Part 10: Out of the Fire

Dean would personally filet anyone who commented on how many tears he had shed in the past few hours. Every last one of them had been justified. He had had to watch his brother die—a second time—watch his lover's body do unspeakable things, and all with the threat that he would have nothing left at the end of it save a waiting spot in Hell. He should be crying still. But he couldn't anymore. He was too relieved, too deliriously happy. The last of his tears dried quickly. There was no way he could have prepared for the ambush he received tonight and yet they had somehow managed to come out ahead. Again.

Deus ex Samina, Dean giggled to himself. Well, more like Sam ex Machina but he liked the way it sounded the other way better.

His mirth couldn't last long though. As soon as he started thinking about Sam's miraculous recovery and how he had come to their rescue, Dean went immediately back to those same recent thoughts: he had watched his brother die. He had watched Sam die. That last barrier coming down was not enough of an explanation; Sam shouldn't have been able to access it if he was lying dead on their hotel room floor.

Before Dean could come up with a nice way of turning their celebration into brotherly interrogation and chiding, Cam and Lindsey were already helping Sasha stand and Sam was beginning to lift Dean from the floor as well.

Dean immediately sank bonelessly to the floor.

"Dean!" That was Sasha, his voice weak but strong enough to call out after seeing Dean collapse.

Sam had Dean around the waist but dead weight was more surprising than it was heavy, so even the Demon Boy King fell to his knees in an attempt to hold onto him. "Dean?" he said in that concerned but firm tone he usually used when he didn't want Dean to know how worried he was, "Look at me, okay? You still with us? You have to stay awake. You have a concussion."

"No…shit," Dean replied in a much more mumbled voice than he intended. He was still awake but his vision had gone dark for a minute and he felt like putty in Sam's arms. He blinked several times to get his eyes to focus but for a while there were two Sam's looking down at him instead of one. Talk about nightmare. "Personal…space, Sammy," he said, trying to push at Sam since Jumbo's hands were all over his face, "'M fine. No…memory loss or nothin'. Just dizzy."

"That doesn't mean you're fine, Dean" Sam shot back, fingers pulling down the skin beneath Dean's eyes to check them, "Meg knocked you out cold. Waking up only to pass out again usually isn't a good sign."

Dean could see fine now. And he hadn't passed out again. Okay, so his head was throbbing and he felt like he was going to hurl all over Sam's layered shirts, but he didn't need to be manhandled. He pushed at Sam's chest and sat up. "Said I'm fine," he grunted, "Not my fault…someone decided to knock my fucking teeth out." Dean held the side of his face where Lindsey had repeatedly struck him. It felt swollen and raw, and he knew it was already bruising over.

There was a gentle 'ahem' noise that sounded suspiciously feminine. Dean glanced up and could see Lindsey and Cam holding onto Sasha, both looking red in the face. There was another louder 'ahem' from Charis' direction causing Lindsey to look off sheepishly to the side. Then he was stammering, "I'm…sorry, I…I thought you'd lost your mind, or…or maybe this was planned all along. I didn't..." he sighed, trying to look anywhere but at Dean, "I'm sorry," he said again, "But if we're ever in the same situation again, I'd make the same call. You know that."

"Lindsey," Charis snapped, the same huff to her tone as her first and second 'ahem'.

"I would," Lindsey defended before returning his eyes to Dean, "There was no reason to trust you except for one man's word over another's, and no matter how loyal or honest you may seem, either of you," he added with a look at Sam, "I'd still sooner side with Sasha. Every time. Even if I'm wrong." He accentuated this declaration by shifting Sasha against him and holding the redhead closer. He didn't look at Sasha directly but Dean could see how much Sasha couldn't help smiling to hear Lindsey say that.

Murderous as Charis appeared towards her husband right now, Dean had to agree with what Lindsey had said. "Good," he nodded, pushing his hands at Sam, this time to indicate he wanted help getting up. Sam rolled his eyes but complied. "Next time maybe it'll be me who's possessed or a shapeshifter or who knows what. Not like it hasn't happened before. At least this way I know Sasha has more of a chance."

"Dean," Sasha said with a frown, stumbling forward out of Cam and Lindsey's hold so he could return to his place beside Sam and Dean. Sasha actually had better footing than Dean right now so he easily slid in against Dean's side while Sam helped support him on the other. "Why don't we work on no one being a bad guy in disguise so we never have to worry about it? We might want to think of something more permanent than those anti-possession charms. For me too. That was…not fun."

Dean anticipated miles of fallout from this and wanted nothing more than to preempt it. "You know there's no point in beating yourself up over this, right?" Dean said, glad for Sam's support on his left side but more focused on Sasha at his right as he raised a hand to cup that smooth pale face. Sasha also had a few bruises forming on his jaw thanks to Sam the Barbarian.

"I know," Sasha said in a small voice, eyes darting away.

"It wasn't you," Dean said firmly, tugging Sasha's chin to get those blue eyes back on him, "It was Meg. It doesn't matter what she made your body do. It wasn't you. Sam can vouch for that." Dean looked over at his brother but Sam's lips were already pursed as he was more than likely remembering all the horrible things Meg made him do, including murder and attempted murder of both Jo and Dean.

"Yeah…" Sam muttered weakly.

Great. Subject change, please. "Can we maybe focus for a minute on you coming back from the dead? Again," Dean started right in, "Coz I had nothing to do with it this time. You were dead, Sammy. I mean I fucking saw it happen. At least it sure as hell didn't look like you were breathing from where I was standing."

"He wasn't," Sasha joined in, brow furrowed and mouth turned down in a grim expression. The redhead still had a few tears lingering at the corners of his eyes that were begging to fall. "I…felt it when you stopped, Sam, when you weren't breathing anymore. She made me hold on even past that, how…how could you have survived?"

With all eyes now on him, including those of the gathered sex demons, Sam finally looked a little kicked down to size. Well, down to the size of normal people anyway, since he was such a frickin' giant otherwise. His shoulders hunched like the last thing he wanted was to be the center of attention even though he had recently made such a spectacle of himself.

It made Dean feel at least mildly better because it was such a normal Sam reaction.

"I wasn't…really dead," he struggled to explain, "Not yet. More like…well, sort of a Princess Bride kind of thing."

Dean and Sasha both blinked at Sam incredulously. "You mean you were only mostly dead," Sasha said with what Dean thought was actually a very comical expression.

"Well we've certainly seen enough nasties I'd consider ROUS's," Dean snarked.

Off to the side, Dean saw Attoinette and Charis make disgusted faces and he had to laugh. Then Epica was coming up beside them, pushing all three of them towards the nearest wall. "I'm sick of this 'who can help who stand longest' bullshit. Can we get you against a wall or something to sit down for a few minutes? Neither of you should be moving right now." She pushed at Sasha again, who knocked into Dean, who knocked into Sam, and they all had to re-steady themselves.

"Wall sounds good," Dean nodded, nudging Sam the direction Epica had pushed them. The other sex demons made way as Sam lead Dean over to the nearest wall with Sasha clutching at Dean's arm like he couldn't stand the thought of getting pulled away from him again, and Epica helping to make sure Sasha didn't stumble.

"But you can't fall asleep, Dean," Sam said sternly.

"No problem," Dean replied as Sam eased him down and helped him lean back, "You're going to keep me awake with that wonderful tale you were about to tell us." His hand went straight to Sasha's and gripped tight when Epica helped the incubus down next to him, but Dean kept his eyes trained on Sam.

The others all gathered in close, most still standing, though Epica stayed crouched like Sam was, bookending the two more severely battered of the trio.

Sam sighed, looking tight-lipped and troubled.

"Starting with how you went from mostly dead to a fully restored Dread Pirate Roberts. And if Billy Crystal is anywhere in that explanation I am punching you in the neck," Dean said, half serious. It would be just like Sam to continue to deflect.

Again Sam sighed, deeper this time, and his eyes danced around at their attentive audience before finally settling on Dean and Sasha. "I don't really know. Not for certain. But…I have an idea," Sam began, "See, I…I must have been right on the edge, point of no return kind of close to the end. Another minute like that and I never would have made it here. But before…before it was too late…someone brought me back."

"Someone?" Sasha questioned. His hand was trembling in Dean's, not from any fear, Dean knew, but from fatigue. Meg had purposely ridden him hard, just like with Sam, and being all bound together only to finally be separated through sheer force had to have been a crazy shock to his system.

Sam's eyes were darting again, trying to find a suitable place to rest. They looked so normal, Sam looked normal, but Dean had seen something awesomely terrifying in his brother only a few minutes ago and he wanted to know how it had come to be that way. He tried not to show the apprehension on his face. He wished he could just believe and enjoy that things were okay.

They were never that lucky.

"You're not going to want to hear this," Sam said in a quiet voice, glancing up briefly at Dean and ensuring that Dean's gut clenched with further nausea, "But…" Sam's eyes flicked away then up again, "I think it was…Malak. Maybe I'm wrong," he went right on, probably because Dean's expression had fallen to utter horror, "But I…I don't think so. I recognized his voice. His. The…male one."

The only thing keeping the contents of Dean's stomach at bay was in knowing that there were more questions to be asked. His hand trembled along with Sasha's and he squeezed tighter to still it. "What did he…Malak…say to you?" he asked.

Again, Sam's gaze drifted away. "He said…he said, 'Dean isn't ready yet'," Sam spoke softly.

"And then what?" Dean pressed.

Sam shifted uncomfortably, shrugging. "And then I woke up. Crazy headache from lack of oxygen, neck sore as hell and still feeling out of it from whatever Meg drugged me with. But I was alive. And all I could think about was finding where she had taken you and making her pay. She had no right to be you," Sam turned to Sasha, cringing as he noticed the slowly forming bruises on Sasha's cheek, "Sorry again about…" Sam gestured weakly to Sasha's face, "She just…made me so mad and…"

"It's okay," Sasha smiled, the expression not quite reaching his eyes but trying to, trying so hard to be real and heartfelt, "It hurt but…it hurt her too, so I was kinda okay with it."

A brief passing smile touched Sam's lips that was the perfect reflection of Sasha's, wanting to be real and honest but too overshadowed by remaining heartache and guilt.

If Sam was already feeling guilt then Dean didn't mind fueling the fire.

"So I just wanna be clear here," Dean broke into Sam and Sasha's quiet moment, "Malak somehow revives you, you wake up on the floor in pretty much the condition you were left in, and you just figure, why not, I might as well go back on the promise I made to Dean and vamp the fuck out."

Sam's eyes flashed with anger but they didn't change color, remaining that familiar brown and green. "I didn't go back on my promise," Sam said, "Dean, I had no idea where you were or what Meg was doing to you. I couldn't sense anything but the cave. I didn't even know where to start. I knew if I could just…tap into the power that's really inside of me—in me, Dean—that I'd know, that I'd be able to bypass the fucking cave's pull and track her down. But when I made the call, when I finally decided to throw aside that last barrier, I knew what I was doing. I was sure."

"You were desperate," Dean scowled.

"Yes," Sam shot right back, undeterred and angry, "I was. One of our old enemies who caused us enough pain the first time and rode me for a god damn week the last time we saw her had taken possession of our best friend. She had you, Dean, and you can't tell me that it wasn't just as bad as when it had been me, worse, to have to look at Sasha's face and know it was really Meg. I knew what I was doing. And I'd make the same call again. Does it look like the world ended? Do you not trust me now because I'm finally in control of all my powers?"

Well the bitching and whining certainly sounded like Sam. "So these…new powers," Dean tried to begin calmly, "They include some fast acting healing factor now?" he said, looking at Sam's un-bruised neck, "That mean you can also sense all the demons? Summon them? That you know your…purpose again?" That was the question Dean really wanted to ask. Sure, Sam wasn't acting like his cave version, at least not how Dean had feared when Sam was fighting Meg, but Sam had told Dean before that when the cave brought out his full power he understood his greater purpose.

The way Sam's eyes kept shifting away from Dean made him worry for a moment but then Sam was shaking his head. "It's…different. I feel like I…should know. Everything else, so much of it is just like before, but…I don't know. I think maybe Malak's keeping it from me. One last wall. Since…since…"

"Since I'm not ready yet," Dean sneered, hating that he obviously was destined to play some greater part in Sam's downfall. Dean remembered then, briefly, what Meg had said, that Sam wasn't as important as he seemed. But then what was? What were they destined to unravel?

"When you say…Malak. You're talking about the Devil…aren't you?" Charis' voice asked quietly when Sam and Dean remained silent for some time. The others all shuffled fearfully but none said anything in addition. It seemed the sex demons were all well aware of Malak as a sinister name, much as Sasha had been.

Dean chose a welcome comfort and used his free hand to scrub down his face before replying. "More than likely…yeah. FYI for those in mixed company who don't know I'm damned. Sold my soul, got only over a month left, yadda yadda, ask those who do know about it later. Right now…I'm not done asking questions."

He squeezed Sasha's hand a little tighter, kind of hating that he had to focus so much more on Sam right now when he knew his baby was tearing himself up inside.

"Sammy," Dean went on, "I'll go along with you still being you, just being that much further down the road you were already heading, but then you gotta tell me. You were pretty damn vicious against Meg. Now I understand why, I do. But Jesus, Sam, you could have killed Sasha when you ripped her out like that and you wouldn't even let me go to him." Pitiable as those words may have sounded, Dean's voice was strong and his tears had long since dried up.

Growing tired of holding a crouched position, Sam finally sat down against the wall next to Dean. His voice was strong too, firm but also gently as he explained. "Dean, other than the physical things I had to do to fight Meg, I didn't hurt Sasha when I tore her out. That's why I had to hold you back. If I lost concentration or you interfered, anything, I wouldn't have been able to hold it, and he might have died with her. I had to keep steady in order to separate them first. But I didn't hurt him. He didn't feel any of that."

Dean immediately looked to his other side at Sasha, who was smiling gently. The incubus nodded, a shaky thumb smoothing up and down the top of Dean's hand as Sasha held it. "She was screaming, Dean, not me. I think…my body went into shock when he finally got her out, but once she was gone and all the ties were severed, well…here I am," he shrugged.

Relief washed over Dean completely, not only because Sasha hadn't suffered quite as much as Dean had imagined, but because Sam hadn't inflicted it. The way things had looked from the outside, Dean had imagined a very different scenario for the trapped, possessed Sasha. "So…so it's okay," Dean said, a little amazed. He quirked a half smile at Sasha beside him. "You're really okay?"

Even though Sasha smiled brightly at Dean, he knew too well that look of sadness and despair that darkened Sasha's blue eyes. At least the incubus didn't try to lie about it. He said, "Not…one hundred percent, but…we're all still here, right? I did horrible things. She made me do horrible things," he quickly corrected when Dean opened his mouth to dissent, "But Sam's alive. You're alive. Everyone's…okay. And the bitch is dead, which has to be the best part in my opinion, so thanks, Sam," he tried to chuckle.

Sam returned the smile just as weakly but they weren't completely dismantled; a few of the important pieces were still in place. "How are you feeling now?" Sam asked, looking at both Sasha and Dean, "Can you make it to the car? I don't know how Meg got you here, Dean, but I took the Impala. It's outside. We should take you to a hospital."

"No," Dean shook his head, "No need for that shit, I'm fine." He attempted to prove that by releasing Sasha's hand finally and pushing up onto his feet. He waited for the inevitable nausea, and it was there, but he could keep tabs on it well enough and he no longer felt like he was going to pitch to the side and collapse again. "See?" he smiled down at his companions, "Just need rest. Bobby's gonna be here in a couple hours. Girls too. Gotta seal the cave and get our asses outta Dodge."

"You are not helping seal the cave," Sasha said sternly, a little more unsteady on his feet at first, but with Epica's help he got up and immediately reached to reconnect his hand with Dean's, "Bobby and the girls can handle it. The person behind this whole thing is dead so we don't have to worry about an ambush anymore. Maybe Sam is strong enough to go and help too. Or at least sense if there are other demons around, right, Sam?"

Before Sam could say anything, an idea suddenly struck Dean and made him weak with anxiety. "Sammy…you…you never answered me. You can't sense all the demons, can you? Like…all the ones from the Devil's Gate the way you could before?"

Sam's initial reaction was to bite his lip; never a good sign. Eventually, he nodded.

"Don't do it," Dean said right away.

"Don't do it?" Sam repeated.

"Don't summon them like before, thinking you can evaporate them all at once. I'm not letting you risk that. It's too dangerous. We can use your sensing to locate them. You wanna kill them instead of exorcizing, fine, long as the host is okay. But no summoning. Not unless we're getting so down to the wire we have no choice."

"Dean," Sam said with a furrowed brow, "We are down to the wire. It's almost the end of March."

"Then when it's May you can summon them."

"Dean."

"Sam, you promised me," Dean said with fire in his words, no thoughts on anything else, not even Sasha for a moment as he looked at his brother, "You promised you'd listen. You really brought down that barrier knowing you could handle it, okay, I believe you. You didn't go back on your word. So don't start now. You want summoning as a failsafe, fine, but we can get them without that. You know how many there are?"

After a slight pause where Sam looked both annoyed and slightly ashamed, he once again nodded.

"It doable?" Dean asked, feeling a little tense at the question.

Again, Sam nodded.

That was all Dean needed to know. "Then it's settled. Summoning doesn't…well it doesn't do anyone any good." Dean nodded his head subtly at the gathered incubi and succubae. "We should…probably tell them. Not exactly a nice thing to have bite us in the ass later."

"Tell them what?" Sasha asked, red brow furrowed now since he hadn't actually noticed that particular detail about the summoned creatures when it happened.

Sam was already biting his lip again, his eyes glancing around at the now extremely curious sex demons. Considering, however, that Sam did not toss Dean a death glare before beginning to explain, Dean stuck to his belief that it would be better to tell the truth. "Right. So…uhh, well…see there's this cave system outside of town…" Sam began.

The tall hunter went on to explain what had happened the day before, quite succinctly actually, which also helped wrap up for the sex demons how things had led to this warehouse tonight. None of them seemed upset after hearing Sam's explanation of his unintentional summoning of them, the only real response being Cam's, "Huh. Guess that explains the lost time and why that chick started yelling at me suddenly," to which the twins giggled and Charis and Lindsey shook their heads.

It seemed that given the night's events and having witnessed first hand the lengths the Winchester brothers would go to save Sasha, the incubi and succubae were willing to overlook such a minor and uncontrollable transgression. No one had gotten hurt—Cam's pride aside—and as long as Sam promised to never do that again while in his right mind they were willing to forget all about it. The fact that none of them actually remembered it definitely helped.

Dean figured they were probably being extra accommodating because they had basically almost fucked all of them over, but he didn't mention that; he knew when to count his blessings. Sam seemed sane, Sasha wasn't possessed anymore, and both of them were breathing.

It was decided that Dean and Sasha were well enough to be brought back to the hotel, much as Sam and Sasha chastised Dean a little more that it might be better if he went to the hospital. The sex squad insisted that they would at least stay long enough to be sure Bobby and the girls returned safely.

As they were heading out the door, Dean walking mostly on his own power save Sam's hand annoyingly on his back, he turned to Sasha walking next to him, supported now by Lindsey who had taken Epica's place. "Hey, one thing," Dean said, stopping in his tracks.

Sasha stopped too and looked at Dean expectantly. There was turmoil in those blue eyes that Sasha wasn't sharing yet. Dean would make it his mission for the rest of the night and their lives to keep those eyes forever bright and glorious.

"Just forgot something," Dean shrugged. Then he took the single step necessary to be all in Sasha's space, hooked the back of Sasha's neck with his hand and drew the incubus down for a deep, slow kiss. This was classic PDA seeing as how they had an audience of six, but Dean didn't care. He needed to kiss Sasha. Sasha. The soft lips so perfectly fit to his own, that demanding tongue exploring his mouth, and the way Sasha reached up and clutched at Dean's shirt for support as their lips moved against each other and they hummed in harmony.

A great exhaled breath came from Sasha when they pulled apart, the redhead flushing close to the color of his hair and smiling even with all that sadness still marring the perfection of it. It wasn't just that Dean needed to kiss Sasha; Sasha had needed that too.

"I hate when I forget things like that," Dean grinned, licking his lips and staying pulled in close to Sasha for a minute. He could see Lindsey just beyond Sasha, caught somewhere between bug-eyed, scowling, and almost looking like he might smile. Then Dean focused on Sasha again, who looked like he might start sobbing for how the incubus' eyes welled with tears and he gasped like he wanted to say something but never got around to forming words.

"Ahem," interrupted Charis, who was actually very good at that—subtle and not at all haughty sounding, especially since she also sounded like she was smiling.

"So…what were you thinking for a more permanent solution to the charms, Sasha?" Sam asked, smirk in place but smartly avoiding any teasing remarks as they all began to make for the doors again.

Sasha kept a small smile, the expression still a little flat, but there was mischievousness there too that made Dean feel much better when Sasha said, "Just, uhh…hear me out on this, okay?"

"No chance in Hell. How many ways can I possibly say this," Dean said as they arrived back at the motel and went to the room they had been using as their common room, usually considered Sasha and Dean's, "No force on Earth is getting me inside a tattoo parlor unless it's to see some guy tattoo my name next to that clover on your ass." He shot a finger pointedly at Sasha as the two of them were helped over to the nearest bed and sat down on it. They didn't need to be quite that fussed over but they had allowed Sam and Cam—Dean still really hated that—to finish their supposed brotherly duties.

Dean had long since accepted that while he only had the overbearing Sam Winchester as baby brother, Sasha's siblings included the entirety of the sex squad who had accompanied them back to the motel. All of them seemed to have some deep-seated need to take turns taking care of his incubus.

The actual root of Dean's possessiveness went far beyond dark pheromones, he realized.

"Clover?" Cam commented, raising an eyebrow at Sasha, "Dude, you have a frickin' four-leaf clover on your ass?"

Sasha shot Dean a mock-murderous look that for a moment made him seem entirely like his normal self. "You were sworn to secrecy, you bastard," he tried not to grin.

"You can punish me later," Dean replied with a waggled eyebrow, "But can we think of a less scarring way of keeping demons out of these sexy bodies. Please."

"Sasha does have a point," Sam shrugged. He was at the table, firing up his laptop that had remained in the main room even though Sam had slept in the other one last night. He didn't need to look anything up at the moment; it was just habit. He had already called Bobby and the girls for their ETA's and it seemed the group had a while yet until they would have company. What Sam didn't go into with either Bobby or the girls was the past few hours. They could explain that in person.

"Dude," Dean said, holding up a hand to stop Sam's thought process, "No tattoos. My body is a temple."

Sam snorted. "Since when."

The gathered sex demons all snickered, but before Dean could send any snarky comments back at his brother, he noticed that Sasha's guise of wellness was starting to slip again. He thought maybe it had something to do with him scoffing at tattoos, so he figured it couldn't hurt to add, "Hey, you know I love your tats, baby. Sexy as hell. And natural. That's my whole point. I got enough foreign marks on my body. The clover, by the way, is exempt coz I think its kinda kinky. Shut up," he said immediately to Cam, who, in his defense, only looked slightly like he might have commented.

"Fine," Sam smiled and shook his head, probably filing the idea away to be brought up again later, "But we have some time yet. I know it's really late. You all don't really have to stay, you know. We can handle things from here."

"It's not about having to, Sam," Epica said beside him, sitting at the table along with her sister and Charis. Lindsey was standing just behind his wife, hand rubbing her neck in a way that seemed entirely unconscious, and Cam was still hovering near Sasha and Dean on the bed. They made quite a crew, and there were still three yet to show up.

Charis smiled across the table at Sam much like Epica had. "It just wouldn't seem right to leave. Everything that happened, well…it's still very much wrapped up in this cave you told us about. We'd all feel better knowing it was taken care of before we left, even if the demon behind it is dead. And even if we won't be able to go along to help."

"You were…really something else back there, Sam," Attoinette chimed in softly. Her long blonde hair in contrast to her sister's choppy bob spiraled around her shoulders in ringlets. "Eppy and I never got to see what your powers could do until tonight. It was…crazy awesome."

Sam smiled humbly, not wanting the attention nor knowing how to respond to it, which again reminded Dean that Sam had to be okay. He was powerful enough that if he really had crossed over to the dark side, he wouldn't need to keep up any ruse.

Then Lindsey opened his mouth and ruined the quiet contemplation.

"What are you?" he asked plainly, not bothering to censor his slightly fearful and troubled expression as he looked down at Sam from his place behind Charis.

"Lindsey," she reprimanded right away.

"I'm sorry, but I'm an incubus in the lion's den, as it were," Lindsey gestured to the hotel room, "And I think I have the right to ask." He turned to Sam again, clearly struggling to remain calm and not come across as if he saw Sam as anything monstrous. Dean understood the difficulty. "The things we've seen you do…you stopped a kid's heart and started it again. You…obliterated that demon. I know of nothing human, psychic or otherwise that should be capable of that."

That was true enough. No research they ever dug into in regards to what Sam was ever dredged up anything even remotely similar. They usually just said he was demon-infected or demon-triggered and left it at that.

Sam had mentioned more than once that it would be interesting to get an MRI and see how many usually dormant brain cells were active for him. It didn't make him less human in that regard. Just different. New. Or maybe Dean just kept telling himself that because it was easier. Because he couldn't stand to think that his brother might one day switch on like a god damn robot just because the Devil wanted him to, and nothing would ever be the same.

"It's…complicated," Sam said.

"Saying it's complicated is just a way of avoiding the question," Lindsey replied evenly.

Sam sighed. "Or it's the only answer I can give you…because I don't have another one. We don't really…know. All my abilities, they came from a demon, a powerful one, and the more I use them, the stronger I become. It's all demonic, all wrapped up in demonic things. That's why I can't stop even with all we don't know. If I can use my powers to help save Dean from Hell then it's worth any risk."

There went that diehard Winchester martyrdom again. "Hey," Dean interrupted, because he didn't need to hear this right now, "I'm with you, Sammy, pissed as you can make me for being so damn gung-ho about all this, but right now all I can think about is taking a long hot shower and trying to get some rest before Bobby and the girls get here. No offense meant to our company, but I think I'll go to the other room for a bit." Dean stood painfully, hating how sore he felt pretty much everywhere. He was still able to stand, keep his lunch down, and cast a hinting gaze at Sasha before he started to make for the door.

"I'll come with you," Sasha called after him, standing and smiling maybe a little strained when Dean turned back, "We…both need the rest. But I don't want to put any of you out. We'll be okay in the other room. Sam, will you let us know when the others get here?"

Sam nodded, a tight smile playing at his lips as well. He wouldn't say anything against them leaving, and Dean was pleased that none of the others did either. It felt a little mean leaving Sam to the whole sex squad, but Dean needed to get Sasha alone. The redhead would never admit to just how wrecked he was in front of his friends, all gathered and watching over him like that. It seemed they understood that as much as Sam and Dean did, and Dean was grateful.

There had also been a brief moment there where Dean wondered if Sasha would let him go and not take the hint, more than likely on purpose. Sasha had to know what was coming. Dean had already shaken off his own fallout from this; the only therapy he needed was being able to make Sasha's smile real again.

They went into Sam's room, not having spoken during the short trip down the hallway. Dean's things were still in this room but he had no intention of showing just yet. It's not as if he needed the med-kit either. The whole of their injury list was bruises.

It almost made Dean smirk that when he opened the door the first thing he noticed was Sam's bottle of Ibuprofen on the floor next to the water bottle he himself had brought over. Then it struck Dean how not funny that was because the room was just as they had left it. The sheets on Sam's bed were rumbled from activity and various other things were strewn about the room from the fight. It made Dean want to usher Sasha right out again.

But it was too late for that; Sasha sighed deeply as he entered after Dean, shut the door behind them. He looked for a moment at the mess his body had helped make. "Go ahead and shower, Dean," the incubus said in a bland, controlled voice, "I can…pick up. I might take a shower later. I'm not…all that tired."

"Then why'd you come with me?" Dean asked, stopping Sasha with a hand on the redhead's arm to keep him from actually picking anything up, "Just to make sure I wasn't a dumbass and slipped in the shower? It's not a full-blown concussion. I'm fine. See." Dean grinned cheekily, all teeth, hoping to get Sasha to laugh—really laugh.

The corners of Sasha's mouth stretched, seemingly like a smile but the expression wasn't right. Dean could feel the tidal wave coming but Sasha was fighting it, still trying to ignore it and refusing to be bowled over. "I…I know. Just…didn't like the idea of you over here alone. The way things have been lately, do that and I might as well just hang a sign on you that says, 'Please take my Winchester'." A laugh followed the joke, but not the laugh Dean had been hoping for. Now that they were alone Sasha's ability to feign being okay was slipping quickly.

"Baby…" Dean tried, seeing the way Sasha's eyes were swimming and yet his face was holding like stone. Dean gently squeezed Sasha's arm but Sasha pulled away, snatching up the Ibuprofen and water from the floor.

"You should take a few of these, for the headache and the bruising," Sasha said, even though he was walking away from Dean and setting the pills and water on the nearest nightstand when he could have just as easily handed them to Dean.

Dean couldn't allow that, the easy avoidance. He followed after Sasha and grabbed Sasha's arm again. His hand closed over the hole Sam had left in Sasha's jacket, the charred skin already healed perfectly. "Sasha," he said more firmly.

"Don't."

"Don't what?" Dean threw right back, squeezing tighter, trying to see around Sasha's body where the incubus was hiding his face, "Don't want an honest expression or word from you right now? Sorry, but this is a two-way street, remember? You don't get to pester me about this kinda shit if I can't do the same in return. Now look at me. Talk to me. I know you're still thinking about her. I know you're still beating yourself up over nothing."

"Nothing?" Sasha practically snapped, whipping around suddenly to show Dean red eyes; not the red irises Dean loved, but blue eyes made red from holding back tears. They were falling slowly since Sasha refused to give into them. "It's not nothing, Dean," he said, shaking his head furiously and yanking his arm from Dean's tight grip, "You…you think this was like normal possession? You know it wasn't. Nothing about it was…normal. I can't just…say it was her…and be okay. I'm sorry, I…" Sasha looked stricken then, ashamed, his anger melting as his tears fell more steadily and he gripped Dean's shirt like he had when they kissed in the warehouse.

Somewhere Dean had missed an important detail and it was rearing its head now, mocking him for not understanding. "Sasha…what are you saying? Not normal, okay, I got that. She basically had to force her way in even with that demonic signature deal, but…but what are you trying to tell me?"

Sasha shook his head and Dean thought maybe the incubus wouldn't respond, and then he was whispering, "She…said it. She told you so many times," he sobbed, just clutching at Dean and holding close, their foreheads almost touching but not quite, "All wrapped up, coiled, linked, fused together. She…she wasn't just…controlling me, Dean. I was there too…for everything. Possession, normal possession, most of the time the host body isn't aware at all—blank space, lost time. Sometimes, they're aware for some of it. But never all. Never full…" he choked on a fresh sob, the tidal wave upon him now, "Never everything. I saw…felt…everything…"

And it had felt as if it was him doing those awful things, not her, not Meg, just him. Dean didn't need Sasha to confess that to understand that that was what his lover was trying to tell him. It filled Dean with fresh hatred for that damn demon.

"It felt like I was…letting her. Like I should have been able to do something, Dean, but I…I couldn't. I let her…touch you. I let her…I…let her…" Sasha's face twisted as he lost himself to his tears, falling forward against Dean so that his hand on Dean's shirt became wedged between them and his wet face pressed to the crook of Dean's neck.

Dean's arms wrapped instantly around Sasha. He knew the word Sasha couldn't say next in that sentence, a word he also hated. But that hadn't been what happened; Dean had been unknowledgeable not unwilling. He wasn't sure if there was a right way to explain that though. "Sasha…you didn't let her do anything," he said, "I can't imagine how it felt for you but…but it doesn't matter what she did or what she made you do. She didn't get what she wanted. It's over."

"I…I'm so sorry, Dean," Sasha whimpered, the words muffled against Dean's skin. The incubus felt so frail, so weak and bodily exhausted in Dean's arms. "You're the one she…did that to. You're the one who got hurt, who had to see all that," Sasha spoke as if he was apologizing for getting so upset when only Dean was the one who had that right.

It was almost laughable, because Dean could never see things that way. "Yeah," he breathed against Sasha's silky hair, "Seeing you macking on Sammy was torture. We're gonna need to have some crazy kinky wild sex to make up for that."

Sasha seemed to choke on another sob then only this time it was more like a chuckle. "Dean," he said through sniffles, "How can you make jokes about this already?"

"Eh, it's a gift," Dean shrugged.

Another combination of chuckling sniffles. "The only way I got through it," Sasha said, more pleased really than heartbroken right then, "Was because you never doubted me. You knew it wasn't me, Dean. You knew."

Suddenly, all the humor dripped out of Dean and he felt like he had been punched in the gut. "But…I didn't know," he said forlornly, squeezing Sasha tighter against him, "That night…all day, god, I…I should have been able to tell, but I couldn't. Baby, I'm so sorry."

"No," came Sasha's voice right away. The incubus pulled back, both hands clinging to Dean's shirts now and twisting the fabric. His eyes were swollen from crying. "No, Dean. You knew. You knew when it mattered. When she was being me, in my head and apart of me, that was different. But as soon as she did something you knew I could never do, you didn't doubt me for a second. You knew it had to be someone else. I was so thankful then, Dean. Really." At last Sasha's forehead fell against Dean's, resting there.

That felt right. Not the sharing blame and shedding of tears part—therapeutic as that may be—but just leaning into each other, supporting each other without trying, Sasha clinging and Dean holding. "Well…of all the things I could never imagine you doing, baby, Sam is definitely on the top of that list," Dean grinned.

Again Sasha laughed, the way he was supposed to, real. "When he finally ripped her out of me…I just wanted to cry in your arms for the rest of the night," Sasha admitted with a great exhaled breath.

"You still can. If you need to. Course I will have to rib you for it mercilessly in the morning, but I'll give you a free pass til then."

"Heh. Jerk," Sasha said lovingly.

Dean had to bite his lip to keep from saying his customary 'bitch' in reply, tempted as he was.

"I just…don't want to think anymore about how close of a call it was," Sasha went on, his voice falling sway to breathless sorrow again so quickly, "That night…she would have killed you if it hadn't been for the pheromones messing up her plans. I was terrified the whole time. Then with Sam, if he hadn't been able to fight back the way he did, she would have…god, right in front of you…"

"Ooo-kay," Dean happily interrupted, gripping Sasha's shoulders so he could hold the incubus out in front of him, "I don't need to remember either. It's over. It's done. And we're here. So why don't we take that shower, huh? Together. Then we can catch a few winks before Bobby and the girls get here. We deserve the R&R. We deserve a shit-ton more than we're gonna get, but I'll take whatever's offered," Dean grinned, staring up into those blue eyes that were finally starting to rediscover some of their brilliance.

Despite the sparkle in those eyes, however, there was a shadow that crossed Sasha's face before he spoke. "Dean…I…I don't know if that's…such a good idea."

"Baby, I'm sore as Hell, and half the time the room's still spinning. I'm not exactly up for sex," Dean explained with a crooked smirk, "Now, once we're in the shower a certain part of my anatomy might disagree with that, but it's not what I'm looking for. Doesn't mean I want this to be the beginning of a trend though either. I don't want you ever afraid of being with me. You'd never hurt me. Like you said yourself, I don't doubt you, Sasha. Never could. And I don't plan on needing three frickin' weeks or some other ridiculous amount to get over ourselves this time. Fuck Meg. In my head, I was with you last night. And fuck emotional fallout too coz I refuse to let that bitch get to me after she's dead."

Sudden, easy laughter spilled from Sasha's lips. "Good," he smiled with more resolve and confidence than Dean had seen from the incubus in too long, "So…does that mean you'll get the protection tattoo?"

Dean frowned. "Did I say that? Coz that certainly didn't sound like the words that came out of my mouth." Dean dropped his arms and tried to step back so he could scowl at Sasha properly, but the incubus immediately moved back into Dean's body.

"Ease my mind, Dean. Please. It could be right here." Sasha gently touched the pads of his fingers to the fabric covering Dean's heart.

"It'd cover up your scar," Dean said, thinking of Sasha having the same tattoo, which was the plan.

"That was kinda the idea," said the redhead. For the protection spell to work at its best it was supposed to be placed over the heart.

"But I like your scar," Dean said, reaching out to touch Sasha's heart in kind.

"Then it could be something just for us. A mark like I have on you," Sasha said, "Claiming me as yours."

"And Sam's," Dean grimaced, since the real idea was that Sam would get the tattoo too.

It was Sasha's turn to frown. "Never Sam's," he said with great weight punctuating each word.

That lifted a small weight from Dean's chest; maybe that was all he had needed to hear. Fuck emotional fallout. Right. "You realize that matching tattoos is…pretty gay," Dean said as matter-of-factly as he could manage without smirking.

"Would you like me to make a list of all the exceedingly gay things we've done?"

Dean was seriously tempted to say, 'yes, please, and in detail'. "I'll think about it," he conceded instead, meaning the tattoo not the list. He managed to free his hand and carefully pushed Sasha's jacket off the incubus' shoulders, "Yet another ruined jacket, baby. You're gonna run out of clothes soon."

"You wish," Sasha smiled.

"Every day. Shower?" Dean said in a tone that he would never admit sounded needy. He insinuated his fingers between Sasha's jeans and the hem of the incubus' shirt, pawing lightly at bare skin. It was all intimacy, not sex. It didn't have to be about sex.

Even when they finally reached the shower, having left a trail of discarded clothing behind them, the touches each of them gave between actually showering and enjoying the hot water were light, comforting, intimate, but not foreplay. It was strangely even more erotic that way and indeed a certain extremity of both Dean and Sasha's assumed other things would eventually happen, but not tonight.

They stole clothes from Sam's bag that were baggy and comfortable, curled up in Sam's bed without either having to say why they just couldn't sleep in the one Meg had seduced Dean in, and fell into easy sleep.

It felt like they had only been asleep a few minutes when Sam knocked gently on their door and was soon walking up to the bed. Dean was awake enough that he noticed Sam before the tall giant could startle him. He had been spooning Sasha close, the incubus curled into a smaller version of himself that fit perfectly back against Dean's chest.

Dean looked up at Sam without an ounce of shame at being found that way; Sam was used to it after all. "Hey…Bobby and the girls here?" Dean whispered since Sasha was still sleeping peacefully.

"The girls are," Sam said, also whispering, "They're introducing themselves to the others. Bobby's not far."

"Everything okay with the sex demons and extra hunters showing up?"

Sam cracked a smile. "Seems like a double standard actually. None of them are nearly as antsy around the girls as they were with us. If only they knew them like we do, huh?"

"Got that right," Dean smirked. He looked at Sasha, the redhead's chest rising and falling evenly. "I'll wake him and see how he's doing. We'll be over in a bit."

"What about you? You okay? How's your head?" Sam was already reaching for Dean like he meant to check for a fever.

Dean was sorely tempted to swat that hand away but given recent events and fatigue—he could definitely blame fatigue—he allowed Sam the habitual gesture for at least a few moments before he batted his brother away. "I'm fine," Dean insisted, "Shower and rest did me good. Told you it was the send you home kind of concussion."

"Right." It continually impressed Dean how Sam could wear a combination of the puppy eyes and bitch-face so flawlessly. "Well, your jaw's still bruised and even more swollen. You should have iced that," he said, combating Dean's insistence that he was okay with a reason that he wasn't.

Talking was enough for Dean to realize that his jaw was indeed sore, though at least his head wasn't throbbing anymore. "Yeah, yeah, I'll ice it as soon as we join you. I'll get some from the machine on our way over, okay? Anything else, Mom?"

Sam scowled but Dean could see the hint of a smile hiding in the expression, especially when Sam's eyes landed tenderly on Sasha before he left. Dean had always known it was a Winchester trait and not solely a Dean trait that being happiest meant knowing that the others around you were okay.

Waking Sasha proved to be more difficult than Dean would have guessed, though he should have known better since Sam had slept deeper for weeks after Meg possessed him. Metaphysical recovery through physical rest, he had said. Know-it-all.

Dean finally roused Sasha by spooning him again, holding tight around the incubus' waist, and kissing the back of his neck. The action also dug Dean's nose into the ends of Sasha's still somewhat damp red hair. Dean breathed in deeply and Sasha shuddered.

"Bobby…?" Sasha asked groggily, not moving.

"Uh, no. Dean. There something you need to tell me?" Dean snarked.

Sasha laughed in a way that was entirely exhaled air, but it was genuine. "Is Bobby here?" he reiterated.

"Almost. Girls are making nice next door. You can go back to sleep if you want."

"No. I'm okay. We should go."

"You sure?"

Sasha turned in Dean's arms just enough so that he could look Dean in the eyes, like it was all the reassurance he needed. He smiled. "I'm sure."

True to his word, Dean filled a bucket with ice on their way over and wrapped it in a cloth to apply to his face, something he wasn't quite able to finish doing until Jo and Sarah stopped hugging them. Dean would almost have assumed Sam exaggerated when explaining what had happened over the past few hours, but he knew the girls would have reacted the same regardless.

He and Sasha hadn't changed out of Sam's borrowed clothes, to which Sam gave them curious, grinning looks. But as Dean had put it, they were comfy and recovering and what did he care if practically everyone he knew saw him and Sasha barefoot and in sweats.

As they waited for Bobby, Jo expressed extreme resentment that she hadn't been present to witness Meg's destruction, having a rather personal grudge against the she-demon after all. It seemed that Sam had decided he did have things to look up on his computer after all, since he wanted to plot the best route for systematically wiping out the demons he could now sense like second nature. Sarah sat with him, the two of them talking hushed, probably about Sam's recent upgrade.

At first Dean thought that the presence of Sarah might attract scorn or jealousy from the twins, but he was way off. Epica and Attoinette both seemed to be cooing over the not-quite couple and eventually joined them at the table to chat. Dean had to remind himself the kind of incubus Sasha was. Always kind and giving and whatever his prey needed at the time. But in order to better that other person not himself. Sasha had waited for Dean before he claimed something just for him.

Apparently, the twins were the same, and thought of their role as being meant to safely see the people they fed from down the path to the person they were meant to be with. Match-making thus ensued.

The whole situation had Dean chuckling though maybe not quite as much as Cam's attempts to hit on Jo.

When Bobby finally arrived it was with a sharp knock, several bags over his shoulders, and a raised eyebrow he tossed around the room before saying, "You boys have anything you need to fill me in on?" That of course meant that the first thing they did was explain to Bobby everything just as Sam had explained to the girls.

Bobby—no surprise really—had the sex demons acting apprehensive and twitchy again, he being more the stereotype of the hardened, gritty hunter. They all soon realized though that that was often more appearance than personality, and before long Bobby even had Lindsey laughing at stories of young, fumbling hunter Sasha. Once Bobby mentioned that he had known Sasha was an incubus since the kid was sixteen, the sex squad was sold.

After working out the details of the ritual to seal the mine, Sam assured everyone that he could handle getting near the cave with his newfound control and wanted to join Bobby and the girls for the task. After they left, the incubi and succubae said their goodbyes as well, having their own lives to get back to. They hadn't had time to make any headway on getting Sasha un-banished from the fae plane, but as much as they wanted to return to working on that they also wanted to offer their help to Dean's cause should they ever be needed.

"All you have to do is call," Lindsey said, shaking Dean's hand while Charis looked on approvingly, "We'll come."

Part of Dean immediately wanted to confess to Lindsey their father's secret, a truth he felt he owed the white-haired incubus, but now wasn't the time. It would sneak upon them unexpectedly, he knew, someday. He just hoped that when that time came Lindsey understood.

Soon it was just Sasha and Dean, lying on their actual bed this time, waiting for the others to return. Sasha fell asleep again, curled in towards Dean like a cat nuzzling for warmth. It was warm, deep inside Dean's gut where he was usually worrying. He had made sure the fallout was minimal but he still felt as though something was haunting them. Something was, of course. Someone.

Malak.

"What do you want now?" Dean asked quietly, even though he knew Sasha was completely out of it. He spoke before he even glanced up and saw Malak's male version standing off the foot of the bed.

The well-coifed hair, the perfectly tailored suit, the charming and sinister smile—it was all there. Malak's eyes were blue like the female version had worn earlier. "I was going to say well done, but if you're going to get snippy about it," he mocked.

Dean shifted so that he was somewhat sitting up but still had Sasha cradled against him. "I didn't do anything," he frowned.

"Ah, but if you hadn't been there things wouldn't have turned out at all the way they did."

More cryptic bullshit, Dean thought. Maybe. He wasn't sure how to respond. "I should have known Meg would come after us again," he said instead. He had been thinking that for hours, believing it even without the addition of Malak's prior warnings.

"Yes," Malak nodded casually, "I really hoped you would figure it out. But all for the better."

That made Dean frown deeper and he wanted to get up, get right in Malak's face, but he didn't want to risk disturbing Sasha. "She said Sam's not the most important thing," he said with a narrowed brow, "Just what the hell does that mean?"

"Sam is…an important aspect. But you needn't worry about that yet."

"Yet?"

"Dean," he said so simply and yet the steady utterance of Dean's name made him instantly quiet, "She said something else to you. Something important. Arrogant. But important. Figure out that and you may just find your answers. But not before the end, I think. Time. Is. Ticking," he said, reaching into his pocket and producing a gleaming plain silver pocket watch. He opened it. Looked at the time. Grinned. "Tick. Tock."

Dean snarled. "Sam will find all of your demons," he said assuredly. He truly believed that now.

"Oh? Will he? We'll have to wait and see."

Then as was the demon's custom, his image rippled and he was gone. Dean tried to think of what other important thing Meg might have said to him that could give him hints as to what Malak's true plan was, but he was too weary tonight. He stayed awake only because he wanted to know for sure that the mine was sealed before he slept.

Sam and the others returned late but well enough, at least they looked well from what Dean could see out the window. They went off to bed immediately, Bobby to Sam's room probably as he had the extra space now. All of them more than likely assumed that both Dean and Sasha were out cold. Sam didn't go inside with the others though. He stayed out by the Impala just leaning against the driver's side door and looking up, maybe at the stars.

Dean threw on his shoes and his leather and went out to join him. Sam didn't even turn to acknowledge when Dean first leaned back beside him, only scarce inches apart; he didn't need to. After a few minutes Dean bucked Sam with his shoulder and said, "We good?"

"Well…the mine's sealed," Sam chuckled, "I think we'll be okay." Both of them were still staring out ahead and slightly up.

Dean bucked Sam with his shoulder again. "And what have we learned from this little excursion?" he asked ironically.

Sam thought for a moment. Nodded to himself. "Sasha is a really good kisser."

It took Dean far too many seconds to fully register what Sam just said. Seconds after that he was pummeling his now laughing baby brother and hooking him into a headlock. "Not funny!" Dean growled, merciless with his tight hold.

"Then why are you smiling!" Sam chuckled right back, gasping and struggling but not enough to get out of Dean's arms.

Smartass. Dean was not smiling. And he wasn't a few seconds away from laughing along with his brother either. "Shut up. Oversized freak," Dean grumbled, ruffling Sam's hair good and hard before finally releasing him. Okay, maybe Dean was smiling and laughing a little. So what. "I meant, you jackass, the all purposeful lesson that your older brother is always right so you should listen to him. Knew something was wrong with this place from the start. Also knew…you'd make the right decision when the time came." His words finished more serious, quiet, but he still accentuated them by bucking Sam yet again in the shoulder.

That boyish, dimpled grin responded, faded a little and then Sam said, "You really think it was the right decision?" not sounding scared or unsure really, just curious.

"You feel all those demons out there, Sammy?" Dean asked, looking out and up again where there were millions of dots of light in the sky, stars undimmed by being too close to a large city.

"I feel them," Sam said softly beside him.

"Good. Coz we're gonna get 'em. All of 'em. Sound good to you?"

"Long as you don't ride my ass the whole time. Jerk," Sam said as easily as if they were still teenagers and not quite as jaded as they had become over recent years.

"Bring it, bitch," Dean smirked right back, "I'm ready."

Dean took a deep breath then, looked up at the stars and felt sure, really sure for the first time that they could do this, Malak be damned. Literally. Then Dean's smile faded and he cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"So, umm…about this tattoo thing."

THE END...of Arc 7...to be continued right here with...ARC 8: DEMONS!

A/N: Sorry for the delay this week. I didn't plan well what with the moving and not having internet. Still don't. Had to work around going to Panera and writing more at work. My bad! Anyway, here's your clean-up chapter for the holidays. I'm sure it won't be until next week that I'll have the first part of the next arc up, but I am very excited for it as it is the most recent winner, Zibila's request for being reviewer 800. And ironically, review 900 should come from this chapter, so whoever you are, you will also get a request.

P.S: I hate Anna. And I had begun to like her so. And disliking her had nothing to do with the Impala scene but rather her true identity. I cannot wait until January. On the plus side it should mean I am less distracted by DeanxCastiel fics and will write more. :-)

If you celebrate it, Have a Happy Thanksgiving! Love you all!

Crimson