Part 5: The Real Bad Guy

You're not human…are you?

Everything moved too fast after that; Sasha reached out for Sam but Sam jumped back and raised his knife; Dean moved back as well, readying his gun; with nothing to hold onto and his balance thrown, Sasha fell to his knees and then forward, one hand on the floor to hold himself up while the other pressed to the wound.

The brothers barely heard the word, "Please," as Sasha fell, but then he looked up from his broken position and said it again, "Please…"

Dean was so angry he couldn't think straight. A cynical laugh left his lips before he could help it. "Please?" he repeated, "You're kidding, right?"

Sasha just stared up at him, his breathing shallow now and his shaking much more pronounced. He looked like he was in a lot of pain. Good, thought Dean, the bastard deserves it. Just when Dean thought he could trust another human being again, everything had to go to hell. Literally. Like a million other times before he hadn't been trusting a human at all.

"Forget what I said, Sammy," Dean growled towards his brother, "Just once I'd like things to go our way. Just once. But no, even when we know we're doing good some asshole demon makes sure it gets messed up."

"I'm not…a demon," Sasha managed. It was becoming difficult for him to speak.

Dean was in no mood to argue. "Whatever," he said, pumping the shotgun to ready it, "To think…all this time, you…" he shook his head. He knew he was too angry, that he wasn't thinking clearly at all, but he didn't care. All he wanted was to put a bullet in Sasha's heart and be done with it.

Therefore, why he hesitated, why he kept talking instead of just pulling the trigger, he couldn't explain. He didn't want to try and explain why he couldn't get his finger to move.

"Tell me," he said instead, almost shaking just as Sasha was, "Was it fun for you? Huh? Was it a game? Make the stupid hunters trust you, like you, and all the while you're sneaking behind our backs killing the girls we're trying to save!"

"No…" Sasha shook his head. The hand holding him up gave out and he fell fully to the floor. He tried to roll over so he could look the brothers in the eye, but only managed halfway, his body twisted, "No…it wasn't me. I swear…"

That mirthless laugh left Dean again. He didn't know why Sam was being so quiet, why Sam was just standing there, and frankly Dean didn't care. His attention was on Sasha. "Sorry, pal, but the evidence is a little against you," Dean said, not trying at all to hide his sarcasm.

"It…wasn't me," Sasha said again, looking in turn at Dean and Sam, his eyes entirely sincere and his face contorted with pain.

He was pitiable, but it could easily be a trick. The Winchesters had been fooled by less in the past; they would not be again.

"I don't…know…what she's after, but it…it wasn't me," Sasha insisted.

At these words, Sam spoke for the first time since realizing Sasha wasn't human. "She…?"

Sasha's body arched with a wave of pain, which at least managed to straighten his twisted form so he was on his back. His shirt was hiked enough to reveal the original wound and the spreading blue veins. Dean could even see them on Sasha's hands now, proving they had traveled their way down his arms.

Creatures allergic to iron died almost instantly if stabbed or shot in the heart. Sasha's wound was small and below the heart by several inches. Given time, however, it could still kill him, and probably quickly judging by the speed of those veins.

"Yes…" Sasha tried to explain, "It's…it's female. I…got here too late. Carol was…already dead. I…chased the succubus…out of the apartment. But she…got away. And when I…got back…you were already…here."

"Chased her out of the apartment? A succubus?" Dean's voice was acidic; he wasn't about to give Sasha the benefit of the doubt, not when Sasha's ability to lie to them had already been proven, "First off, if you had chased her out of the apartment, we would have seen you."

"Uh…Dean," Sam was pointing to the large kitchen window they now had partial view of. Dean saw the broken glass. That window led back out into the alley, where Dean and Sam wouldn't have been able to see anything. It would also explain why Sam saw movement in front of the main window on the way to the kitchen.

"That doesn't prove anything," Dean dismissed, "That could have been how he got in in the first place. And we didn't even get to number two," Dean added viciously, glaring down at Sasha with no signs of wavering, "Blaming a female sex vampire sure is convenient to keep you in the clear, but if you hadn't noticed our victim is a girl."

Pained as he was, Sasha looked right up at Dean and said as steady as he could, "What…Dean? Never heard of…alternative lifestyles?"

Now Dean was seething. They had caught Sasha red-handed, and not only was he trying to play off the innocent act, but he had the gall to joke around like they were still friends. "You're the bad guy!" Dean barked, stepping closer since he knew Sasha was in no condition to retaliate—the veins had reached his neck and were climbing ever higher, "We're not idiots. You're. Not. Human."

Sasha's body gave another shudder, another arch that raised his back off the floor. "You're…right. I am an incubus," he admitted, serious again as his voice grew more and more faded, "But I…I'm not the killer. You have…have to believe me."

The words, the sincerity in Sasha was so strong that both brothers had difficulty understanding what was happening when Sasha suddenly let out a cynical laugh that put Dean's to shame.

"Haha…but…but you won't…believe me…will you?" he said, and his eyes clenched tight against another wave of pain. The veins were all over his face now, making his eyes bloodshot and sickly, "Just another…monster. Why believe the…monster…" Sasha laughed again and Dean felt a shiver ripple up his body.

Something wasn't right here.

"Don't trust…hunters, Sasha…or you'll end up…just like mommy and daddy," Sasha laughed, speaking as if saying the words to no one, "I…I should have…listened…ha…I'm gonna…die…just like them…"

And suddenly it wasn't so funny. All the color left Sasha's face. His time was draining and he could feel it, he knew it. Sam and Dean wondered if the iron was affecting his brain. It certainly seemed that way, because now…now Sasha was crying.

"We don't fall in love…that often, you know," he was saying, and he wasn't looking at Sam or Dean, but they thought he might mean the words for them anyway, "My mother…was a succubus, and…she went and fell in love with a hunter. He didn't care…what she was. He became one of us…to be with her. When he wanted…to keep hunting…she said…sure. But his…friend…wasn't as accepting. All that man saw…were monsters…even among people…he could have…trusted…"

"Sasha…" There was the 'I'm here for you' look, and Dean was so confused, because he didn't mind it at all.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

Hearing Sam's voice seemed to clear Sasha's mind, and he blinked up at the brothers as if he had forgotten they were there. "The victims," he said, suddenly urgent, "We were so…stupid. We are idiots. I knew it…wasn't an incubus. I would have…sensed him. All those questions we asked. Meryl should have…been the tipoff. It was…obvious, but I couldn't…couldn't figure it out."

Meryl? The gears in Dean's head started to turn. Meryl was the victim before Carol, the one who worked at the gay bar, the one…who the bartender had indicated didn't have much preference concerning gender.

They weren't looking for a girl, they were looking for a damn incubus. What did he care if the victim swung both ways?

Shit. Dean looked over at Sam, who had dropped his weapon long ago. He could see it in Sam's eyes that the same gears were spinning and coming together. Meryl was the obvious case, with the others the fault had simply been theirs.

Was she seeing anyone? Someone new in her life? Any new flings? All of their questions had been ambiguous, and therefore so were the answers. They hadn't thought to be more specific. After Dean's fumbling at the Gay 90s asking if there was a new guy, they had automatically started using more gender neutral terms. Damn political correctness. Maybe they still would have missed the signs, but being blunt about things might have saved Carol's life.

And it also meant something else.

Sam looked over at Dean and their gazes locked. Nothing needed to be said. Sasha was right. They were idiots. The next second Sam and Dean where on the floor at Sasha's side, knife and gun forgotten.

"What do we do?"

"How do we help you?"

Sasha wasn't shaking as much anymore, which could only be a bad sign. The veins were everywhere, meaning the poison of the iron had seeped into every part of Sasha's body. Looking up at the brothers who were so much closer to him now, Sasha blinked several times before saying, "You're…helping me?"

The iron was definitely playing with Sasha's mind; he sounded like a child, scared and disbelieving. "Yes," said Sam, big smile and all his sincerity pouring out of those damn puppy eyes.

Dean was the one who felt stupid and out of place with this. He understood now why Sam had been so quiet, why Sam hadn't acted. Sam knew something was wrong from the beginning, he knew there had to be more to it then Sasha being the bad guy. But Dean had been so angry he hadn't been able to imagine anything but betrayal.

Not that it didn't freak him out a little that Sasha was an incubus. It certainly explained a few things. But if Dean could accept his freak of a brother then Sasha was just another freak to add to the list.

So Dean managed a smile too and said, "I can be wrong. It's been known to happen. Besides…you're our pal, right?"

Faded as he was, Sasha managed a smile of his own. "Yeah…I'd like…to be," he said, still so eerily childlike.

"Then we have to hurry or there won't be much of you to befriend." Dean looked around the dark apartment, having absolutely no idea what they could use to flush the iron from Sasha's system. It's not like they could take him to the hospital to have his stomach pumped. Then Dean wondered, "Hey, Sasha," he said, shaking Sasha's shoulders lightly because those bloodshot blue eyes had started to close, "Hey, do you keep some kind of, I don't know, antidote or something. I mean, you're a hunter. Iron's part of the life."

To Dean and Sam's mutual relief, Sasha gave a slow nod. His head lolled from side to side as if he was trying to look around. "My…bag…" he said.

Sam was on his feet in an instant. He found Sasha's bag by the broken kitchen window, a small knapsack where Sasha kept an iron knife of all things, his EMF meter when not tucked in his coat, a few random other essentials, and a small vial of green liquid.

Sasha nodded at the vial when Sam held it close to his face. He was fading fast.

"Sasha, do we just pour it on the wound?" Sam asked, screwing off the top.

At first there was no answer, and Dean had to shake Sasha again to get him alert. "There…are two…p-places," Sasha explained. Dean leaned down close to Sasha's face to better hear him since his voice had fallen to a trembling whisper, "F-First…on the wound…and…a-and then…then—" Sasha cringed, his eyes closed tight against yet another wave of pain. His body shook with a convulsion that finally left him unconscious.

"Sasha…" Dean prompted, shaking their friend yet again, "Sasha!" Another shake. Two. Three. It did nothing to wake him.

There wasn't time. Dean grabbed the open vial out of his brother's hand and poured half of it onto the wound. It fizzled like acid, but instead of eating the skin, it indeed healed it, at least the wound and the immediate presence of blue veins. But it didn't spread far. The poison was too imbedded.

Think. Think. Sam was silent beside Dean. There wasn't time to consider a thousand possibilities to waste what little antidote they had. So Dean did the one thing that made sense to him. He took the rest of the liquid in the vial and poured it down Sasha's throat.

"Dean!" Sam called out, since Dean had not counseled with him before making that rash decision.

Dean didn't care if he had acted foolishly. It was act or lose, something he had learned a long time ago. And thankfully, it had steered him correctly yet again.

As the antidote streamed through Sasha's system, they could see it moving beneath his skin. At first it spread unnaturally fast, giving Sasha's skin a green glow, and then suddenly it was like a chemical reaction, shooting green fire through all of those blue veins and forcing Sasha's body to arch up off the ground. Sasha's eyes sprang open then, flashing a vibrant red, not mottled like the she-demon who bartered for Dean's soul—thank goodness—but a pure red with slit black pupils like a cat. The brothers believed without reservation that they had seen Sasha's true eyes in that moment, but just as quickly it was over, and brilliant blue returned. So too returned Sasha's normal, unmarred skin and even breathing.

Blinking dazedly up at Dean, who was leaning over Sasha the most, the healed incubus managed a very weary smile. "You guessed…right," he said breathily.

Dean returned the grin and leaned back to give Sasha more air. "Hey, I didn't see Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade fifty-seven times for nothing," he said.

That was rewarded with a somewhat choked laugh from Sasha, but Dean knew the joke had been well taken. Of course in the Indy movie Harrison Ford poured the water from the Holy Grail down Sean Connery's throat first and then on the wound, but Dean figured the same would work in reverse.

Sam shook his head at the pair as Dean carefully helped Sasha into a sitting position, but he too was smiling. One of the night's mistakes had been amended, and for that Sam and Dean could both be thankful. Other hunters might have let Sasha die, even after realizing their mistake, but an incubus is not evil by nature, and Sasha had been nothing but good to them. Besides, these days the brothers couldn't afford to turn their backs on fellow freaks.

After giving Sasha a moment to collect himself and find his breath again, Sam and Dean helped their hunter and now incubus friend to his feet. They realized that with the unfortunately dead girl in the bedroom, they probably should be wiping the place down and getting out of there as quickly as possible.

"So you're saying this EMF, pheromone detector thing is bogus?" Dean was holding Sasha's scanner upside down in one hand, inspecting it like a kid with his first computer.

"Not exactly," Sasha explained, watching with perhaps mild trepidation at Dean's handling of his property.

Dean, Sasha, and Sam were sitting at the little table in Sam and Dean's hotel room. They had left an anonymous tip from a payphone after leaving Carol's apartment, doing as much as they could for her until they found the real killer and brought her to justice.

A few choice items of Sasha's were—or had been until Dean picked them up—on the table. There was the now empty vial along with a dozen still filled ones with green liquid, a few photographs of Sasha's parents—one before Deklin Kelly became an incubus, one after, and one with the whole family after Sasha was born, which also included Sasha's succubus aunt Shiarra—and of course, the scanner.

With a polite smile, Sasha took the scanner back from Dean. "It still works as an EMF meter, and I did set it up to scan for some creature pheromones, but not for my kind. That would be pretty pointless."

"You can pick them up yourself," Sam said, another one of his not-questions he just had to speak aloud, even though everyone at the table had already figured that out.

Sasha nodded.

"Man," Dean said, "Should have guessed that earlier tonight." He looked at Sasha across the table and pointed a knowing finger. "I was watching when you first saw Carol. It wasn't until after you noticed her and decided she was the next victim that you looked at the scanner. Should have got that right off."

"Well, you know what they say," Sasha shrugged.

"People see what they want to see," Sam finished.

Dean could certainly agree with that.

Staring at the photographs on the table, Sam reached over and spread them out to be more visible. He set the ones of just Sasha's parents side by side to compare the difference in Deklin Kelly. It was more than striking.

"I can't believe it's the same man," Sam said, passing his gaze back and forth between the photos, "I mean, in the first one he could be…in his forties."

"Forty-six actually," Sasha supplied.

Dean let out a whistle. He pulled the second photograph closer to him and looked at the change in Sasha's father. Sasha had said the time between the photographs was only a few months. "Forty-six. And here he looks younger than me. Didn't realize being an incubus was a fountain of youth."

Accepting the picture as Dean passed it over to him, Sasha stared down at the familiar image. "It kind of is," he said, "If you're born an incubus you age like any human until your twenty-fifth birthday. If you're initiated as one and already older, you return to that age. So really, in this picture he is younger than you, Dean."

Dean took the picture back and then looked over at the first one again. Deklin Kelly at forty-six was still a handsome man, but as a twenty-five-year-old incubus he was up there with the cover of GQ. Sam and Dean had never known what Deklin Kelly looked like before, but Dean could admit when another man looked good, especially in the picture where he was older and had managed to age well despite living the life of a hunter. In that picture Deklin's hair was shoulder-length and dark, but had some liberal dusting of grey. His eyes were blue, but not as blue as Sasha's. He was scruffy and wore an old trench coat, fitting well the image Dean had always conjured of the great hunter.

Looking at the second photograph again where Deklin looked twenty-five, it was hard to believe the time between pictures was mere months. The grey in Deklin's hair was gone, his face clean-shaven, his wardrobe still hunter-appropriate but more young and attractive with a new leather jacket. Of course, Sasha's mother looked exactly the same in both pictures, save her clothing.

Now that was a woman worth looking at, thought Dean. He doubted he had ever come across a girl that pretty in real life.

"Talk about hot mama," he said before he could help it.

"Dean!" The reprimand was naturally from Sam.

Sasha just laughed.

"What?" Dean said, mustering a look of innocent interest, "Just being honest." He glanced up at Sasha. "I see you weren't lying about the hair," he said.

Indeed, Sasha's mother had the same fire engine red hair as Sasha, only hers fell well past her shoulders. It was also clear that the brilliance of Sasha's blue eyes came from her, though Deklin's had picked up more brilliance after his initiation, so really, it probably didn't matter where Sasha's eyes came from.

And after all, those blue eyes were only a disguise. The brothers had seen a moment of the real thing, and they were as red as Sasha's hair.

Sasha was still grinning over the comment about his natural coloring, and just had to give Dean a sidelong glance as he said, "You know, that offer for proof's still open."

"Ha…" Dean averted his eyes back to the image of Sasha's mother, but his now patented uncomfortable laugh fell from his lips anyway. "I'll, uh…take your word and your mother's locks as...proof enough, thanks," he said.

The grin on Sasha's face spread a little wider, but he didn't press the issue.

To be honest it made Dean feel a lot better about things with Sasha acting…well, normal. It meant they were okay. It meant Sasha didn't hold any resentment over Dean's zeal for blaming him as the killer. For that Dean could only be grateful. He liked Sasha. Being able to still count Sasha among the few decent people in the world meant a lot to Dean, even if Sasha wasn't human.

"So this is your aunt?" Sam asked, indicating the other woman in the family photo. She looked remarkably like Sasha's mother, only her hair was black.

"Yeah, Aunt Shi raised me after my parent's death," Sasha said, pronouncing the name like'shy', "She's my mother's older sister so she's always been a little protective. She was supportive when my mother and father wanted to be together, but she's never really forgiven hunters for what happened to them. She would never attack a hunter or seek one out, but…she wasn't too thrilled when I said I wanted to follow in Dad's footsteps. Or when I said I was teaming up with some on this case."

"You told her about us?" Dean felt both a slight violation of trust and a swell of pride over that.

The night had already come with several surprises, but the last thing the Winchesters expected from their companion was uncomfortable squirming. "Uh…she, uh…sort of keep tabs on me. You know…calls, and…expects calls, and…occasionally shows up when I'm on a case to drive me absolutely insane because she can't accept that I actually know what I'm doing. So…if I don't tell her what's going on, she'll show up. And you do not want that to happen. She's great! She's just…such a mom, you know?"

Sour smiles took form on both brothers' faces. There was really nothing to say to that.

Sasha realized too late his mistake, so when it dawned on him, he squirmed that much more. "God, what an idiot," he said, "You'd think I'd be quicker on the uptake, huh. Sorry."

"It's okay," Sam said quickly. He was the one whose only memories of their mother came from the time he saw her ghost in their old house.

Dean was the one who knew how to miss her. "I'd be willing to bet we know just what you mean actually, only on the other side of things," Dean said, shaking off the unintentional comment, "Dad was a tight-ass like no other, especially where it came to keeping me and Sam in line. I'd imagine it's the same with your aunt. Bark's worse than their bite most of the time. They just wanna look out for us."

It was no secret between the brothers that Dean meant this comment for Sam as well. Dean had been forced to take over the parental role, and he would live up to it until the day he died, even if that really was less than a year from now.

Somber as the mood had become, Sasha was already smiling again.

"Bark's worse than their bite, huh?" he grinned, "Only mine's actually got fangs. Once in a while, anyway." Sasha chuckled a little, and then chuckled even more when Dean stared down at the family photo like he must be seeing it wrong. "Photographs don't always capture the truth, Dean. We can look human, but we're not. Fangs is the least of the difference."

The way Sasha said all that seemed off-handed, just a passing comment, but Dean couldn't help being curious now. He and Sam had seen those red eyes, and now he knew there were fangs. He just had to ask, "What exactly do you look like?"

Sasha laughed again. Dean almost expected another "Wouldn't you like to know," like he had received when asking about Sasha's below-the-waist tattoo, but instead Sasha just gave a small shrug and said, "Believe me, by the time we finish this hunt, I'm sure you'll find out." And then he was getting up from the table. "We should get some rest," he said, but before he could move too far, his legs gave out from under him and he nearly fell straight to the floor, saved only by Sam's quick reflexes to help steady him.

"Are you going to be okay?" Sam asked, more concerned than he probably needed to be since he knew it was because of him that Sasha was less than healthy right now.

Sasha allowed Sam to help him regain his balance, but he maintained his usual grin. "I'm fine. I'll be better in the morning. Don't beat yourself up about it," he said, understanding that Sam felt responsible, but not blaming him at all, "As long as I feed a little tonight I'll be back in tip-top shape by sunrise," he added.

This comment made Dean feel a little queasy, and he knew Sam was right there with him by the worried glance that passed between them.

It would have been impossible for Sasha to miss the silent exchange. "Hey, don't look so freaked. I'm not about to jump either one of you, okay," he said with a half-laugh to better ease the tension.

Dean wasn't sure if he felt better or not.

"Really," Sasha was saying, "It's okay."

"But…" There was a crease in Sam's brow that proved he was trying to voice his dissention without stepping on anyone's toes—namely Sasha's. "It's just…don't you usually need a week, you said, to…mark someone?"

Sasha's grin changed a little, becoming more pacifying and subtle, "That's preference not a necessity. And I didn't say anything about sex. Just feeding."

Now Sam and Dean were thoroughly confused. They hadn't discussed any incubus details since discovering Sasha was one, so all the Winchesters knew about them were what they knew before now. And as far as they knew an incubus fed off of sexual energy during sex with their victims.

"There's more than one way to get sexual energy," Sasha said, as if answering the brothers' thoughts aloud, "I don't need a partner, just thin walls and a few amorous couples."

A sideways smirk took hold of Dean's expression then. He had been thinking Sasha was going to say something about 'private time' for other ways of getting sexual energy, but then that wouldn't make much sense since it would just be an incubus' own energy diverted back to him.

This was much more interesting.

"Are you saying all you have to do is walk the hallways of the hotel until you find a couple having sex in one of the rooms, and then just…sit back and enjoy?"

"That about sums it up," Sasha smiled.

"But I thought…" Sam didn't know how to word his feelings and he looked completely perplexed, which was always a goofy look if Dean had ever seen one, "I thought…well, don't you need sex?"

Dean tried not to giggle at how funny Sam sounded saying that.

Sasha, entirely patient and understanding, said, "We do. I do. Once a month at least. Once a week is better—"

"I hear that," Dean cut in—really, he couldn't help it.

"But," Sasha continued, acknowledging the comment with a sideways grin of his own, "I can get by from hotel runs. There's always a few people having sex. I just need the natural sexual energy given off, and that has a pretty good half-life. Being outside the door is almost as good as being in the room. Real sex is a necessity, yes, but not everyday. I'm a hunter. That isn't always an option."

Dean hated to admit that was true. Ever since coming to terms with his crossroads deal, he had been trying to keep that option open as often as possible.

"So," Sasha said, looking maybe slightly nervous as he moved his gaze between Sam and Dean, "You trust me enough to let me wander the halls a little, right? It would really suck if we found the succubus finally and I was only at half-strength. She moved fast. She's probably pretty old. Experienced. It's hard for an incubus and succubus to sense each other, that's why I kept thinking it couldn't be an incubus, but she felt me coming, I'm sure of it."

"Wait," Dean said, holding up a hand to make sure he got this comment in, "You can sense males but you can't sense females?"

Sasha shrugged, "We can, but it's harder. Like we're on different frequencies, or something."

"Heh," Dean chuckled, "That's men and women for ya."

The comment was definitely laugh-worthy, but nobody laughed. Sam and Sasha were staring hard at each other and Dean had the strangest feeling that they were communicating with their brains. He was pretty sure the messages were not matching up.

Therefore, there was really nothing else for Dean to do. "Let's go then," he said, grabbing Sasha by the arm and leading him towards the door.

"Dean," Sam started, but didn't have anything to finish with.

Dean just looked back over his shoulder and gave Sam a nod. "We trust each other but there's weirdness. I go with Sasha to prove he's not a psycho killer—weirdness over. Sound good to you, Sammy?"

"Dean," only this time it was Sasha, sounding softer of voice than usual, "I appreciate this, but…if it really makes you guys uncomfortable…maybe I can—"

"What?" Dean interrupted, looking Sasha square in the eyes, "Starve for the next week so you can stumble and get in the way when we finally track this broad down? I don't think so. Sam's cautious. I'm curious. Let's go." Dean pulled Sasha along after him and reached for the door knob.

"Dean." It was Sam again.

Having had enough of just about everything, Dean snapped back, "What? We trusting each other or not, Sammy? Coz I'm inclined to believe the guy whose life we just saved, after nearly killing him I might add, and who probably could have gotten the jump on us any number of times this week. Okay?"

Sam just stared back at Dean with a look of completely unwarranted shame. "I was just going to say…that I'll probably still be up when you get back. I want to do some research before calling it a night."

"Oh," Of course Dean felt like a complete jackass, but he wasn't about to say so, "Right. You do that. We'll be roaming," And with that Dean hauled Sasha the rest of the way out of the room and into the hallway.

It wasn't that Dean was really that anxious to see Sasha stand in a hallway drinking in invisible sexual energy. He just really wanted to get out of that room. He knew what Sam was going to be researching, much as it annoyed him. It certainly wouldn't be about the easiest ways to catch a succubus even if you have an incubus helping you, that's for sure.

Dean wasn't an idiot. He knew Sam had been spending all of his spare time working on ways to get Dean off the hook with his deal. Dean had told Sam it was no use, that any attempt to mess with the deal would end it—and therefore end Sam too. And Dean wouldn't allow that. He couldn't.

"Dean…are you okay?"

Right. Reality. Dean snapped back to it and looked up at Sasha with the best grin he could muster. "Fine. Now let's go find you some sex."

Sasha didn't bring up the reason Dean was so eager to be out of the room, but Dean had a pretty good idea that his incubus friend knew it had something to do with Sam's research. Sasha was always pretty perceptive that way, and with when—and when not—to bring issues up. Dean wondered if that was a particularly enhanced incubus skill, and almost asked. But then Sasha spoke up first.

"We're close," he said, pointing down the hallway of the second floor, which was a couple floors down from where they were staying, "Must be one of the rooms at the end."

Sasha was leading Dean through the hotel in search of occupants having sex. Oh, Dean knew how weird that sounded, how weird that was, but he was an all-hands-in kind of guy, and if he was going to accept Sasha as an incubus then he had to accept everything. Even feeding time.

"Here," Sasha said, stopping in front of room 211 and placing his right palm flat against the door. He closed his eyes a moment and then smiled, turning so he could rest his back against the door.

The look on Sasha's face was pure bliss, and Dean was pretty sure he should be creeped out by the whole thing. He wasn't though. It wasn't as if Sasha was breathing heavy or moaning or anything like that. He was just leaning against the door, eyes closed, taking in…whatever he was taking in. Nothing seemed to be happening to his body at all.

Dean didn't know what he expected, but damn, if Sasha was soaking up sexual energy right now, wouldn't that have to make his body react?

"So…you just have to stand there?" Dean prompted, softly because they didn't need any extra attention, and because he wasn't entirely sure if it was appropriate to speak to Sasha while he…fed.

Blue eyes flicked open but remained heavy-lidded as Sasha replied, "That's what I told you. I basically just…open up, like…flipping a switch or turning on a current."

But your body looks normal, Dean wanted to say. He still couldn't bring himself to ask about that though. "So…" he started again, since Sasha didn't seem to mind him asking questions, "Can you...mentally see what they're doing in there?" Dean smirked a little at the thought. Talk about free porn.

A mirrored smirk appeared on Sasha's face. "It's not like that. It's about feeling. I feel their…passion. I can tell when they go faster or slow down, when they're reaching the end or just getting warmed up, even how much they really love each other while they're together. But I can't tell you who's touching what or putting what where, sorry to say. You'll have to stick with cable access for that."

Dean barked a laugh, but then stifled it quickly remembering that it was well past midnight and they were in a public place. If someone did come down the hallway, they could just pretend to be guests out and about, or maybe guests who finally got in from their night out. It wouldn't be suspicious at all. Not with Sasha just…standing there.

He wasn't even sweaty. He looked like someone listening to relaxing music, not someone feeding off of the very essence of sex. Dean didn't get it.

Well, since he had managed pretty well with the first few questions, he figured he could risk a little more. "I gotta ask," he began, but Sasha finished for him.

"Why aren't I hard as a rock by now?"

There was Dean's uncomfortable laugh again. Only Sasha could bring it out of him so easily. "Uh…well, yeah," Dean finally admitted, "You're not human, fine, but you still...function like a guy, don't ya?"

"Oh, I'm fully functional," Sasha grinned, knowing full well how much he made Dean squirm by saying that, "It's just not necessary with this. When I'm feeding from actual sex, sure, all systems go, like any other guy. But this is…mental. It's different. There's a current either way, but right now that current stops at me. Do you get it?"

"I think so," Dean nodded, feeling surprisingly comfortable with the whole thing. It made him really curious about what it felt like, just soaking in what the couple in the room was doing. It didn't make Sasha's body react, but did it still feel like…sex?

The look on Dean's face must have given him away, or Sasha really was just that good at reading people, because the next thing he said was, "You wanna know what it feels like?"

If Dean hadn't been leaning against the opposing wall, he probably would have fallen to the floor. "Uh…"

"Head out of the gutter, Winchester," Sasha said, raising a hand towards Dean in invitation, "All you have to do is touch my hand…and you complete the circuit."

Now Dean was sure Sasha was messing with him. He couldn't be serious. "No thanks," Dean said, "But I'd rather not help give you a boner if it's all the same."

Hardly unexpected, Sasha gave a hearty laugh at that comment. "No, Dean," he said, "This is a different circuit. It's coming from them. You'll just feel what I'm feeling. It won't do anything to me. Go ahead." Sasha was completely calm in his insistence, so Dean knew that if he really did refuse, there would be nothing lost, nothing gained.

And damn if he wasn't curious. He stared at the offered hand and then glanced down both ends of the hallway as if the sight of some sudden passerby would make his decision for him.

There was no one in the hallway but them.

Dean returned his eyes to Sasha and said, "This isn't a trick, right?"

"No trick. Just an offer. You won't hurt my feelings if you say no," he added, reaffirming Dean's earlier assumption.

Well, if Dean really thought about it all he would be doing is tapping into the frequency Sasha was picking up, so he too would feel the sexual energy coming from the couple on the other side of the door. It kind of was like cable, only free and without the messy cleanup.

Dean knew he might regret it later, but he still reached out to take Sasha's offered hand.

The reaction time was immediate. As soon as Dean's hand took hold of Sasha's, as soon as their skin touched, Dean was right there on the brink, no build-up, just heat, raw heat pooling low in his stomach, like every nerve in his body was alive. His breath hitched as the feeling continued to pour into him, constant, like living that moment right before climax over and over again. How the hell did Sasha not react to this?

It was so intense, so overpowering that Dean couldn't stay on his feet. He had no support other than Sasha's hand, and that was only the barest touch. Before he could help it he started to sway. Sasha saw what was happening and knew to catch him, but that was the mistake. Dean guessed it was instinct on Sasha's part, and that otherwise Sasha never would have done it, but by grabbing Dean securely by both shoulders to steady him, something went wrong. All those hot, pulsing feelings surged through Dean like fire, and the next thing he knew he was on the floor, looking up into Sasha's worried face.

"What…was that?" Dean managed, caught off guard by how strangely ragged his voice sounded.

Sasha was leaning over him, looking extremely guilty. "Oh god, Dean, I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking. When you started to fall I just…" he shook his head, "Touching your hand is one thing. But when I grabbed you, all of my attention was on you. I probably forced about three thousand volts of raw sexual energy through your body back there. I am so sorry."

In a different world Dean might have considered it ridiculous to apologize for something like that, except that he probably needed to change his shorts, and he did feel significantly more uncomfortable with the situation as time moved on. The initial dismissive-ness he felt seemed to be a side-effect, because now that he was back to his own senses, he was starting to realize just how embarrassing this was.

Strangely though he didn't feel like he had just experienced a waking wet-dream, and indeed when he glanced down his body, he saw no sign of awkward stains or a raging hard-on. It really had been all in his mind. He might actually think that was cool if he wasn't so mortified.

"Dean?"

"I'm good. I'm just…gonna lay here a minute," he said, setting his head back on the carpet and letting his pulse return to normal.

Sasha's expression was about as humiliated as Dean's, which actually made Dean feel a little bit better. "I swear I didn't mean for that to happen, Dean," Sasha insisted.

"I know," Dean said, and he really did believe it, "If you really wanted to get me on the floor, you'd be doing something about it," he added with a laugh. Then, realizing that joking around about things like that right now was only making things worse, he started to sit up. "Uh…maybe I do want to get off the floor."

This time it was Sasha who laughed, "Here," he said, offering Dean a hand.

Dean stared at it like the damn thing must be infected with the Ebola virus or some other horrible form of plague.

"It's safe," Sasha smiled, "I severed the link. I promise it's just a hand."

Right. After tonight, Dean would never consider any part of Sasha to be just anything. But no matter how he looked at it, he knew he could trust Sasha and he took the hand anyway. As he expected all that happened this time was Sasha lifting him from the ground.

"You sure you're okay?" Sasha asked.

He was standing very close to Dean after helping him off the floor and something about that kind of proximity with another person right now, especially another person who happened to be responsible for the most accidentally erotic moment of Dean's life, made Dean feel a little…twitchy.

He had to get out of there.

"Yeah…really, I'm…uh…fine. So…I think I need to be…gone. You're good here, right?" Dean started to back away. "Consider trust issues covered. I'll…see ya later." And as he finished his ramblings, he made a sharp turn on his heels and headed down one of the hallways. He wasn't exactly sure if it was the one they came from, but he knew somewhere in the direction he was going there had to be a way back up.

"Dean!" Sasha called after him, sounding understandably concerned.

"I'm good! Need se—sleep! See you in the morning!" Dean said as he increased his speed down the hallway. He heard another call from behind him but didn't even bother acknowledging it this time. That was more than Dean ever needed to know about an incubus—up close and…way too personal.

Which is why he really didn't understand his motives for telling Sam about it. Okay, so Sam started barraging him with questions the moment he returned to the room, but Dean had initially ignored him and gone to the bathroom for a quick—and very cold—shower. When he returned, sure Sam started barraging him again, and yeah, he told Sam the things he had found out about how an incubus feeds and that Sasha is definitely on the level. But really, Dean could have left it there. He didn't need to tell Sam about touching Sasha's hand and sharing the feeding experience. He didn't need to say anything.

But for some reason that Dean couldn't quite understand, he told Sam everything.

"And all you did was touch his hand?"

"Yep."

"And when he grabbed you to keep you from falling it was like…"

"Bam," Dean supplied, slapping his hands together, "Dean, down for the count."

Sam blinked at him with an amazed and very wide expression. "And it was all…sexual?"

Normally, Dean would have laughed at Sam's expression and the way he said that, but tonight it was all too serious. "That doesn't even do it justice," he emphasized. They were in mirrored positions, sitting across from each other on the edge of their beds. It was strange but Dean felt really good about this, relieved really, because it was something he just had to get off his chest. "This was like…sex-concentrate," he said.

At first, Sam opened his mouth to say something, but his mind must have been playing several images that Sam did not want to think about, because he suddenly went very red. Then, out of nowhere, he burst out laughing.

"Dude, what is with you?" Dean prompted, staring at Sam like his brother must have lost his mind to change moods so quickly. At least Sam wasn't reprimanding him, but that didn't mean Dean enjoyed being laughed at.

After some time, Sam finally returned his attention to Dean, but had significant trouble speaking through his laughter. "Dean…" he tried, "You…you and Sasha had like…crazy incubus mind sex!" And he threw back his head and laughed harder.

This just dawned on Sam now?

No, Dean did not agree with that statement. That is not what happened. It wasn't something between Sasha and Dean, they were just part of the current from the couple in the bedroom. It was not incubus mind sex!

He said this very vehemently to Sam and considered the matter closed.

The brothers got comfortable in bed and prepared to finally get some rest, but after a few dangerously silent minutes had passed, Dean heard a distinct mumble of "crazy incubus mind sex" from Sam's bed. Such treachery was not worth commenting on, Dean decided. But it was definitely worth a pillow to the face.

tbc...

A/N: Woot, was that a doozie. Thanks for sticking with me. This arc shall have two more parts to it, but after that I plan to continue with the boys into more stories. Thanks again!

Crim