Dean's forehead and then set Sam's coffee on the table. "Wouldn't dream of it," he smiled.

A few minutes later Sam had joined them in the land of the living again and while he went out to see about Dean's release, Sasha and Dean gathered what of their things they needed to pack up. Of course both of them wanted to check on Wade and the others as soon as possible. Leven had been pretty beat up even if it wasn't enough to warrant medical attention, and all of them were understandably wrecked.

Dean was surprised that when they were just about set, his shoulder sore but taken care of with medication and one of his softer T-shirts on, that it wasn't Sam who came back in but Charis.

She peeked her head around the door, her thick straight hair tied into a messy bun and her silver eyes shimmering merrily as she said, "Morning! Everyone still breathing?"

Sasha's face lit up immediately and Dean had to admit that he was growing rather fond of Charis too. The surly dispositioned Lindsey that followed in after her, however, was less of a pleasant surprise. A quick glance at Sasha proved that the redheaded incubus was taking these slightly tense meetings in stride though. At least he and his old friends were speaking again.

"We checked with Cam first," Charis said, "I think they'll be a bit yet. Leven's really worried about you, Dean," she added, "But I think he's too ashamed to come see you himself, poor thing. He's a mess. Have you come up with any ideas on who might have summoned the demon?"

They had brought Charis and Lindsey up to speed on the way to the hospital last night. Dean remembered that Lindsey hadn't said two words after the conversations on the roof. "Not yet," Sasha answered Charis, "But that's our first order of business once we're out of here."

Actually, Dean had a pretty good idea who it was after thinking things over last night but he didn't want to say anything until he was certain.

"Are you guys going to…stick around a bit?" Sasha asked hopefully. His eyes were forever straying to Lindsey but he always spoke to Charis.

Which may have been why Sasha jumped a little when Lindsey answered him. "We can't," he said shortly. Dean saw Charis' elbow jab none too gently into Lindsey's side. "I mean, we…would," Lindsey amended, softening his tone somewhat, "But we have to get back. Family business at home. Charis' older sister finally found someone foolish enough to promise himself to her."

"Lindsey!" Charis exclaimed, more mock-affronted than the real thing since she seemed to be hiding a grin.

Sasha laughed openly. "Chastity? I don't believe it. She's getting hitched? What kind of dark magic she tap into to pull that one off?" he laughed again.

It seemed impossible, but Dean could see the corner's of Lindsey's mouth twitching. "I'm still betting she's a harpy in disguise," he said so flat it was obviously a tease, "But I'm pretty sure she'd eat me alive before I could prove it." He chuckled lightly and Sasha joined him with another genuine laugh.

"All right you two," Charis jumped in chidingly, as if she was used to breaking up similar exchanges. She was smiling brightly. "Chastity is really much better," Charis said to Sasha, but Lindsey raised his white eyebrows with an exaggerated skeptical look and Sasha burst out laughing again.

Simple as it all was, the interaction spread warmth throughout Dean's chest for Sasha's sake. Still, he really had to comment. "Just so I know I'm not crazy," Dean said once the laughter had faded again, "Chastity? That's gotta be the most ridiculous name for a succubus ever. Am I wrong?"

This time it was Charis who laughed. "I told you my parents liked to be ironic," she giggled.

Yeah, the other redhead was definitely growing on Dean. "Anyway," Dean smiled back at her, "Why don't you all go back to Cam and keep those guys company? I can finish up here. Sam'll be back soon anyway." Dean knew that Sasha was aching for more time with his friends and the case just hadn't allowed for it.

"Yeah," Sasha smiled wide, shooting Dean a look of absolute devotion and gratitude, "I really want to check on them myself. We kind of got scattered to the winds last night after everything was over." Sasha eyed Lindsey optimistically, knowing that Charis wouldn't need convincing, and walked closer to the door to join them.

"I'll catch up," Lindsey said, his face so much softer now that the ice had been, well, more melted than broken. Softer didn't mean the white-haired incubus was smiling though, and his dissention brought instant disappointment into Sasha's face. It pleased Dean though that Lindsey immediately spoke up to banish that. "I will. Really. You go. Help Cam. He really has his hands full with that family. I'll stay and…help Dean," he finished a little awkwardly, casting Dean a gauging look that indicated helping Dean pack wasn't actually what he had in mind.

Sasha looked a little startled by this but Charis was smiling. Eventually, Sasha nodded, looking to Dean to make sure this was okay, and since Dean wanted to believe Lindsey wasn't secretly plotting his death anymore he nodded too. A minute later Dean was alone with Lindsey and of course couldn't help thinking of that damn journal entry almost right away. He had no intention of bringing it up.

Awkward would have been a nice way to put how that first minute, and frankly the few that followed it, felt. Neither of them said anything or really moved but just kept trying not to make eye contact. Dean was about ready to burst and knew he had to say something when Lindsey finally spoke up first.

"Cam…confirmed what you said…before," Lindsey started a little haltingly, looking more at Dean's T-shirt than at Dean, "That bullet in your shoulder was meant for him. And aimed a little more lethally too."

Figures it would take a complete act of self-sacrifice to sway this guy, Dean thought with a mental smirk. "Yeah, well…turns out the bullet was lead after all. Could have saved myself some trouble if I'd known that," he grinned.

"But you took the risk anyway," Lindsey countered, "If it had been your brother or…or even Sasha I might have dismissed it. You don't even know Cam."

That was never an issue. Dean shrugged. "I know enough to know he's a pretty cool guy whose brains look better inside his head than splattered on the floor. Wouldn't have mattered though. Could have been you, who I'm not nearly as fond of," he teased, "Or even someone I'd never met before, and I would have done the same. Part of the job description."

There was a small huff from Lindsey as the incubus rolled his eyes, though not at all with the same distaste as he had once before. "The job description for hunters," he said, not really as a question.

"Well, actually, Sam and Sasha would probably say it's more an older brother thing," Dean admitted, his smile going a little crooked as he said that, "They know me best so…we can go with that. If it makes it easier for you." Dean smiled big, hoping he came off as joking friendly-like and not mocking.

Lindsey didn't return the smile but he didn't scowl either. Definitely an improvement. "You know why I hate hunters?" Lindsey asked, "I assume Sasha told you."

Lying certainly wouldn't improve this relationship. "Yeah, he uhh…he told me."

"Then you understand why I might not ever be able to trust you," Lindsey continued impassively, "Not completely anyway. Sasha…I'd like to trust him again. I would. He's wrong if he thinks I've hated him just because he wanted to be like his father."

That was surprising to Dean because he had assumed it was that simple.

"It's hard to believe I can trust him either with him a hunter, but he's still one of us. What made me so angry back then…was that he never said anything to me. Best friends our whole lives and he doesn't bother to tell me he wants to be a hunter until we're ready to head out into the world? I figured…if he didn't trust me then why should I trust him? And I know how stupid that is," Lindsey said in frustration, walking past Dean suddenly towards the window. From behind his white hair fairly glowed in the sunlight. "We were just dumb kids and we lost so much because of it. Maybe it's all simpler than I want to believe. Maybe it isn't a trick. Maybe you really do love him as much as I feel from you…and there really are hunters out there who only want to help." Lindsey turned back to Dean, surprising the hunter with how wet his too green eyes had become. "But I won't put the people I care about at risk. I will always have one eye on you."

Dean didn't bother saying that a second ago Lindsey had had both eyes out the window. "Fair enough," he said, "Just as long as you give Sasha more of a benefit of the doubt then you give us. He really misses you."

Again, impossible as it once seemed, Dean saw the corners of Lindsey's mouth twitch. "Will you…give him something for me?"

Dean frowned. "Why don't you just give him whatever it is yourself?"

Another deep sigh fell from Lindsey lips, but his harshness had vanished and Dean thought he was finally getting a look at who Lindsey really was. "Because I want you to do it," he said, almost childishly indignant, "After we leave. He'll make a big deal over it and…I'm not ready for all that…" Lindsey made a weak gesture at the air like he was trying to stir up the rest of his sentence.

"All that crying and hugging and girly crap," Dean supplied.

This time Dean was certain a corner of Lindsey's mouth curved. "Exactly. It's nothing big," he said, and as he did he reached into his back pocket for his wallet that he opened and started looking through, "I was supposed to give it to him…a long time ago. Never got the chance." Lindsey pulled out what looked like a small bit of paper and handed it to Dean.

A grin broke out on Dean's face as soon as his eyes fell on it. "Okay, you definitely made the right decision if you want to avoid the mushy crap. I'll give it to him."

"Good," Lindsey nodded. Then with some difficulty he added a low "Thank you" while redirecting his gaze. "I assume I don't have to tell you that if you ever hurt him…" Lindsey trailed pointedly.

Dean nodded. "Wrath and carnage. Got it. But, uhh…you'll still let me buy you a beer some time, right? Cam did. And you know your wife thinks I'm adorable," Dean smirked.

Again with the eye roll, though an almost humored one this time. Lindsey's eyes were just so green too, just like his dad had noted. Dean figured the white eyebrows only intensified that. "Maybe next time," Lindsey conceded.

Next time. "Good. Now you think you can be useful and actually help me out with some of this stuff, Billy-boy? I'm all hurt and broken after saving your friend after all." Dean moved towards the bags they had brought in so they would actually have clean clothes and their toothbrushes.

Lindsey, as asked, moved to help him. "Why do you call me that?" the incubus said as he hoisted a bag over his shoulder, genuinely curious.

"Eheh…" Dean almost bit his tongue, "At risk of ruining this blossoming friendship…I think I better keep that to myself."

On their way back from loading the Impala Dean and Lindsey ran into Sam. Everything was set for Dean to leave. Of course the doctor had wanted to see Dean again to go over a few things—it being so unprecedented to check out right after a gunshot wound—but Sam had taken care of that.

"This is not the Dean Winchester you are looking for," Dean joked with an Obi-Wan-esque wave of his hand.

The bitch-face made a prominent appearance. "Anything to keep from hearing someone tell us how to treat a recovering bullet wound. I think we have that covered," Sam grumbled.

And then some.

They met up with the others in Wade's room and it looked like she was in the process of being released as well. The nurse was just giving her a final once over. Wade was already dressed.

Dean noticed Leven's pained stare almost immediately. He hadn't gotten the chance to really talk with the kid and it seemed that since Dean had been the one to get shot, Leven was beating himself up over it even more. Not to mention how the kid must be dealing with what had happened to everyone else, including his own sister. Dean needed to get Leven alone.

"Hey, Wade," Dean called into the room while the nurse was writing something down. She was being very accommodating allowing so many people to mull about, but Dean supposed that was because Wade would be leaving soon. Dean caught Wade's eye when she glanced at him. She looked as tired as Sam had at six AM. "Anyone bring you coffee yet? I'll make a run," Dean volunteered. He got a couple more grateful orders and then grabbed Leven firmly by the arm. "Lend a guy a hand, will ya?" he said and promptly dragged Leven out without giving the kid so much as a breath or chance to argue.

Dean let Leven go once they were in the hallway, but he didn't lead them to the coffee machine. His room should still be empty for awhile so he led them there instead. Leven didn't seem to notice. He hardly looked up as they walked and didn't say anything.

Poor kid looked awful. The barely visible bruise that had been on his chin the other day was large and purple now after Sam's sure punch. Leven walked slow and stiff like he hurt all over but couldn't bring himself to lie down. Dean knew the feeling. He hated that what he was about to do would make everything worse, but it had to be done. Leven seemed to expect it too because when the kid finally looked up and saw that they were in an empty room, he just went and sat on the bed while staring at his hands in his lap.

"You know what's coming?" Dean asked, standing as sturdy in front of Leven as he could. His pain meds were starting to wear off and they hadn't stopped at the pharmacy yet to get his prescription.

"I…" Leven's voice immediately choked off. He glanced up at Dean and then back down again quickly, but it was enough that Dean saw how much his eyes were filling with tears. "I didn't…" Leven tried again, "I didn't mean for…any of that to happen."

"I'm sure you didn't," Dean replied severely but still as kind as he could manage, "What I don't understand…is why you didn't just tell us right away that you were the one who summoned that demon."

If Dean had had any doubts about his summation, the way Leven's eyes overflowed with those tears finally banished the last of them.

On principle Dean hated being around people who were crying. It was awkward and uncomfortable for all involved. But throughout his life Dean had been there for many people while they cried. Even his father. "I may be a hunter but I'm not about to go hunting humans. Especially not for some kid who got in over his head and didn't know what he was doing. What were you trying to do anyway? You couldn't have really wanted that thing to take you over."

Leven was sniffling and sobbing pretty good now. He didn't look just shy of eighteen like that, all hunched, broken and bruised. He really was just a kid. "It…it was just a…stupid spell," Leven managed, still staring down rather than at Dean. His turquoise hair was limp and disarrayed—as wilted as he was. "Wade…has all these books and…and there was this really old one…and…and I…" Leven shook his head, "I just thought…it would make things better."

"Better?" Dean repeated, understanding completely now and sick with the discovery, "Please tell me you didn't do this because the kids in your grade are idiots? Because of those bullies? What did you think was gonna happen?"

"I don't know!" Leven cried, and when his eyes looked up into Dean's again finally they were already red and puffy with the tears that kept falling, "The book…didn't make it sound like it was…what it was. I thought…if it made me stronger, if I had the power for a change then…maybe…"

Dean must have had on one hell of a disapproving look because Leven curled in on himself again suddenly and dropped his eyes back to his hands.

"I didn't…know it would hurt anyone," he sobbed, "I didn't even think it had worked. Nothing happened. After the spell…there was nothing. When people started dying I didn't think it had anything to do with what I'd done. Even…even when it kept being…people I knew…and liked. But when…when I saw Tina…with those eyes…I knew it was all my fault. It was all my fault. I deserved for that thing to take me…"

One detail Dean had still been sketchy about suddenly became clear. "You dropped the charm on purpose…" he breathed, that sickened feeling only worsening.

Leven's eyes darted up again, drying but anguished. He didn't try to defend himself.

"Christ, kid," Dean exclaimed, rubbing a hand over his face and up into his hair, "That thing was gonna gut you out of yourself and wear your body around like a suit, owning it and causing the same kind of mayhem other places. And all because you wanted to be different, or not be different, or whatever. I thought you said no one was gonna change your stripes for you? Did you mean that or were you just blowing smoke?"

For a moment Leven looked defensive, even fierce, but then his eyes filled with fresh tears and he stared imploringly at Dean. "I didn't…want…to not be different," he said, finally with a little conviction, "I just wanted…for it to not matter anymore."

With new sobs pouring out of the kid and those eyes just on Dean now it became too much for the hunter. Big brother mode took over and Dean was on the bed, pulling Leven against him in a halfway hug that rested Leven's head on Dean's shoulder just as Sam had been that morning. "What am I gonna do with you, kiddo?" Dean said gently, "For starters…I gotta know you're never gonna think up something this stupid again."

"No! I don't even want to look at Wade's books or…or touch…any of it," Leven promised, "Because of me…Andy and…and everyone…"

"Speaking of everyone," Dean tried to say offhandedly, pulling away enough to get a better look at Leven, "I can't see how it would benefit anyone to let the others know about this. Guess you're gonna be off the hook."

Leven looked up at Dean sharply. "But…but what are you gonna tell them? They know someone had to have summoned that thing."

"They're figuring small fry anyway, not anything with real power. I'll think of something."

Simply looking at Leven was enough to know that the kid was punishing himself enough for all included. Dean just couldn't see any merit to beating him while he was down. Hell, Dean had been the beaten one enough in those situations to sympathize. Leven was a good kid. He hadn't done any of it to hurt others.

Sometimes it just turned out that way.

"You are one of the decent ones…even if you don't believe it," Leven said, quiet and breathy as his tears began to still again. Instead of remaining leaning against Dean, a shaky arm slipped around Dean's waist and clung. "So…there's gotta be at least…a few good people out there…right?" Leven and Dean were both staring forward, side by side on the bed.

Dean squeezed Leven's shoulder, his good arm wrapped around the kid tightly. "I hope so," he said.

They didn't have much more time to wallow; the others would be wondering what had become of their coffee. So once Dean was certain those pesky tears were done for good—well, for now—he playfully rustled Leven's somewhat sad blue hair and led them back out of the room.

Goodbyes were being passed around when they finally returned to Wade's room, both for Charis and Lindsey who had to be on their way, and for Wade who turned panicked and then relieved eyes on Leven at his return and wanted more than anything else to just go home with her brother.

Dean couldn't help noticing that Sasha was talking with Lindsey and Charis in a way that seemed fairly congenial about their wedding—or promising, swearing thingy—and about the one they would be going to for Charis' sister. There was no hug from Lindsey when the couple finally left, no stiff handshake either, just a promising nod to Sasha that 'next time' was more than just a figure of speech.

"You guys leaving too?" Leven asked, still small of voice and unlike the boy they had first met. It was not going to be an easy or fast recovery for him, Dean knew.

"'Fraid so, kid," Dean said, "More people to save from big bads and all that. Sorta what we do."

Leven smiled weakly. "Yeah. But…but you'll come back for the show, right?"

"You're still going to do the show?" Sasha asked with that same hopeful smile.

"Duh," Leven answered, much more like his normal self, at least for a moment, "It's what I love doing. And…and I know everyone would want that. I'm not letting anything take away what makes me, me. Nothing's worth that." He glanced at Dean with gratefulness glowing in his brown eyes. Brown. The color they were supposed to be.

"When is the show?" Sam asked, "It's only the first couple weeks of practice, right?"

"We take our shows pretty seriously," Leven nodded, "Lots of practice time. We don't open until the end of April. You could make that, right? Please. You have to come back. There wouldn't be a show at all if not for you guys."

Dean felt a sudden fluttering in his stomach as he thought of that date. He wouldn't have been able to miss the pained looks on Sam and Sasha's faces either. The end of April would be cutting it close, only a couple weeks before the deal was up. It made Dean's answer easy. "Wouldn't miss it," he smiled, ignoring that Sam and Sasha looked a little startled when he said that, "Keep us posted, huh? Let us know if any other…spooky things pop up."

"What about the person who summoned that thing?" Wade pressed, rightly shaken and not really her normal self either.

It was inevitable that Sam or Sasha would speak up about how they planned to take care of that before they left town, so Dean spoke up first. "You don't have to worry. Already taken care of," he said, and again he happily ignored the looks he got from Sam and Sasha, and now Cam as well. He'd deal with that later.

"I don't understand everything that happened," Wade went on, shuddering a little as she remembered, "Psychic fortune telling on the side is not the same as field work with demons. But crazy as it all was, whether…human," she said to Dean and then looked at Sam and Sasha, "Or…whatever else, you saved my brother. And me. Thank you."

The experienced hunters always felt a little awkward when people were that forthcoming with their thanks, but they offered humble smiles and nods in reply. They didn't always get praise for what they did as hunting was more often a thankless job.

When Wade turned to Cam the gratitude in her eyes was greater for him than it had been for any of them, but so was the sorrow. Dean didn't understand it at first. Then suddenly, Wade was embracing the bronze incubus and a much damper sounding "Thank you" left her. She pulled away only for Leven to step up and take Cam's hand.

"Take care of yourself now. I'll be checking up on ya," Cam grinned at the teenager.

"Promise?" Leven grinned back.

Leven must have bypassed Sam and Sasha after that because Dean would swear he barely saw the turquoise blue blur coming before Leven was suddenly attached to him. The kid didn't say anything until he pulled away, grinning all kinds of strange sadness mixed with thanks and admiration and even a little mischief.

"Ya know," Leven said to him, "I was gonna go for a kiss."

That got Dean to blanch a little. "Don't even think about it," he warned. He didn't bother chiding the kid about how much that impromptu hug had hurt his injured shoulder. He was used to things like that happening by now.

When the Taylors finally headed off Dean stepped up to Cam and nudged the incubus' arm to get his attention. Dean understood Wade's look now, he just didn't understand its reason for being there.

"Why did that seem as much like a long goodbye for you as it was for us?" Dean asked, "Coz there's technically an open spot in the Impala but I figured two near death experiences on a hunt would be enough for you."

The others had clearly come to the same conclusion that Cam's goodbye was final and they all looked to him for an explanation. Dean noted that there was something of the same look on Cam's face as he had seen on Wade. "It looked like a long goodbye…because it was one," Cam said, "'Bout time I was moving on anyway. Might have left sooner if not for this mess. Maybe I'll head for a coast to wait out the rest of the cold. I can decide which one after I'm on the road."

"But…" Sasha sputtered, using his hands more than usual which Dean had come to realize was how he tried to find the words that weren't coming to him, "I thought…you and Wade seemed so…I don't know, just—"

"Sash," Cam held up a hand, his prior expression replaced with practiced skepticism, "Only you would want to be tied down after less than a century of living. And our resident Ozzie and Harriet," Cam added with a thumb jerk at the door to indicate Lindsey and Charis, "Maybe some day, but no time soon for me, okay?"

Sasha still looked troubled. "It…wasn't because of…" Sasha didn't gesture at all this time but what he meant was clear.

"No," Cam smiled a little sadly, "She was actually pretty cool about the incubus thing. Just a little too much to handle all at once, I think." Cam looked as though he wanted to say more but then suddenly he turned to Dean and was changing the subject, "So what did you mean about the case being all wrapped up? You guys do some moonlighting without me?"

A part of Dean almost grinned; he wasn't about to budge on the promise he had made. Maybe one day Leven would tell his sister the truth, but that was up to him. "Something like that," Dean said before Sam or Sasha could answer, "I had a hunch and went with it. Turned out to be right. Won't be any more problems." With that said, Dean turned to leave. He was always ready to get gone from whatever hospital they were at.

"What hunch?" Sasha called after him, "Who was it, Dean? Is that why you took so long getting—"

"It's taken care of," Dean said without turning, just a quick stop and sharp words before he continued walking. He could hear that the others remained still a moment before following, but his tone had apparently been stern enough to not warrant any further questions. "Now," Dean said when the others caught up to him, "I don't know about you guys but me and my sore shoulder aren't looking to leave this town til tomorrow. Any objections?" Dean waited less than half a second before saying, "Good."

Convincing the others to stay one more night was not difficult. And as Cam very vehemently stressed he had not yet gotten the chance to properly grovel at Dean's feet for saving his life. Of course Dean said the same thing he had told Lindsey, that the bullet had turned out to be lead and it wasn't really a valiant rescue, but Cam seemed to have the same mentality on the issue as his white-haired counterpart.

It was the thought that counted.

Cam also insisted on paying for their rooms for the night and at a nicer place. Considering the usual décor and cleanliness they dealt with none of the hunters had it in them to refuse. It was a staying in kind of night, much like their first night together, so after picking up the rest of their things from the other hotel and a few 'supplies' they retired to the hotel of Cam's choice. He'd be sleeping at his apartment another night before taking care of things in the morning for his departure. Assuming he was sober enough to make it to his apartment by then, Dean thought.

They ended up at a downtown local place, probably one of those B&Bs though Dean didn't ask. The room had a very individual feel to it anyway, classy, but not the 'don't touch anything' kind of classy. Cam got them a two-bedroom suite—meaning they had a small living room with two separate little bedrooms and a bathroom. Cam was clearly looking out for his old friend's best interest, not just getting them a good party space. Seeing as how this would probably never happen to them again, Dean decided to enjoy every minute of it and therefore ordered room service. Since Cam was covering the room it was the least they could do to pay for the food.

By the time they were completely settled in it was already afternoon. Dean kicked back on the sofa in the living room to rest his shoulder, chatting with Cam while the Hardy boys looked for any nearby demon activity they could move onto once they left—only until dinner, they promised.

Eventually, Dean was winning Reeses peanut butter cups off of Cam in poker and trying to teach the amateur a few tricks he knew as a hustler. Sasha caved first and eventually joined them, followed soon after by Sam.

Dean could play cards and shoot the shit all night, especially when there wasn't any real money involved. Even Sasha—who claimed to hate cards—was enjoying himself with Dean giving him tips. Though that was probably because Dean would crowd him each time so that at least some part of their bodies touched.

"What was that movie, Sash, I can't remember?" Cam said and then took a swig of his drink after folding—again. Dean had actually been the one to bring up the incubus boys sneaking to the human plain to see flicks on the big screen. Movie theatres were one of the few things they didn't have. Apparently bouncing TV signals was entirely different.

"Dude, that was our last run," Sasha said nostalgically, "Early '97, so…" the light clicked on and Sasha grinned, "The Fifth Element. Classic. Totally in my top five movies of all time."

"Totally," Cam nodded agreement, "Milla Jovovich in nothing but bandage wraps? Hell yeah."

That pure and genuine laugh Dean loved so much from Sasha flooded out of him. "I was thinking more of the awesome story and action, but…Lelu was pretty hot. God, I can't believe that was that long ago."

"How'd you sneak over anyway?" Sam asked. He was still working on his first drink. It was a concoction of Cam's that the brunette had insisted upon making them that included Kool-Aid, sprite, and a ton of vodka. The rest of them were onto their second drink and Dean was getting close to asking for a third. It was damn tasty and dangerous as hell. Just the way he liked it. He knew Sam would be cutting him off though due to the meds he was on.

"Lindsey always worked the magic for that," Cam said, "Remember, Sash? We wanted to do the old round robin routine, saying we were all at each other's houses, but he said instead we should all legitimately go over to his and wait til his grandfather started working on elder stuff, and we could sneak out without a hitch. We did too. It was the sneaking back in that got us in trouble," he laughed.

"But how did you actually get here?" Sam went on, "At fifteen you already knew how to…bamf?"

Dean snickered to himself at Sam hesitancy in using that term. Sasha seemed to enjoy it too because he choked a little on his newest swallow before answering. "There are portals, to make it easier for groups and families. But they have guards to make sure kids don't go…well, wandering off to see Bruce Willis movies, so we had to be pretty quick on our feet. That genius was all mine, thank you."

"The king of misdirection!" Cam said like an announcement to the ceiling and then burst out laughing again, "It was great," he said to Sam and Dean, "Sash here starts chatting up the guard, this hot blonde who had to be at least a couple centuries, so it's not like she was gonna fall for any old tricks. But he goes over and starts talking, distracting her so Lindsey and I can slip through. We get to the other side and figure we gotta keep going without him, coz there is no way he can sneak in after us without her following. Then not two minutes late, poof, out pops a redhead."

Dean had to admit he was enjoying this, especially seeing Cam and Sasha so natural and easy in each other's company more so then Dean had yet seen. "How'd you get past her?" Dean asked Sasha, since Cam was laughing again and hadn't yet moved on to finish the story.

A sly smile grew slow on Sasha's face. He shrugged coyly. "Wouldn't you like to know?" he teased. That same terrible tease that sent jolts right to Dean's groin when it was accompanied with that look.

"Ha!" Cam barked, slapping his thigh, "He still pulls that one, huh? To this day I don't know how he managed to get by her, but damn was the movie worth every bit of punishment we got when Lindsey's grandfather caught us sneaking back in. I think I was grounded til the change after that."

Sasha's smile was so wide Dean could count teeth. "God, Shi was so mad," he chuckled.

All in all it might have been the kind of exchange that would darken Sam and Dean's spirits since it was the kind of memory neither of them had—horsing around with friends. They really only ever had each other. That was fine by them most of them time, and much as they might have thought to mourn the loss of other friends, Dean caught Sam's eyes across the coffee table and smirked. After all, they had snuck out to movies together too. Hell, a few times Dad even went with them. It was a Winchester past-time to laugh at horror movies.

Dean finished winning yet another hand and Sam started whining for them to do something else, a movie, anything. Dean left it to his brother and the others then to pick a flick as he grabbed what empty glasses he could to hit the little kitchenette for refills. It had the usual sized mini fridge but also had a partition that almost made it seem like another room.

Half a second later, Cam came over behind Dean carrying the other glasses. Dean had been anticipating yet another heart-to-heart, but he had already suffered through three of those today and that was just plain unfair. He really didn't feel like going through the motions of another one. He didn't need Cam to thank him for taking that bullet or hear the guy apologize for not trusting them right away. He knew all he needed to.

So Dean was kind of shocked—maybe even pleasantly so—when Cam came up and said close and low beside his ear, "If you ever hurt Sasha in any way…you better believe I'll kill you long before Lindsey does."

The unexpected threat made the hairs on Dean's neck stand on end, which kind of hurt since he was still a little sore from the staple that had hit him back there. He turned his head slowly and the expression he saw was not the Cam he was used to. For one those golden brown eyes didn't look at all brown anymore. They glowed.

"I believe I was wrong. I believe you're the good guys. I believe you jumped in front of that bullet for me not knowing where it would hit you, and I'm thankful it was only your shoulder. But I meant what I said. If it turns out that I'm wrong and you can't be trusted…you're the one who's gonna pay for it. Not Sasha."

Definitely not the heart-to-heart Dean had been expecting. Really, he couldn't help smiling. "You make a mean drink, pal. Care to pour us some more," he said, sliding his and Sasha's glasses towards where Cam had set his and Sam's.

And just as quickly the darkness was gone, leaving a very normal looking and friendly brunette incubus. "Couple more of these and I'll be helping Sasha put you to bed. Things might get interesting," he winked.

Dean laughed at that because he knew Cam was the last person who would ever say that to him and mean it. "Careful what you wish for," he winked right back.

Sober or not, Cam did end up heading home—well, for as long as his apartment would remain home—but the goodbyes were quick. Much like Dean, Cam wasn't one for long, drawn-out goodbyes, so he just hugged Sasha fast and firm, shook both Sam and Dean's hands, and wished them luck with heading out in the morning. He didn't have any plans to go looking for more hunts, but if he stumbled across anything he'd let them know. He also promised to give Sasha a call as regularly as he could manage. Everything seemed comfortable and right by the time he was gone.

It wasn't terribly late, but after several drinks, another dose of meds, and the harsh last couple of days, Dean was ready to hit the hay.

"I think I might stay up awhile and do a little more research," Sam said. He had never finished his second drink so he was still fairly lucid and alert.

Dean didn't know how Sam could be so awake after getting barely no sleep the night before, but he knew better than to argue. "Your call, man," Dean said with a wave of his hand as he followed Sasha into the larger of the two bedrooms, "We leaving early? We don't really have a destination."

"Whenever we get up," Sam shrugged, settling himself on the couch with his laptop propped up on his lap, "Hopefully I'll have a destination for you in the morning. Might be something in Virginia I'm following up on. You guys go ahead."

Dean nodded. "Night, Sammy."

"Night, Sam," Sasha called behind him.

"Night."

They closed the door once they got inside and Sasha immediately started stripping down to his boxers. This of course distracted Dean so that he wasn't really being as careful as he should have been when he tried to lift his T-shirt over his head. "Ah! God damn it," he hissed, "Why do I always have to be the one to get shot?" More carefully this time, Dean pulled the shirt the rest of the way off since he had it basically half off anyway. He hissed again and looked at his bandages. At least they weren't bled through.

Sasha, perfectly free of injury, actually had the nerve to chuckle. "Well maybe if you stopped throwing yourself in harm's way," he grinned as he kicked off his jeans. He was wearing the all black boxer briefs. The ones that were almost too small.

Dean shook his head. "Fine then. If you want me to go back in time and not save Cam's life…"

"Dean. The bullets were lead."

"Well maybe they would have been iron if I hadn't jumped in front of him."

"That…doesn't make any sense," Sasha said, making a face.

"Sure it does. It's all probability," Dean shot back, taking off his own jeans to leave only his common navy shorts, "It's, ya know, how you'll look one place for something you've lost but it will be in those other place. But next time if you look in the second place first it will be in the first place."

Sasha was blinking at Dean when he looked over, hands on his slim, tattooed hips. "What?"

The perplexed face was really too adorable. "Forget about it," Dean half-laughed, crumbling on top of the bed but being careful this time not to jostle his shoulder. He lay on top of the covers and just stared up at the ceiling, enjoying the feeling of lying down. Sasha climbed on top of the bed next to him and did the same. The light was still on but they weren't really ready for sleep really.

So much had happened in so short a time if Dean really thought about it. He had only known Sasha for half a year and look where they were now. In bed. In love. Engaged, Dean thought with a mental laugh. God, that was ridiculous. But Dean allowed all of it. Day after day he kept letting Sasha in. He didn't want to turn the incubus away. He didn't want to have to leave him either.

And then there were all of the cases they had been through together. Sometimes Dean thought the hunts were getting harder as time moved on, each a little more difficult with more at stake, like some awful, morbid video game for real life. Sometimes it amazed him how many people they saved. But other times he kicked himself for the ones they failed. There was never any in between. Not for Dean Winchester.

"It was Leven, wasn't it," Sasha said suddenly, soft but certain.

Dean had expected one of them would figure that out eventually. He wondered if Sam already knew too. Dean turned his head to look at Sasha and there was no reprimand there, just that sort of blank slate Sasha managed so well. "I promised the kid," Dean said, not apologizing just saying, "He'll be beating himself up for years as it is."

The blank slate vanished, leaving a warm, tender smile. "Do you have any idea how sweet you are?" Sasha said.

"Depends. You have any idea what a freakin' sap you're being right now?"

Sasha punched him in the arm—the good one at least.

Then Dean remembered. "Shit, almost forgot. Speaking of sap…" Where had he put it? Dean sat up and surveyed his pile of discarded clothing. He was pretty sure he had put it in his wallet, so he got up and retrieved his jeans. He found the wallet easy enough and just as he had hoped, Lindsey's gift was in there. Dean smiled at Sasha's puzzled expression, still lying on the bed but propped up now. "From Lindsey," Dean said, handing Sasha the belated present, "He wanted me to give it to you to avoid the slobbering hug you would have put him through."

A laugh choked out of Sasha as he looked at what Dean had given him and a hand went up unconsciously to cover his mouth. His eyes were sparkling. "Oh my god…look at us," he said, gesturing Dean to come back to the bed. Of course Dean had already looked at the picture, but it was a different experience now that Sasha could look at it too. Dean climbed back onto the bed and they sat up next to each other as Sasha traced the figures in the photograph with his finger ghosting just above the gloss.

Sasha, Lindsey, and Cam had to have been fifteen still in the picture, or just sixteen maybe, looking much the way Dean remembered from the Animus house when he spied on Sasha's memory. It was hard to tell where they were since their faces took up most of the space, but it looked as though they were piled on top of each other, Sasha on the bottom with Lindsey and Cam sprawled over him and all their heads smushed together to fit in the shot. Their smiles were so big they were blinding. Dean wouldn't have believed Lindsey's mouth had that much give considering what he had seen so far.

"This was…god, it was…the night before they closed us off for the change," Sasha said, his hand still hovering by his mouth, "He was going to give us all copies…after…" Sasha smiled sadly. He didn't need to explain further than that.

"Maybe you can tape it to the inside of your journal or something?" Dean suggested. Sasha often referred to his father's old notes, but he had a journal of his own to keep a record of things.

"Yeah…" Sasha said absently. He was a million miles away. Or at least ten years. Dean waited patiently for Sasha to find his way back and when the incubus finally did it was with a huge smile thrown at Dean and wet blue eyes that shimmered. "Thanks. It's still kind of awkward with Lin, ya know, but…but at least I know he still remembers. It's a start." Carefully, Sasha set the picture on the nightstand nearest him.

Dean lay down again and tugged on Sasha's arm to bring the incubus down too. "Course he remembers. No one would wanna forget you. You're a looker and ya got brains. Not many of us around these days," Dean smirked.

A definite giggle left Sasha that time. "You know…you were really amazing yesterday," Sasha said, "I mean it. No sap. Just truth. You'll be a hero in Leven's eyes for the rest of his life for what you did. For today too. You gave him someone who could…relate better than just a sister. Some kids never find someone to be that for them."

Much as Dean liked the warm fuzzies Sasha was trying to smother him with, they tended to get in the way of other things. He wasn't looking to be a hero. Dean reached over and smoothed a few red strands from Sasha's forehead. "Team effort, baby," he said, "That's the way I like it. Way better than being a hero all by your lonesome."

"Definitely better," Sasha agreed, leaning closer so that their noses bumped and he giggled again, "That's why we gotta keep the team together…" Then he leaned that last bit further and their lips brushed, fleeting at first and then renewed, firm, seeking, until tongues met at last and tangled.

It always made Dan shudder when they kissed for the first time. It had been almost twenty-four hours since their last lip-lock. That just didn't seem right.

Dean hummed into the kiss as it lengthened. He was so tired, so worn and beaten down with sore spots all over his body, but kissing Sasha banished most of that into a dull, sleepy ache. He rolled towards Sasha onto his good side—he had to make sure he kept track of that and let his bad shoulder heal—and pulled Sasha's face closer with a hand on the redhead's cheek. Sasha's skin was so smooth, never having stubble. Dean figured it would look pretty funny if the incubus ever did have stubble considering it would be bright red. Then again he never really noticed the hairs on Sasha's arms and legs. He ran the hand on Sasha's face down his neck and shoulder and along his arm so that he could feel those hairs.

The bed was big enough so Dean kept rolling, pushing Sasha onto his back and climbing right up on top of his lover as he continued the deep, long, slow kisses. Oh yes, he was tired, but he never wanted to rush with Sasha. Quick and dirty had its merits but right now Dean wanted to savor. "You're beautiful," he whispered when he pulled back, his breath dusting the lips he had dampened.

Blue eyes sparkled up at Dean. "Right back at ya."

Dean grinned. He wanted something he hadn't been able to ask for. Tonight he felt like he finally could. Letting all of his weight press him down into Sasha's body, he brought his mouth to Sasha's ear and said, "Would you do something for me?"

"Of course," Sasha said just as softly back, "You even have to ask?"

Yes, Dean did have to ask with this. "I want…" Dean began, just enjoying the feeling of Sasha beneath him, warm and solid, "I want you to change for me."

Sasha jerked away enough that Dean realized he hadn't worded that quite right.

"Not change," he said quickly, pulling his head back up again and looking down at those confused blues. "I don't want you to change a thing. I mean change…into how you really are. All of you this time, not just the wings."

What Dean was really asking for dawned on Sasha slowly, and that realization revealed itself to Dean with a similarly slow grin. "You really are getting a fetish," Sasha teased.

Dean laughed to himself even though he knew his adoration had gone far beyond fetish. "I want to do things to your body that no one has ever had the privilege of. 'Cept for maybe the other five," he said distastefully, "And I really don't want to know which of them did what to you during the change, whatever little you remember. I just…I want you to know what you do to me…no matter which version I'm looking at."

The light in Sasha's eyes grew almost too bright as he stared up at Dean, his smile wholly loving now. Then suddenly the light was no longer bright and blue but that vibrant and glowing red. It always amazed Dean how Sasha could change like that so effortlessly, his body melting into its true form like lifting a veil to reveal the truth.

Dean sat up on Sasha's hips and just looked for a minute. Sasha's wings were spread out on the bed beneath him, large and glorious. Dean could see the jagged scar on Sasha's chest, faint but still visible from Gordon's attempt to kill the incubus. He couldn't help tracing it with his fingertips, the soft lines of it that others, maybe even Sasha himself, might think marred the otherwise perfect form, but for Dean it just made the picture complete. He realized suddenly that he was sitting on cloth not skin, and when he looked down he saw that the boxers hadn't faded into the glamour like usual.

"I want you to be able to take them off," Sasha chuckled, understanding Dean's look.

That got another laugh to bubble out of Dean as well. "I'll get there," he promised, already knowing where he wanted his attentions to focus first. The irony was not lost on him that he had a real obsession with Sasha's wings even though he generally hated flying. They were just so impressive, so truly supernatural and amazing, and Dean had the privilege of touching them.

Carefully, Dean attempted to shift Sasha more to the center of the bed and the incubus helped once he realized what Dean wanted. The bed was large, but still not so big that the wings didn't spill over the sides. Dean could touch almost all of them though right from where he was. He started at the inside of the wings right next to Sasha's chest. They were laid out beneath him they way they would be if they were spread out and open. Dean was pretty sure the inside of the wings was where they were most sensitive anyway, so he was glad they laid that way naturally.

His caress was gentle at first but he wanted to feel, really feel so he massaged deep into the tougher skin, eliciting an almost instant moan from Sasha. Dean spread his hand out over the entirely of Sasha's right wing—well, as much as he could reach without leaning too far off of Sasha's hips. The top of the wing was where the back curled up a bit, just a little tougher than the inside skin, surrounding the tendon-like stretch that gave the wings shape. Dean pressed his fingers there as well.

He repeated the whole process with the other wing, and it wasn't long before he noticed that something was pressing up into him from beneath Sasha's shorts. Dean scooted back to give the growing erection a little relief and Sasha sighed deeply.

Dean wanted to investigate the claws more, but he knew this was more dangerous territory. Sasha's claws were sharp talons. He couldn't quite suck on one of them the way he would a finger. But that didn't mean he couldn't come close.

Lifting one of Sasha's hands by the wrist, Dean marveled at how much larger they were like this. It was just after Sasha's elbow that the white skin began to fade black. The fade was quick, because at his wrist they were already pitch. Dean lifted the hand closer to his mouth and kissed Sasha on the wrist at his pulse point. He darted out his tongue and licked his way to Sasha's palm, then down the length of one long black talon, careful where it was especially sharp. Sasha shuddered beneath him.

Grinning at the effect he was having on his incubus, Dean leaned down fully on top of Sasha again so he could kiss Sasha deep as he had before and feel those fangs. They pricked his lips but never drew blood. He wondered how Sasha always managed that. Much as the incubus lost himself a lot of the time amidst Dean's caresses and teases, Dean knew that Sasha had far more self-control than he ever would.

"I wanna run my tongue…over every…bit…of your markings," Dean breathed against Sasha's lips. He knew his own eyes were hazy but Sasha's were fierce with lust.

The shorts had to go.

Dean hated that he had to roll off of Sasha to pull off his own shorts, but he knew it would be better to remove them at the same time as Sasha's or he'd end up ripping them apart when the time came. He tossed his shorts to the floor, not surprised to see that he was fairly hard too, and crawled between Sasha's legs to better slide the incubus' black shorts down his legs. Luckily, the fabric was stretchy, so although Dean had to really pull them around the clawed feet it wasn't enough to rip either side.

Sometimes Dean forgot the intricacies of Sasha's tattoos and all the places they coiled. The first tendrils started in the dip of his hip bones and then drew beautiful patterns down and around his skin to the inside of his thighs. The patter was the finest and smallest between Sasha's legs but that was the part Dean loved the most. He wanted to work his way there just as he had promised. Slowly.

Dean stayed right where he was between Sasha's legs. He pushed Sasha's legs up so that they were bent, leaving him more room, and then he tucked himself between them and leaned down so that he could start a wet trail at one side of Sasha's markings. He surprised Sasha by sucking in the skin and biting gently right where the left side's markings began, low on his hips. Sasha hissed in pleasure. Dean continued just like that, trailing with his tongue along the black lines and every so often biting and sucking on the tender skin. Sasha hissed every time and once almost like a whimper.

By the time Dean was down to Sasha's inner thigh, the incubus was more than ready for Dean to move a little more center. But Dean had better plans. "I said…over every…bit of them…" and Dean moved to the right side, starting all over again with a firm bite this time at the beginning tip of the markings there. It was torture for him too but he made the trip slower this time, knowing how crazed Sasha was by the way he began to tremble all over. The redhead's breaths were short, sharp gasps when Dean finally finished the other side.

There was definitely a whimper when Dean stopped, lifted his head, and looked at Sasha's face and the way his eyes were glazed. "Dean…" Sasha whined. Even his wings were twitching.

Dean wanted it too now, so badly, but he couldn't just pass this opportunity up. He wanted to run his hands everywhere too, and started by trailing the tips of his fingers down Sasha's thighs. Dean felt the scratches again, fainter and more healed now, almost gone. He dismissed them and moved on. Running his hands all the way down to Sasha's calves, Dean reached the spot where normal legs gave way to something more gargoyle or raptor like. The claws on Sasha's feet were just as sharp as the ones on his hands, so Dean had to be just as careful. It was also at that point that the white faded, quicker than his hands, black already before the calves gave way to ankle.

Then Dean moved up again, both hands together, all the way until they smoothed up Sasha's thighs and moved inward. Sasha mewled, pleading with noises of tortured pleasure. His wings rose for a moment and then flapped down again, demanding as they pushed a small breeze over Dean's skin.

Just a little more, Dean thought, continuing his perusal of Sasha's incubus body with his hands, skimming up his hips just far enough away from the prize to be cruel and further up Sasha's stomach and chest. At risk of giving in and just grinding himself against Sasha should he lie down, Dean managed to pull back. His hands left Sasha's completely as his mouth descended.

Sasha's renewed whimper was so small, so pitiful for a being that looked so stark and powerful when Dean's lips finally took him in at the tip, his tongue swiping over the large gathering of wetness that had formed. Sasha was still trembling, shuddering everywhere, and it only intensified as Dean's lips brought him in deeper, like Dean was sucking him down. Dean did, all the way to the back of his throat only to pull away again. Again, he had to think of the irony—what he was doing and how much he enjoyed it if only for what it did to his lover. But it wasn't only for that if Dean was really honest. He enjoyed it for himself, because he loved everything about the feel and taste of Sasha with his hands and lips and tongue.

Dean might have tried to continue his exquisite torture if not for the long pleading moan that finally left Sasha with another desperate "Dean…"

That utterance alone made Dean shiver as deeply as he had Sasha shivering. He wanted the incubus now and just like this, spread out before him beautifully as he truly was. First Dean climbed his way up Sasha's body, kissing a deep pathway to Sasha's lips, and then he kissed him deep as ever before, an act that Sasha welcomed and reciprocated with great fervor. Their bodies were aligned again and Sasha gave an insistent buck that ground their erections together.

Pulling away with a sharp gasp, Dean's patience shattered. He renewed their kiss, needing those lips and those dangerous fangs, but he reached down at the same time. He had to pull away eventually to really accomplish his goal, Sasha's body being so long, and one guiding finger was all it took before Sasha was begging again.

"Dean…" he said so pleadingly, "Hurry…please…"

Everything about Sasha saying that undid Dean. His mouth was so dry suddenly, barren and thirsty. He positioned himself swiftly, touched his tip to warm skin and pressed.

Sasha had been leaning up to look at Dean but as Dean pushed in Sasha's longer red hair tossed back and he threw his head to the pillow for leverage.

The red curtain of hair made Sasha look even more beautiful, Dean thought—radiant. And all of the things that made up that radiance were his. Sasha had declared that already, marking Dean as his as well. Dean had been with so many people, but he had never possessed anyone before, not the way Sasha had such a strong hold of him and how it was equally powerful the other way around. That's how Dean knew it was love. It couldn't be anything less supernatural than that.

Dean tried to keep his thrusts as slow as everything else had been, deep but languid, drawing every sensation out. Sasha was wound so tight that he couldn't wait to open the circuit and Dean felt it hit him like a strong wave that crashed over his body and made him gasp. God, he had never made Sasha feel like this, had he? It was all so new, so much stronger somehow. The circuit, the connection that tied them together…Dean didn't want it to end.

There were times when Dean was certain he didn't have a clue what he was doing. He thought Sasha would be better off with someone else, someone who wasn't going to leave him. But other times Dean was left only with what he felt right then, love, passion, the knowledge that everything he needed was just what he had—his brother at his side and his lover beneath him.

The two greatest loves of his life.

It was in those moments that everything was clear. Dean had had one such moment the morning they met Charis, when Sasha, wings wrapped around them, rocked Dean back against him and it was perfect. He felt it again now, the perfect clarity, knowing without an ounce of fear or doubt that this, right now, was exactly what he wanted. He wanted Sasha. He wanted to be with him.

Forever.

And in that perfect moment when everything made sense and Dean had everything he needed, the world suddenly lurched. Dean felt something almost like pain, more like pressure, fill his gut and pull. He felt it spread so quickly throughout his body that he didn't know what to do and couldn't call out, much as he wanted to. He felt it in his arms and down into his hands and fingers, a tightness, a throbbing, something. And when Dean pulled his hands from Sasha's body to look at them and see what was happening there was nothing that could have prepared him for what lay before his eyes.

They were his hands. His. But instead of the tanned skin that should be there, they were fading and changing shape into long. Black. Talons.

tbc...

A/N: MUWAHAHAHA! No seriously, there is no chance in HELL anyone could ever guess what is going to happen next. No chance. In fact I am so certain of this that if anyone does guess correctly there will be some astronomical prize involved that I will not even think about unless it actually happens. Do not worry, the conclusion to this arc will be up before the boys return to us next Thursday, soon as I can get it to you. All my love!

Crim