Part 3: Partners

There was a ball of warmth in Dean's stomach that seemed to fill every part of him as he slept. Sasha's arms around him, Sasha's even breathing against his neck, Sasha's too soft skin touching him in more places than should be possible without turning uncomfortable. It was still winter. Sort of. Dean liked the extra warmth. He liked the feeling of being encased, being…safe. He wouldn't admit that of course; he was the protector in this family, damn it. He doubted he would ever get that point across to the other two though.

It was only when that warmth was gone that Dean actually started to wake up, a cold spot growing behind him that made the glow in his stomach fade too. He was on the edge of waking, just about to open his eyes when he felt some of that heat return. There was pressure on the bed as it shifted with the weight of a second body, the covers lifting to let in cool air for a moment, and then fingers were padding lightly up Dean's thigh like tiptoes. He grinned in his half-sleep and something stirred inside of him making that ball of warmth grow hotter again.

"Can't get enough of me, eh, baby?" Dean sighed. His breath hitched as those fingers became the whole of one large, soft-skinned hand that gripped his hip and started to move inward. Dean smiled and rolled more fully onto his back to both allow that hand better access and to look at the person beside him. He opened his eyes and met the sobering sight of red on black.

"Good morning, Dean," Malak smirked.

"Holy fucking Christ!" Dean sputtered, the actual scream of it getting choked off somewhere because of how off guard he was. He clutched instinctively at the covers and scrunched his body as far into the other corner of the bed as he could. He would have gotten up but he didn't want to risk losing the sheets. He was buck naked for crying out loud and a fucking demon was in his bed!

Malak was spread out comfortably on top of the covers, his previously treacherous and hidden hand slithering back out from underneath them to rest casually in his lap. His. He. This was the male version, which for some reason just pissed Dean off more at the bedroom antics. He was wearing the same black suit and shirt with a red tie, his blonde hair neat but not too short, and his eyes that horrible red on black like a demon snake.

Typically, that insufferable smirk remained, Malak looking just so damn pleased with himself. It infuriated Dean because as much as he may 'belong' to Malak he was not a fucking toy.

"Hmm," Malak hummed thoughtfully as if he was thinking over Dean's harsh response, "Not the most accurate description of me," he said, clearly referring to the 'holy fucking Christ' bit. Very funny.

Dean was all set to throw out some nasty comment when it suddenly hit him that Malak was in bed with him. Which meant Sasha wasn't. He imagined his eyes grew into panicked saucers, the sheets becoming gnarled and tangled in his wringing hands as he fought for words.

"He's fine," Malak said with a dismissive roll of his eyes and then nodded to the other side of the room, "In the bathroom. I haven't touched him, I can assure you."

Relief washed through Dean immediately; he could see the bathroom light on from underneath the door, assuming Malak wasn't lying. "Right. Haven't touched him. Wish you could say the same about me," Dean grumbled. His thigh and hip, and a couple areas a little too close to home, still burned a little hotter than the rest of him. "What do you want this time, other than to make my life a living Hell before you whisk me away to the real one? I could have sworn you said you probably wouldn't even come when I called. Now it's what, hello sunshine every morning? No thanks, I think I'll stick to alarm clocks."

And damn it if Malak didn't just smile wider, looking so damn comfortable with his legs stretched out and his back leaning against the headboard. "I like to be inconsistent. Try calling sometime and I'll be sure to snub you if that makes you feel better," he said, "But honestly, Dean, I no longer need the ruse. We know each other personally now. It's nice to be able to check up on my investments from time to time. Though to be honest the real reason I'm here is to be sure you've thought about what I said last night."

"What, the 'nothing is as it seems' schtick?" Dean all but grimaced, feeling tense all over since he had practically a whole butt cheek off the mattress and was curled into the tightest ball of naked Winchester he could manage, "Is there something besides cryptic bullshit hidden in there somewhere?"

Then to Dean's relief, Malak swung his legs over the side of the mattress and got up. "That's for you to discover yourself. I just had to abide by the rules and mention it."

"Rules?" Dean prompted.

Malak dusted off his lapels, as if they weren't pristine, and straightened his tie. "Remember, I don't particularly like chaos. Order can do so much more damage. So yes, even I follow the rules, Dean Winchester."

"But what—?"

A perfectly manicured hand rose sharply into the air, halting Dean's words without any powers to aid it; Dean just knew it would be better to hold his tongue. "As I said, some things you will have to figure out for yourself. And do work on that, will you? I have such high hopes for you, Dean. So far you're…right on schedule."

No matter how you looked at it, those were not words you wanted spoken to you by a demon. "And just what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Dean snapped. He had at least managed to better situate himself on the bed, the covers pulled in tight around him to cover as much of him as possible.

Just then Sasha came back out of the bathroom, rubbing his eyes and looking as though he hadn't slept at all. He glanced up at Dean and smiled weakly, not seeming to notice Malak beside the bed. "Oh," the incubus said, "You're up. Sorry if I woke you. My head is splitting open, I swear to god. This must be what a hangover feels like. That energy high is not so nice on the other end, lemme tell ya." His smile was fatigued but genuine. He was too close to the bed to not be able to see Malak standing there.

Dean just gaped as Malak moved past Sasha, allowing the incubus to take his place beside the bed with a telling grin. Dean knew he wasn't crazy or imagining anything; Malak was there. Hell, Dean could feel him.

"Dean?" Sasha questioned since Dean hadn't responded and wasn't really looking at him.

"He thinks you belong to him, you know?" Malak said, sounding amused as he looked Sasha up and down from only a dangerous foot away, "Keep in mind, Dean, that you belong to me first. And I don't like to share." Malak walked purposely closer to Sasha then, intent, threatening.

"No!" Dean cried, halfway across the bed in a panic before Malak suddenly stopped right behind Sasha's back. He wasn't as tall as the incubus, being only slightly taller than Dean in his male form, so he had to peer around Sasha's shoulders to meet Dean's gaze.

By now Sasha was understandably worried but not for his own sake. He remained standing beside the bed—naked, Dean realized, and he hated that because Malak didn't deserve to see the redhead bare. "Dean, what's wrong?" Sasha was saying, not realizing that Dean wasn't looking at him but behind him at the crazy, mother-fucking demon.

"Imagine the things I could do to him, Dean," Malak grinned over the top of Sasha's shoulder, raising his hands and ghosting them over Sasha's bare skin just a hair's breath from touching him, "Right now…I could do anything…and he couldn't stop me. Neither could you. Imagine it. Really, go ahead. In fact, allow me. It'll help put things in perspective for you."

Horror assaulted Dean's eyes like a flash bomb, planted right into his head by Malak's malignant hand. Dean couldn't feel his own body as the images took him but he knew he had to be trembling. The visions he saw, it was awful. It was just…carnage. And the whole of it was Sasha.

The incubus, once so beautiful and glorious, was completely shredded. There was blood everywhere. His wings had been torn from his body like a butterfly's. His eyes stared, dull and open, just open looking at nothing because there was nothing for them to see anymore.

Dean knew it wasn't real but the images were persistent and so damn vivid. He tried to cover his eyes but when he brought his hands up he saw that they were filthy with blood and gore, with remnants of Sasha.

It was because of him. He had done it. It was his fault. He always knew it would be his fault.

"Stop it…" Dean shook his head, trying to close his eyes and maybe they already were but he could still see it, "Stop it. Stop it. Stop it, stop it, stop it!"

"Dean!"

Strong hands gripped Dean's shoulders hard and shook him, breaking him from that awful sight, from the horrific illusion that had appeared so real he could smell the tang of blood in the air still.

But then there was just skin, Sasha's pale chest, whole, not bleeding or broken, and he was pulling Dean against him to try and calm him amidst this unexplainable fit. Dean was shaking, just as he knew he would be, but Sasha was on the bed now. It was easy to burry his face in that chest, smooth and perfect with a scar that no longer bled.

"Dean, it's okay," Sasha said, "It's okay. Oh god, it's okay, please stop shaking. You're just having a bad dream." A dream. Dean wished that was all, and in a way it was just a bad dream, only the dream was real. It always had been.

"I don't wish to hurt him, Dean," came Malak's voice from right where Dean knew the demon was still standing, though he wouldn't look, he wouldn't, "I find the incubus quite…pleasing, in fact. So please, don't make me do that again. You see, I can be very reasonable. Just bear in mind…it is always better to do what I ask. For their sake as well as yours."

Dean didn't have to ask who 'they' referred to other than Sasha. Of course it was Sam. The two of them were all he had, the heart of everything he was. He tried to calm in Sasha's arms as the incubus held him, cooing out soothing words and believing Dean was simply caught in some waking nightmare. He was. But he couldn't just abandon himself to it.

Looking up from where he had dug his face into Sasha's chest, Dean sunk into an actual embrace so he could glare over the incubus' shoulder at the demon beside the bed. Dean didn't want to worry Sasha any further or he might have said something nasty. But when had it ever been necessary to speak aloud for Malak to hear him? He said everything he needed to with that glare, staring unflinching into red on black with the most potent hatred.

Malak smiled. "That's why it's you, Dean. In all my time here and below no one has ever looked me in the eyes like that without fear. You'll do me proud." And then it was like smoke fading from a blown out candle, rippling Malak's image and fading him away into nothing.

A sob nearly broke out of Dean's throat but he wouldn't let it. He couldn't even begin to understand what Malak wanted, what the demon really wanted, but he knew that the very path he was on was for that damn demon's sake and it wasn't fair. Sam and Sasha were on that same path with him and he didn't know if it was them saving him or him condemning them. Forever.

Sasha was still holding him so tight, still whispering and speaking like he was terrified Dean was somehow lost. Dean didn't have time to be lost.

"It's okay," Dean managed, parroting what Sasha kept chanting to him. He clung to Sasha tighter, not because he needed it, even though he did, but because the incubus needed to be reassured that Dean wasn't lost. He wasn't broken. He wasn't weak. "It's okay," he said again, "Just…a bad dream."

"Dean," Sasha responded in a voice so soft it trembled, "Was it…Malak?"

Damn it. Why did Dean's companions have to be so damn smart? Dean squeezed Sasha once more and then pulled back. He was half on his knees and so was Sasha in a tangled mess of covers on the bed. "Doesn't matter," Dean said, "Gone now. Just popped in to feed me a little crazy on this fine winter morning." The smirk he threw at Sasha was feeble, he knew that. "You okay?"

Sasha gaped and hung onto Dean by the shoulders. "Am I okay? Dean, you were shaking and screaming and…" Sasha shook his head, "What the hell does it matter if I'm okay?"

"You said…worst hangover ever, right?" Dean shrugged, "Just wanna be sure you're not gonna puke all over me suddenly." Dean gave a little push at Sasha's chest and a small bit of the tension drained away from them.

"I'm fine," Sasha replied, "I can handle a little nausea. Now why don't we get you into a hot shower or something, okay? You're still shaking and your skin is freezing, Dean. Guess the Hellfire's mostly talk, huh?" he smirked.

Dean was so thankful that an answering smile still came easily. "Trying to get me into the shower already, are ya? Horny freak," Dean said, entirely loving. Sex was actually the last thing on his mind right now.

"Dean," Sasha prompted in a gauging, tender voice, "Do you want to…tell me about it? What he said? What he…did to you to make you react like that?"

It sounded to Dean like Sasha was trying to coax out a confession of being violated or something, though Dean supposed on several levels that was exactly what had happened. Still, he said, "Not really," hoping he could get across that he just couldn't right now, even though he didn't want to hurt Sasha's feelings by keeping quiet.

"Okay."

Okay. When Sam said that it was always startling because Sam rarely left things alone. But Sasha could be just as stubborn so it was just as much a relief to hear that simple word said by him. Dean looked up into those cobalt eyes and smiled gratefully. "I'll never let him touch you," he promised with the sharpness of both love and anger on his tongue. Saying that allowed for too many questions but Dean had to say it anyway, had to make himself believe it.

And it didn't bother him at all that Sasha's reply bordered on patronizing. "I know," the incubus said, cupping Dean's cheek, "Now come on. I need that hot shower too and we want an early start, don't we?"

Yes. Definitely. "And hey," Dean couldn't help grinning, this time for real, "Somebody's gonna have to go wake up Sammy."

It would have been such an insult to injury if Sasha had made good on his threat to not allow Dean to go bother Sam. It was his brotherly duty after all. It was also still ridiculously early—6:30 only—when Dean walked up to Sam's motel room door. Breakfast had just started in the little nook that served continental and Sasha had grudgingly gone ahead to make sure there was actually some coffee brewing.

Nothing could wipe the smirk from Dean's face as he raised a hand to knock, not even the lingering shuddery feeling left over from Malak's morning visit. Dean was quite surprised though that after only two swift knocks a couple moments was all it took before Sam opened the door.

He looked much as Sasha had, worn and drawn like he hadn't really slept. And yet he was half dressed already in one of his more common pairs of jeans. "Dean," Sam said, maybe mildly surprised, "If this is my wake-up call I'll be down in a couple minutes." Sam then moved to promptly shut the door.

Dean wedged his foot just enough to keep the door open, much to Sam's obvious annoyance. Dean couldn't see around Jumbo's oversized body into the room, which still seemed to be dark, but he could tell by Sam's demeanor that the twins had to still be in there. "Not so fast, Quick Draw, I'm just checking up on you. Sasha's got one hell of an energy hangover. You?"

That hazel gaze eyed Dean for a minute, unreadable and guarded. "Uhhh…yeah, I guess. Sure," he finally said.

'Yeah, I guess, sure'? Dean frowned. "What's going on? You better not have ditched the girls and slept alone or I might just have to kick your ass for being the biggest damn idiot on the planet," he half joked. He knew when there was something off with his brother, and either Sam didn't have the same hangover as Sasha, which was possible, or he was too preoccupied with something else.

The truth was that Sam was a much better liar than Dean and sometimes he could even fool Dean right along with everybody else. Those times were rare though because Sam had to want to lie to Dean for it to work, and, bless the kid, he usually just wanted to be found out.

"Sammy," Dean pressed, pushing on the door to get Sam to stop hiding behind it.

Sam allowed the simple action but he still scowled, still looked invaded for the sake of his pride. "No, Dean. I didn't sleep alone," Sam all but growled even as the unmistakable sight of the twins still in bed materialized behind Sam in the darkness when the door swung open a little, "Not that it's any of your business if you just came here to tease me."

Defensive. He was being defensive to better hide something else. "Actually," Dean started a little smugly, "It was going to be more like me giving you a big pat on the back. But now I gotta wonder what else happened since something else obviously did happen or you wouldn't be being such a bitch the morning after a righteously hot threesome with a couple of succubus twins."

A grimace crossed Sam's face, partially because Dean was so clearly on the mark but also because Sam couldn't keep his good boy nature from getting embarrassed at Dean articulating last night out loud.

But then the expression broke, dropped, and suddenly there went the puppy dogs.

"Nothing…happened. Well, obviously that happened," Sam indicated behind him, "And that was, ya know…fine."

Dean raised both eyebrows skeptically. Only his walking oak tree of a brother would describe a threesome as fine.

"Damn it, Dean," Sam said in a harsh whisper, pulling the door halfway closed again so that his bare chest was the only thing visible, "It was ridiculously hot and awesome, alright? Now will you shut up about it?"

It didn't need to be mentioned that Dean hadn't actually said anything. "So…the thing that has you spazzing and grumpy after all that hot and awesome is…what exactly?"

"Nothing!" Sam said a little too quickly. All Dean had to do was give Sam Dad's 'you really think I'm gonna buy that' look and the kid crumbled. He scrubbed his face the way Dean often did when the world just wasn't making sense. "It was…it was just this stupid dream, okay, it wasn't a big deal."

"Dream? You mean a vision?"

"No!" Sam countered just as quick and loud as before, which made Dean doubt how much Sam actually believed that, "I…don't know," Sam admitted with something like anguish, "I don't think so. God, it couldn't have been." He got lost in his head for a moment but when he looked up at Dean again he quickly steeled himself. "It's nothing. Really, don't worry about it. Just that energy working its course or something. We should…get on the road. Coffee and some food sounds great about now so I'll…just…umm…" he looked behind him a little lost.

"You gotta wake 'em up, Sammy. Coz ya know, it'd be mighty ungentlemanly of you to fuck and run," Dean grinned.

Sam whipped around with an exasperated, angry expression, utterly offended, which of course was the whole point.

"Maybe they'll share some crappy hotel breakfast with us before we go," Dean said, patting Sam on the arm.

And because Dean was just Dean and Sam knew how to accept that, the anger melted into mild annoyance which then quickly morphed into a look of something like gratefulness, because, after all, Dean wasn't pushing for anymore than what Sam had already given. This time. "Yeah," Sam said, "I'm sure they'd really like that."

In fact the twins were practically too bouncy and energized to contain. Dean couldn't understand at first how they had gone from being totally out on Sam's bed to being awake and raring to go—granted, in the clothes from last night—like they couldn't wait to start the day. Then Dean had to remind himself that said twins had fed off of his uber-powerful brother while Sam was on a power kick anyway, so it really shouldn't be a surprise that they had, uh, gotten their fill.

He said as much to them aloud at the breakfast table if only to see Sam blush the color of Sasha's hair.

"You boys are a bunch of laughs," Attoinette giggled, "I wouldn't want to get all caught up in a hunt or anything like the others, but joining you for the after party's great. Course don't you think for one second we wouldn't come running if you called and needed our help some time. We still pack a pretty mean punch for chicks, you know," she winked.

"Keep the network going, Sash," Epica added, sitting between Sasha and Sam and giving Sasha a firm smack on the back, "Meanwhile, we'll get to working on those elders about getting you un-banished. Either way, maybe we can do this again some time."

Dean noticed quite blatantly the way the succubus glanced to her other side at Sam as she said that, who of course was fully back to his senses and utterly mortified by the entire situation. Not that the kid had any regrets; Sam had made it quite plain to Dean that everyone got what they wanted last night and there would be no point in thinking otherwise. Sometimes the kid did know how to use that oversized brain of his.

They saw the twins off, saying quick but thoughtful goodbyes that included kisses all around—to the lips, Dean noted, though chaste and sweet. Well, except for Epica's goodbye kiss to Sam. The tall hunter actually looked a little breathless when they were finally waving at the twins' retreating car.

"Where to?" Dean said, more than ready to hit open road even though the sun had barely risen. He shifted into drive and took off out of the parking lot.

Sasha was already kicked back and lying down in the backseat, hoping to wait out his pounding head and slightly upset stomach—though food had helped. Sam looked maybe a little less worse for the wear but he still leaned the front seat back as far as he could and closed his eyes.

"So I'm chauffeuring the living dead today, is that it?" Dean snarked.

"Colorado," Sam said, eyes still closed and voice oddly even, "Head for Colorado."

"Uhh, okay, psychic boy," Dean said as his baby hit the highway and purred in appreciation, "And what are we gonna find in Colorado? Demons obviously, but—"

"I'm not sure. Just…a feeling. Maybe we'll even run into some other demons along the way. I'll let you know if we get close to anything."

It was cool, Dean could admit it, the way Sam could just do that, just know where the baddies were, bring them there and then bam, team effort to take care of it. Well, sometimes a team effort. Usually Sam handled things fairly well on his own what with being able to exorcize the damn things without even speaking. But as awesome as the superpowers could be it was still kind of unsettling, especially since Sam was just so casual about it lately.

"I know where the line is, Dean," Sam went on, as if he was right inside Dean's head even though he swore he would never do that again without permission, "And I'm not about to cross it. Malak doesn't own me. He's never gonna get me. Yellow Eyes might have triggered the powers but their mine now and I know how to use them. I refuse to let that bastard change that."

A shiver ran down Dean's spine to hear Sam's words and the familiarity of that conviction. It was familiar because it was also his own. "Colorado then," Dean said, taking stock of how he needed to change coarse. He knew the US roads so well it wasn't even a challenge half the time and often he never even used the map in his glovebox.

"Hey, if we're heading to Colorado I can think of something already that we might run into," Sasha called from his reclined position in the backseat. In the rearview mirror all Dean could see was Sasha's torso and the way his shirt hitched up as he stretched back, showing off those damn sexy tattoos. "The Roadhouse," Sasha said, "We could detour a little. Should be able to make it there for a late lunch and stretch our legs before moving on. I'm sure Ellen and Jo would appreciate it. I can't remember that last time we talked to them."

Dean couldn't either, though admittedly they had been sort of busy. Jo had called a few times when they first left the Roadhouse after New Years, but then things sort of came to a halt. They had just assumed the Roadhouse had started to pick up. It had been over two months since they talked to a Harvelle.

"I know we can't afford to slow down," Sasha continued, "And I'm not suggesting we do. Just a couple hours to rest, eat, see Ellen and Jo, and maybe even pick up some info. Some other hunters might have a few demon leads outside your radius, Sam."

Hazel eyes turned to the side, looking at Dean but including Sasha in the back as well. "That's actually a pretty good idea. Dean?"

"Hell, you know I'm game," Dean said.

"Good," Sasha replied, "Then…there's something else I think we need to talk about. Well, a couple things." Dean did not like that tone of voice, too serious and foreboding, especially since Sasha was only a torso right now. "I haven't wanted to say anything but…but, hell, it's hard enough just trying to pretend we're not all panicking half the time, so…"

"Dude," Dean interrupted, "You cannot play Devil's Advocate if I can't see your face. Sit up, will ya?" It was code of conduct. And it would make Dean feel better.

An exasperated but amused laugh filtered up from behind Sam's seat and then Sasha was suddenly more than a torso—he was eyes and a tense smile and that shocking red hair. "Just bear with me," he said, leaning forward with a hand on either of their seats, "First thing, and just let me say it…are we really going to keep doing what Malak told us to do without trying to figure out what he's really after? And before we even get into that discussion," Sasha moved on to be sure Dean and Sam couldn't interrupt, "There's the other thing. How do we even know we're getting rid of the right demons?"

"What do you mean?" Dean had to ask, "We find a demon, we exorcize it, we move onto the next one."

"Yeah, but…Malak said we need to get rid of the demons that came through the Devil's Gate. He said that specifically."

"So you're saying, what if we waste all of our time on demons that were already here and miss some of the ones we actually need?" Sam prompted. It was a sobering thought.

"Or worse," Sasha went on—great, it could get worse, "What if one of those demons jumped in a body…and got on a plane? Our playing field would be massive. We wouldn't even know where to start."

Dean unconsciously gripped the steering wheel tighter, feeling his throat go suddenly dry. This was not what he wanted to hear right now. "Thanks for the words of comfort, baby," he said a little more harshly than intended, "I feel all warm and fuzzy now."

The pained expression Dean was awarded made him instantly regret his harsh words. "Dean, I'm sorry," Sasha said, "But I want to be sure we know as much as we can so we do this right. No matter what Malak says we all know we can't trust him. Err, her." Sasha grimaced. "She, he, him, they, it, whatever. He's planning something bigger and I don't like it."

Something about the way Dean and Sam tried so hard not to look at each other right then made it obvious to Dean that they were thinking the same thing. Neither of them wanted to admit it. Neither of them wanted to say it out loud. And they both knew they could have a hundred arguments about the issue and they would still end up on the same road.

Dean tried to tell himself that that was a good thing, that it meant they were strong because they would not be taken in. They would fight. They would prove that bastard wrong. They would win, somehow they would win. All Dean wanted in the whole world was to live out the rest of his life with these two men beside him. He just kind of wanted that life to be a little bit longer than a couple of months.

"The Devil's Gate was unprecedented," Sam said, trying so hard to sound detached and to the point, "There couldn't have been more than a handful of demons in the States, maybe less, before it opened. And as for one getting on a plane? I just don't think so. Not to get out of the country. There's too much right here, the heart of the world, the best place to reign chaos. No, the demons didn't leave. They're here. All of them. And we're going to find every last one of them and it's going to be every last one that matters."

There was that conviction again, so sure, so strong.

"Whatever Malak thinks he can do to me, to us," Sam quickly amended, looking sharply at Sasha and Dean in turn, "We have each other to make sure he never gets what he really wants."

For a moment the car was too quiet after that; there were too many unanswered questions. In the end it was true that all they had was each other and that conviction that continued to run between them.

Then Sasha was leaning forward, and Dean had to gape a little when he saw that the reason was so that the incubus could kiss Sam firmly on the side of his head.

Sam was gaping a little too when Sasha pulled away from him. "What was that for?"

Sasha smiled, all genuine and loving. "For making me feel better," he shrugged, "I believe in you, Sam. No matter what happens. You too," he grinned at Dean and swiftly placed a matching smooch on Dean's temple, "Ya know, in case I made you feel left out or anything."

"Hey, personal space," Dean said, swerving his head away and swatting at Sasha half-heartedly, "Ya big freak," Dean added, as lovingly as Sasha had spoken to Sam.

Bright laughter bounced back at Dean, loud and glorious within the confines of the car. Sasha patted the brothers' shoulders and sat back. "Well, this freak is a gonna take a nap, see if I can sleep off any more of this demonic hangover. We'll be fine. Long as we know where we're headed."

The real meaning of 'long as we know what we're doing', which really involved a lot more than just knowing they were going to the Roadhouse, resounded around them like an echo. They could only hope that they were doing the right thing.

After Sasha had resettled in the backseat, Dean tried to just drive and not think too hard about what they had talked about. He was surprised though when Sam broke first because to be honest he had been just waiting to cave.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sam's head turn to look at him, felt those warm-hued eyes just staring. He knew that they were pleading with him for something he just didn't know for what. When Dean finally dared glance, finally dared look and meet his brother's gaze, there was no doubt in him at all that the man sitting next to him was his brother, wholly and completely. And Dean would do anything to make sure it stayed that way.

For a brief moment Dean reached over to Sam's knee and squeezed reassurance. Then he gave Sam's leg a firm push and said, "Dude. Read a book or something, you're creeping me out."

And Sam laughed.

After the laughter had faded and it was quiet in the Impala again, Dean became lulled by the soft snores of his companions as they drifted to sleep. He'd wake one of them up to take a driving shift before they got to Missouri. Maybe. For now he just enjoyed knowing that the things he loved most were safe and with him. Even when they were Sasha the torso and Sam the sleeping giant, they were still his.

They pulled up to the Roadhouse a little after one o'clock and Dean was famished. It seemed word had spread fast too that the one place hunters were sure to get a good meal, a strong drink, and a place to sleep was back, because there were several other cars parked around the renovated B&B. There was little else for miles around so one might almost think it was tourist season.

Dean could feel the tension radiating off of Sasha as they got out of the car. Even though the incubus had been the one to suggest this stopping point it was still difficult for him to be around other hunters. There was always that chance that one of them would find out what he really was and most hunters wouldn't be as open-minded as Bobby and Ellen and Jo.

"I'd never let any of them hurt you," Dean heard Sam say to Sasha. It was said in that low, dangerous voice of Sam's that Dean often tried to pretend his brother didn't have.

"Don't say that so much like a threat," Dean said, bucking Sam with his shoulder as they headed for the door.

"I'm just saying," Sam defended, looking both at Dean's concerned expression and at Sasha's grateful but wide eyes, "If there was ever any trouble I could handle it."

Despite everything they had talked about earlier, Dean just didn't like the sound of that. "For all we know you're the one who might stir up that trouble, Sammy, not Sasha," Dean said, "So cool those jets, Rocket Boy. We're just here for a meal and Ellen and Jo's good company. I'm sure any demon info we need they'll know about as much as any of the recluses in there."

"Dean, wait," Sasha said, grabbing Dean's shoulder with a little more incubus strength than Dean usually liked. Dean had been about to open the main door into the Roadhouse, which left them hovering just outside. "Ellen and Jo don't know. About the deal. They don't know. What are we gonna tell them?"

Dean really didn't see how that was an issue. "Uhh, that we're hunting demons. Since when is that not a normal activity for hunters?" That seemed obvious enough, but Sam and Sasha looked at Dean with matching furrowed brows, expectant. "Oh for fuck's sake, no. Don't even start with me. We do not need to tell them."

"But, Dean—"

"Sammy."

"Dean, listen for a second," Sasha said over the other two, "The people you know you can trust the most are us, Bobby, and the Harvelles. We're already here and Bobby's going to join us as soon as he can. Maybe, if things get down to the wire, it'll be good to have Ellen and Jo with us too."

"I'm with Sasha," Sam said, not surprisingly, "You know they'll understand, Dean, and we should be as prepared as we can be. My powers aren't full proof."

Ha! Dean had to huff at that. "Sure, say that now. But a moment ago you were all 'bring on the trouble'!" Oh how Dean longed for the day when making a good point would be enough for these guys to back down. Unfortunately, while it was one thing when they double-teamed him because they thought they were right, it was entirely different when they actually were. "Damn it," Dean grumbled, even as he was pushing open the door, "One of these days we are so having a serious talk about all these fucking coups of yours."

It was probably a good thing Dean couldn't see Sam and Sasha's faces as they walked into the main bar area of the Roadhouse because he was almost certain they were smirking. Bitches.

There was no one immediately visible behind the bar as they entered but Ellen had obviously set out several more tables than they remembered and a number of them were occupied with one or more hunters—usually just one doing his own thing. It was customary that they pretty much all glanced up to gauge the newcomers but their gazes didn't remain long. Dean didn't recognize anyone, not that they knew many hunters outside their small circle anymore. But he did note that there was one woman among the men, older with short dark hair, reading tarot.

By the time they reached the empty bar Ellen appeared out of one of the doorways carrying a couple of boxes. Her eyebrows lifted when she saw them. "Well, I'll be. Been awhile since you boys came calling. Don't look too dead I see. You don't know how to use a phone?" She went straight for behind the bar and set her boxes down beneath the counter. Her expression was trapped somewhere between amused and annoyed so they could tell she was happy to see them.

"Good to see you too, Ellen," Sasha said, sliding onto a stool, "Place looks like it's back to normal. Good crowd."

"Hn," Ellen huffed, "And I'm barely keeping up. Sure coulda used Jo's help lately. I don't suppose my daughter's been keeping in touch with you boys better than she has with me. That girl always was bad at picking up a phone."

That information hit them all at the same time and they all simultaneously fell into responses.

"Wait."

"What?"

"Jo's not here?"

"Since when?"

"What's she gotten herself into now?"

And then they all realized, also simultaneously, how much they had just sounded like worried older brothers.

Ellen barked a laugh and started to fill three glasses without asking what the boys would like. "Guess I guessed wrong. She called a bit ago and said she'd be through this afternoon. Seeing you boys I thought maybe you were in on it. 'Bout time I'll get to meet this hunter she's partnered herself with."

And again.

"What hunter?"

"Jo's out hunting?"

"What's she thinking?"

"Who is this guy?"

"Does she know what she's doing?"

"I thought she was gonna stick around here for awhile."

Ellen's eyes danced a little like maybe she would laugh for real she was so amused by their antics. "I haven't seen my little girl face to face since a week after you boys left in January," Ellen explained, passing out the unrequested drinks. They all immediately took a gulp. "And I can't say much about this hunter because Jo ain't telling me much. All she's given away is that this gal is new to the trade but knows her stuff, and they've been getting on pretty well these past couple 'a months."

Dean was fairly certain that he caught the important part of that sentence before either of the others because he was the first to say, "Wait. Gal? You mean it's a chick?"

It was as if some unified male tension had been building up and suddenly it released. A chick they could handle.

"Figured she might head off to hunt again some time, but I didn't think it'd be so quick," Dean admitted, "But I guess if she's at least got someone to watch her back."

"Yeah," Sam agreed.

"It's not like she isn't capable," Sasha added with a shrug.

Ellen's eyebrows got lost up into her hairline again, just staring at them for a moment, eyes darting between the three of them, and then she was shaking her head like she should have expected this reaction and really, why was she surprised. "So you boys are here on your own then, I take it," she said, "Anything I can help you with? I'm sure you'll wanna stick around at least long enough to see Jo and this new girl she's got with her. They shouldn't be too far behind you."

"We've actually been tracking the demons from the Devil's Gate," Sasha started right in, taking another drink from whatever concoction Ellen had made for them that had just the right kick without being too much for mid afternoon, "Figure it's where our attention's best focused. You haven't heard anything about any demon activity, have you?" Sasha briefly glanced at Dean as if to say, yeah, we should still tell her, but when we get her and Jo alone later.

For a moment Ellen disappeared to where she had set those boxes. She opened one, which they could see had a bunch of new glasses, and started taking them out and setting them on the bar. As she talked, she carefully wiped off each one before putting it with the other glasses she already used. "Well, not too much to be honest. Lord knows there's gotta still be well over a hundred out there even though some hunters have gotten lucky and I know you boys have taken out a few. Seems the most activity's happening on the coasts. Not sure why. Bigger populations in some cases, I suppose. Maybe their finally catching wise and trying to blend in with the crowd. But I don't imagine that's too much trouble for you, is it?" Ellen said with a look at Sam.

It was a discreet way of asking how Sam's power were coming along since really they hadn't let Ellen know all that much about them and she certainly didn't know how powerful he was now. Sam just smiled and said, "We do what we can, and we've been doing pretty well lately. Right now we're heading to Colorado but if there seems to be more action on the coast, we'll probably continue on after that. Thanks."

Ellen nodded, seemingly satisfied with their exchange. "Can I get you boys anything to eat? Missed the lunch rush but I can whip up something. Gets pretty slow in the afternoons. Usually when the hunters hit the books if they don't just head right out. Why don't you grab that one lounge off that way," she said, pointing through one of the doors that Dean remembered eventually led to the lounge with the TV that he had rested in while recovering from that damn shotgun wound.

It was understood that she was telling them where they could have a little privacy so she could come in later and get the real low-down without any eager ears overhearing.

"Oh," Ellen said before they could get too far from their stools, "And if you see an old friend in there, tell her to keep to the back of the couch if she can. Thing's been shedding something awful and it's not even warm out yet."

A smile stretched on Sasha's face immediately and when Dean saw it he couldn't help following suit. He had almost forgotten.

They made their way through to the lounge, passing few other hunters in this particular part of the building, and found the room not only vacant but dark. Dean remembered where the light was and groped along the wall to flick it on. There were no windows back here so it got pretty dark even in daylight.

The second the light filled the room Dean heard a telling 'prrrp' sound from the couch. Sasha was already reaching over the back of it by the time Dean was looking the right direction and a second later the incubus had a large, fluffy grey tabby cat in his arms.

"Wally, you're so big," he said, his smile beaming as the 'cat' continued to chirp and squirm in his arms so she could better rub her face up against his. She made a beautiful cat, the only real strange thing being the blue eyes that wasn't usually common for a tabby. Sasha laughed as he stroked her fur, enjoying the love of one of the few animals that actually gave him a chance.

"Geez, man, you're making me jealous with all that," Dean grinned, approaching the pair so he could reach out and pet Wally himself. She bucked up into his hand. "Remember me, do ya? You been behaving?"

Wally chirped as if to say, 'of course'. And since there wasn't any great smell of cat about the place, or any wrecked furniture, and all Ellen had said was that she was shedding a bit much, they figured they could probably believe her.

"I don't think it'd be too risky to pop back to your real self for awhile," Dean said, since as much as he loved cats he really did like Wally's real look more, like a baby Ewok or something with her tiny little human hands.

The chimera immediately chirped again and wriggled in Sasha's arms. Then suddenly she was a fluffy little gremlin looking thing with floppy ears. She definitely looked bigger.

Deciding to sit themselves down and relax a little while they waited for food and the arrival of Jo, Dean stretched back in the reclining chair and Sasha sat down on the couch with Wally. Sam had been fairly silent, not quite as overjoyed as the other two but still a fan of Wally of course. He sat down next to Sasha and held out his hand for her to sniff, but when he got close to her she actually jumped back a little.

"Whoa, it's okay, girl," Sasha immediately cooed, "It's just Sam. Remember?"

Sam looked hurt, as startled as the creature in Sasha's arms. He started to lower his hand but before he could Wally ventured out a little again, crawling out of Sasha's arms so she could sniff Sam properly. She cocked her head at him, maybe a little timid still, and then looked back at Sasha again.

"It's really Sam, Wally," Sasha said like he could understand that big-eyed look of hers, "He probably just smells a little…different is all. You've been using you powers so much more since we were last here," Sasha said to Sam, "I'm sure that's all it is. Go ahead, Wally."

The chimera, so smart with that human part of her, actually gave a little head bob like a nod and turned back to Sam. She inched closer and closer, sniffing the air, gauging if she trusted her senses, and when she finally reached Sam's hand and he moved it to pet her back, she sank into his touch. A few 'prrrps' later and Sam didn't look so devastated anymore.

He had always been the St. Francis of the family, unlike Dean who was hit or miss.

"I think the day she's actually afraid of me, we might have to start worrying," he said, half serious. She crawled into his lap, purring like the cat she pretended to be, and Dean could tell Sam enjoyed the calming effect of an animal's acceptance. She was a supernatural animal, granted, but animals of any kind were still one of the best watchmen for knowing if something otherworldly was going on.

For a few minutes the hunters just sat there, enjoying a little time to relax and maybe not think so much, which was made easier by the steady rhythm of Wally's purring. Ellen came in with a plate of sandwiches for them after awhile and Dean resisted the urge to make some kind of June Cleaver comment. That would more than likely have gotten him smacked.

She disappeared again, saying she'd be in when she could since she wanted to hear, as she put it, what was really going on, and they started to scarf down their food. Dean was actually surprised how good Wally was about not trying to get into their food while they ate. Though she did sit on the coffee table and watch them with mournful eyes that eventually got Sasha to sneak her a piece of turkey.

"So, Colorado," Dean started off, "Any more clues as to what's waiting for us there, Sammy, now that we're closer, or still just going off instinct?"

Sam made a face, though not because he was annoyed with Dean's way of questioning. "I think a small gathering again but not like what we saw before. And…something else. I just can't put my finger on it. It's demonic, definitely, but I don't know if it's…demons. Which I realize makes no sense," he said in response to Sasha and Dean's questioning gazes. He took a large bit of his second sandwich, looking kind of sheepish.

"Just make sure you keep us in the loop," Sasha said, smiling so it was obvious he was teasing, "Don't go thinking we just know what you're thinking coz you can see what we're thinking. If you sense anything or get any ideas about this mess you better fill us in. Never know what might be important."

It was meant to be lighthearted not a lecture, but somehow it didn't seem that way judging by Sam's reaction—like he had just been given one of Dad's bullshit lectures about god knows what and now Sam was just sort of crumbled.

Sasha immediately became worried; Dean could see it written all over the incubus' face. "Sam, I…I'm just goofing around. I mean, sure, we want you to keep us in the know if you catch wind of anything but I didn't mean to upset you."

"No," Sam said right away, "I'm not…upset." The way his face was scrunched up said the exact opposite. He set his sandwich down on the plate in front of him like he had lost his appetite. He stared at it, not looking at Sam and Dean as he said, "You're…right. You're right, Sasha, I have to make sure I tell you everything. And…well…last night, I had this—"

"Well if my eyes don't deceive me," interrupted a confident female voice with the slightest drawl, "I do believe I'm seeing Winchesters."

All three of the boys turned to the doorway where Jo was walking in with a grin and a sure stride. She looked good, better than good, great. She had a certain glow about her like she was on top of the world. Her hair even bounced a little more than usual, curled at the ends as always, and Dean would swear she was wearing a new leather jacket, dark grey and vintage looking even though these days it was probably trendy.

Jo stopped at the side of the couch, which the boys were all sharing at the moment so they could eat their sandwiches over the coffee table, and propped a hand on her hip. She smiled at Sasha. "Unless you don't like being called Mrs. Winchester, that is," she winked.

If that had been the other way around Dean probably would have pounced on her, but since it was directed at Sasha the joke went off without fists flying. Sasha just laughed and getting up from the couch he immediately pulled Jo in for a hug. "Now you're just asking for it," he said as he held her.

Of course one hug could only lead to another—the damn evil things—so Sam and Dean were soon up embracing Jo too. Dean couldn't help noticing that there was a fair bit more muscle to the girl, but if she had been hunting regularly that wasn't really surprising.

"So where is she?" Sasha asked first, looking back out the door expectantly, "Your Mom told us you've been hunting with a partner. Some girl new to hunting but pretty damn sharp otherwise, something like that?"

Jo broke into a grin, standing amazingly tall even amongst three men who towered fairly well over her. "Not so new she still needs her diapers changed," she said, "She's been hunting for about two years now. It's all probably a longer story than you'll want to sit through. Mom's got a hold of her right now but I'm sure she'll be back. Had to come see you guys myself first."

"But who is she?" Sam pressed, "Someone you knew before? Sounds like you two just sort of fell in together."

"Actually," Jo said with a sly grin, "Apparently she's someone you've known before. She said she met you guys way back on a hunt. One of your hunts, not hers. Says she can credit even considering it to you guys saving her life." It was obvious Jo was speaking to Sam and Dean, not Sasha, so it had to have been from at least before the Devil's Gate.

The very idea had Dean bursting with curiosity. "Some chick we saved turned hunter coz of us?" he said, breaking into a wider grin, "That's totally awesome."

"Wow," Sam agreed, "With the way most hunts turn out that's kind of hard to believe. But I guess if she's suited for it."

"And then some," Jo said, "You can rest assured we're suited for each other too. We've had over a dozen hunts so far and no slip ups or close calls. Clock work perfection. I think I'm grateful you guys never let me stick around too long. Working with another girl is much easier."

Dean chuckled. "I'd take that as a slam if it didn't make a whole lotta sense," he said, "So I gotta know, what's this mystery girl's name anyway?"

"Sarah…" came a breathy reply, but it wasn't from Jo. It was somewhat unsettling actually that that softly shocked reply came from Sam.

Once again Dean turned to the entrance of the lounge to see who had entered. His eyes fell upon a very beautiful young woman, long dark hair, darker complexion and dark eyes, with that kind of glow about her skin like she stayed out in the sun just the right amount. She was curvier than average but obviously fit, dressed much like Jo, very 'slayer chic' as Dean liked to call it.

Dean recognized her immediately. The details filled in more slowly.

Sarah.

Sarah…Blake.

Upstate New York.

Haunted painting.

Little girl psycho killer.

'Sam, marry that girl.'

Sarah smiled and Dean couldn't be sure if the expression she threw at his brother was pleased or dangerous. "Hi, Sam."

tbc...

A/N: Huh. I was going to warn you about this but then...I didn't. Anyway, if you don't remember, Sarah Blake is from "Provenence" Season One. If you didn't like her, tough. I think she is hot and awesome and would make a good hunter. And this is the Sam arc after all. Don't think I'm going to make anything easy for him.

AND, ATTENTION! Here begins a Sasha Drabble Contest. That's right, 100 words or less, please submit to me, whether in your review or sent to me through email, which you can get to at the website, a Sasha focused drabble. Your prompt, ironically enough, is 'Sam' in honor of the Sam arc. Go nuts. I expect most of you guys to do this because drabbles can be so fun and are short. Not that I'll get upset if I only get one submission, but come on, folks, give it a shot. Winner can request. As an example, here is one from deangirl1 who suggested the contest:

Dean Winchester: Last Will and Testament

To Sasha, I leave my most valuable possession:

Small graspy hands reaching for comfort.

Small warm hand slipping into mine.

Medium hand clutching my jacket, first day of school.

How to hold a knife, shoot a gun.

Bigger hands clasping a letter.

Missing and missed, reunited.

Brothers first, last, and always.

Fingers madly typing. Chewing on a hangnail.

Geek boy. Prankster.

Big hand comforting on chest.

Grounding me.

Puppy eyes, floppy hair, bitch face.

Samantha, Scully, Sasquatch, Bitch.

Everything, all I have.

Sammy. Sam.

Sasha sighed and a single tear tracked down his cheek.