Part 8: The Grass Isn't Always Greener

Today was not a good day.

Dean ran out of the bedroom and through the apartment as fast as he could get his legs to move. He didn't slow down even when he burst from the main door into the hallway, passing Sam and the confused victim who was still wrapped up in the sheet from her bed. There wasn't time for explanations. Dean yelled, "Come on!" and expected Sam to follow. Naturally, Sam did, without giving the victim, or the few people who had begun to stick their noses out from behind their doors, any explanation either.

The panicked pace Dean had taken on did not stop Sam from demanding his own explanation, however, as they made their way down the stairs to the ground floor. "What happened! What are we doing?"

"Battlefield moved!" Dean shouted in answer.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that the only way out of the apartment besides the main door was out one of the windows. "We're six stories up!" Sam said, half horrified and half amazed that Sasha and the succubus just went flying out a window from that kind of height.

Dean bounded down the last set of stairs that would lead them to the door they came in and right out into the alley where Sasha and the succubus would have landed. He didn't bother looking at Sam who was right behind him. Really, he didn't need to see his brother's reaction to guess what it would look like. "There's…a couple other things," he said, a little softer and out of breath.

"Other things?"

"Yeah…" Dean grabbed the knob to the outside door and pushed, gun at the ready. "They're in all their glory out there, so be ready. And…the succubus…is Sasha's other aunt." And without offering Sam any more than that, or any time to think about what he had said, Dean ran out into the alley to join the fight.

At first Dean couldn't see anything. The alley was dark despite the time, the sun having set long ago, but there were only so many places two gargoyle-like creatures could be hiding.

Dean felt Sam exit into the alley behind him and they waited. Suddenly, Sam gave a great shout and pulled Dean back against the wall.

"Look out!"

A twinge of pain swept through Dean's shoulder at the unexpected impact into brick, but he was mighty thankful his brother's reflexes had been better than his own just then. Sasha and the succubus came tumbling down out of the air above them and crashed into the alley's cement ground. For a moment Dean wondered about the delayed reaction—could they really have run fast enough to beat the pair to the ground?—but as incubus and succubus reared up again, Dean understood. This wasn't just a ground fight. They had wings, for Christ's sake.

Apparently neither the sight of the two of them transformed nor the news that they were dealing with Sasha's aunt was enough to deter Sam from helping, which Dean was very grateful for, because Sam drew an iron knife from inside his jacket and raced towards the succubus before she could get too far off the ground.

Sasha was still getting to his feet—or, taloned hoof things, since Dean didn't think they looked much like feet anymore—but the succubus wasn't foolish enough to only notice her downed nephew. She saw Sam coming, heard him maybe, and wheeled around, hovering a few feet above the ground. As Sam moved to strike she dove, plowing Sam to the ground and knocking the knife clean out of his tight grip. Dean watched the knife fly through the air and then slide its way beneath the alley's dumpster.

Perfect.

Dean's first thought was to take aim and just fire. He had two guns on him now since he had the foresight to grab Sasha's before racing from the apartment, but with the succubus so close to Sam, Dean wasn't sure he had a clear shot.

The succubus rose up above Sam, perhaps debating whether to finish the puny little human off, Dean figured, but she hadn't noticed that Sasha was recovered. He leapt into the air as well, ramming into her and sending them both soaring right over Sam to hit the ground several feet away.

This alley was not big enough for this fight, Dean thought, especially during rush hour in downtown Minneapolis. Sure, they were hidden from the street, and hopefully none of the occupants of the apartment building would be looking down, but there was always a chance.

Dean needed to get in there. At his current distance it was even harder to gage a good shot with how Sasha and the succubus tussled. Half the time Dean couldn't even tell whose wings were whose. There were iron bullets in his gun, damn it. He couldn't risk hitting Sasha. Of course, by the looks of things Sasha wasn't fairing very well on his own.

As Dean began to move towards the grappling pair, he saw out of the corner of his eyes that Sam was up and searching for his knife. Dean gave a quick yell about where he had seen it fly, and then went running. He couldn't wait for Sammy. Not this time. Sasha and the succubus were still on the ground fighting viciously. The sight of it almost made Dean stop, and he felt a tremble working its way up his arms. He shook his head and pushed that feeling away. Dean Winchester did not get scared. He did not hesitate. And he did not fucking freak out when a friend needed him

A friend. For a moment Dean wondered if he could ever remember a time when a friend needed him. Dad, sure. Sammy. Bobby, maybe, but he was more like a father figure too, just like with Jo needing him but sure as hell feeling more like a sister than a friend. Really, if Dean thought about it, he didn't have…any friends. In fact, he didn't think he'd ever really had one. There was never time. Never a chance.

So if Sasha was in trouble, even if he was growling like a fucking vampire, with practically glowing red eyes, horns, and a body straight out of that Disney's gargoyle cartoon, Dean was going to damn well get in there and help.

Dean got as close as he dared, found his shot, and he took it.

The shot would have been dead on too, if the succubus hadn't spotted him just then and jumped out of the way. Well, not out of the way really so much as right at Dean.

"Shit!" Dean tried to duck, but those wings were faster than his reflexes. Dean anticipated an impact like he had seen with Sam, but the succubus didn't ram him. She flew right at him, reaching out with one of her taloned black hands, and grabbed Dean by the throat.

He lifted so effortlessly from the ground that Dean almost forgot to choke. It was the worst kind of hold. It hurt, it cut off air, but not enough that he would pass out or be in any real danger. No, this grip was the kind you used on bait that you wanted alive until you were ready to kill it.

Double shit.

Dean saw the ground getting further away until the succubus finally stopped about the same distance up as the victim's apartment. If Dean fell he doubted he would fair as well as Sasha had. Wings definitely must have come in handy with that.

"You come here to kill me, Sasha!" the succubus called down to where Sasha stood on the cement, looking battered but not yet beaten, "And you have to use human hunters to help you!" Her words should have sounded more mocking, Dean thought, but they didn't. They sounded as calm and dead as the ones she spoke in the apartment.

Then Dean felt her grip let go, and he didn't have time to think of much else. That stomach flip Dean always hated about rollercoasters was much worse when you were falling to a much more possible death.

Dean didn't close his eyes. No fucking way would he close his eyes and just accept this. If he timed things right, rolled, something, he might get away with a broken bone—well, a few broken bones. He had jumped from all sorts of things before, crazy heights, moving cars. Granted, this was a little bit different.

Before he could meet the pavement, however, Dean suddenly felt very stupid, because Sasha was right there after all, and Dean still had several feet to go when strong arms and clawed hands caught him.

The succubus had to have expected that, right? Surely she didn't think Sasha would let Dean pave the ground in a fine Winchester goo.

Dean was safe, but his heart was up in his throat, beating wild. When he looked up into Sasha's changed face, he had to admit it didn't really make him feel much better. Sasha looked plain scary in his true form. Awesome, in the original sense of the word, but scary.

Managing a pretty pitiful 'thanks', Dean tried not to look as freaked as he felt and let Sasha drop him safely the rest of the way to the ground. Sasha didn't say anything, but he smiled, something that did indeed soften his otherwise imposing face what with the eyes, the horns, the fangs, and the slight point to his ears that Dean hadn't noticed until now. Still, the smile reminded Dean that although Sasha may be an incubus, Dean could trust him, and in Dean's mind that was all he needed to know.

Reality snapped back into place and Dean looked up past Sasha just in time to see the succubus coming in fast. He yelled Sasha's name, watching as his friend turned in preparation only to be crashed into yet again. This time they landed against one of the walls, feet on the ground, with Sasha pinned back by the grip Dean now knew better than he wanted to.

Looking down the alley, Dean saw that Sam had recovered his knife, but he looked at Dean with the same helplessness Dean was feeling in his gut. She was just so damn strong. It was a lucky thing these creatures weren't usually bad guys, because hunters would have their hands full.

Dean almost growled at himself. What kind of hunter was he? He had faced things this strong before. Vampires, shapeshifters, a frickin' werewolf! This was some psycho sex vampire with a complex who needed to be put down, and by God Dean was going to see that get done.

Dean may have lost his gun when the succubus grabbed him, but he still had Sasha's. He took it from where he had tucked it into the back of his pants, looked across the alley at Sam, gave a sharp nod, and started moving for the pair against the wall.

The succubus still had Sasha held firm, and she glared back at Dean with a growl. "Enough," she said, and he started to recognize that her voice sounded different than it had in the apartment, low and rumbling. He imagined he hadn't noticed before because he was hanging by his neck above the ground. "You don't know…you don't know anything," she said, "What I've been through…"

"Save it, sister, I'm not into Hallmark moments, okay?" Dean said, steadying his weapon. He was pretty sure he had a good shot this time, but there was always that chance she might make another move like she had before. "Oh, my life's been so sad," he said in a mocking voice, "Nobody loves me for me. Poor little succubus. You wanna find true love, try not killing your victims then."

The succubus growled again. "She did love me!" she screamed, and her voice sounded shrill and inhuman as it rang through the alleyway.

Dean cast a glance at Sasha. The succubus' grip had tightened, but Sasha looked, more or less, no worse for the wear. He gave Dean the smallest possible nod, and that was all the encouragement Dean needed. "Some chickie a few years back gives ya the ditch, huh, and you figure might as well take your revenge out on every girl who reminds you of her pretty blue eyes and dark hair. That's not love, sweetheart. You need professional help."

Sam had worked his way closer by now as well, parallel with Dean and just as close to Sasha and the succubus. She gave him a warning growl as if to say she knew he was there.

"Textbook case, really," Dean continued, pushing as much as he could because as far as he could tell the only way they were going to get this broad to mess up was if they pushed her farther than she could handle. The look in Sasha's eyes said he agreed. "You get your heart broken by this chick, right? She, what, found out you were a sex vampire and said she didn't want to have any more sleepovers? I'm sure killing her really convinced her how wrong she was, right?"

"Shut up!" the succubus yelled, and Dean saw her grip on Sasha tighten even more. That was either good, or very, very bad. "You think you understand what it is like to be one of us…hunter? Even Sasha has yet to discover what it really means." She turned back to look at Sasha, one taloned hand on his throat, the other holding his shoulder to keep him against the wall. "Your mother was as rare as…I am," she said, "You know that. We don't get the human happily ever after. We get night…after night. We get moments. I just wanted…to be with her. Yes, she was afraid. And I was…desperate. I knew I could convince her if only she'd let me. I didn't…I didn't mean to take so much…"

Staring back at the succubus, Sasha's eyes began to change. Dean saw sympathy and pain there, and he thought he understood why. An accident? That still didn't make up for all the deaths since. Dean steadied his weapon. He could shoot now. He could end it right now.

"She was dead before I realized what I'd done," the succubus was saying, still looking only at Sasha, "If she hadn't struggled so much maybe…maybe I wouldn't have been so…violent. She said she loved me, but she turned away when she discovered the truth. And so I kill her…again…and again. So I…never…"

"Have to get hurt like that again." The voice was Sasha's but it wasn't, because it growled as the succubus' did, also half choked behind her grip. Sasha's words were not a question though. They were a statement of what he believed to be the finish to the succubus' words.

The succubus grinned, and it was immediately clear that Sasha was wrong. "So I never forget how good it felt…when I realized she was dead."

Dean clicked back the hammer of his gun but he was already too late. The succubus moved, still holding Sasha in one hand as she reached out with the other to grab Dean again. This time she had him by the arm and his gun fell useless to the ground. She was so damn strong, Dean didn't doubt she could rip his arm clean off if she tried.

"You're fond of this one, hmm…?" the succubus said, moving her eyes from Dean back to Sasha. "Will you be as fond of him without his limbs, I wonder." Red eyes focused hard on Dean then and he would swear they shimmered. Dean was already preparing to say goodbye to his right arm, which he rather liked and wasn't too keen on losing, when the strange but familiar sound of Sasha's laughter started to filter through the alleyway.

The succubus turned back to Sasha with a sneer. Her wings spread out wide, black and threatening. "You think you have something to laugh about, child?" she said, leaning in close to Sasha's face, though keeping her grip tight on both of them. Her voice still sounded out of place to Dean, dead despite her cynical words. What she said next made him finally think he understood why. "You will live eternity alone and hungry for something you can never have," she said, "The chance that you will find happiness in love with a human or even your own kind is lower even than a demon's. And believe me, eternity is a very long time without company."

Sasha's laughter had long since died and as these words were spoken a deeper sadness like nothing Dean could ever imagine on Sasha's face broke into his expression like a crack on a mirror. "Maybe you're right," he said, his voice still that strange rumble, "But that doesn't change…that you've lost, Aunt Sabine."

For a moment the succubus could only stare at Sasha, not understanding what he could possibly mean. But Dean understood, he understood even before he saw her start to convulse. She had forgotten one very important thing.

Sam.

Dean and Sasha fell from the succubus' grip at the same time, both managing to stay on their feet but definitely feeling more pain than either would like. It was not until the succubus fell, however, that they saw Sam where he had been standing behind her, holding his now bloodied iron knife.

"Rule number one," Sam said, though he wasn't smiling or at all smug.

"Never monologue," Dean finished, and he wasn't smiling either.

Sasha, standing there between them, just looked so broken somehow. They knew he had wanted this, that this was the only outcome they could have found, but it didn't make killing a family member any easier.

That thought forced Dean to look up at Sam, and he hated that Sam was already looking at him with an expression that said, "One day you'll have to do this for me, Dean."

Dean had never wanted to hit Sam more in his entire life.

The succubus gave a few more spasms, staring up at them all in disbelief. If she could speak, she didn't try. Sam had gotten her right in the heart. It wasn't quite like they had seen with Sasha with the spreading of blue veins. Instead, the veins seemed to be everywhere all at once, only they shimmered, disappearing and reappearing like a hologram. When she finally went still, there were no sign of veins at all, but her red eyes lay open.

They all just stood there, silent. It started getting to Dean real fast and he knew he had to break them out of it. He mustered his courage and gave Sasha's strange true form a good smack on the back. "Dude, you are freaky as hell," he said, because somehow it made him feel better to say that out loud. "But…kinda cool."

Sasha smiled at Dean, showing fangs of course, and shrugged as if to say, 'what can I say', just as Dean remembered him doing one of the first nights they met. It was a totally different Sasha standing before Dean, but something about that expression and accompanying action made it all seem normal again.

Then Sasha knelt down beside his fallen aunt. He reached out and closed her eyes, having to act more carefully with his claws then he would have had to in his human form, and then he placed one hand on her forehead and one on her heart. At first Dean thought he was doing some sort of incubus prayer or something, but then the succubus started to glow and in a moment she had completely vanished.

"Whoa," said Sam, "Where'd she go?"

Sasha stayed on the ground, staring at where the succubus had been. "Home. Back to where our people gather. It's better that way." He looked up at Sam and though Dean couldn't see his expression, he imagined Sasha was attempting to smile. "Part of our fae heritage comes with hearth spells like that. Nothing too crazy though."

Sam gave a small smile and nodded, but Dean could tell he wanted to ask more. Then he did. "Should we expect retaliation?" he asked.

"No, they'll know it was one of our kind that sent her back. They'll understand." Sasha stood up then, the Winchesters book-ending him, and Dean wondered what a passerby might think should they come traipsing down the alleyway.

Sasha was a sight—long red hair, red eyes, black horns, and black wings, and black clawed hands and feet, all set against striking white skin everywhere else. Dean was of course thankful for the black 'tattoos' that covered Sasha below the waist in this form, but for the most part the sight was as menacing as anything they had ever faced.

Again there came a silence. Sasha was still staring at where his aunt had died with that deep, longing sadness Dean didn't quite understand. Seeing such a large creature so otherwise ominous looking so distraught struck a cord with Dean. It was weird, but it kind of reminded Dean of how he felt when he saw his Dad looking beaten or scared. It just didn't seem right.

"It may sound crazy," Sasha started to say, and his grumbling voice was very soft and low, "But…I think I get what she meant, you know? It's almost impossible for us to fall in love. I know that. We're not built to be monogamous. So when it happens, it's really special. My parents," he said with a smile that managed to look sweet even with fangs, "They had that. Can you imagine…loving someone finally after living so long without it…and then to have that person just…hate you because…all they see when they look at you…is…" Sasha stared suddenly at his claws, his taloned hands, and if Dean didn't know any better he would swear his incubus friend looked close to crying.

Sasha had been this unstoppable force of happiness and good humor since they met him. It was unsettling to see him like this. Dean honestly didn't know what to do.

So naturally, as much as he had felt the urge to hit Sam a few minutes before, when his brother spoke up Dean could have kissed him.

"Sasha…" Sam started, puppy-eyes in full force, "I'm…gonna do something that's…probably gonna get me teased for the next week and a half, but…" And then Sam moved in, and by God Sam hugged Sasha in all the incubus' changed and crazy gargoyle like state. It was the first true sign Sam had given that he was really okay with Sasha being, well, Sasha. Being an incubus and not being a bad guy.

And Dean thought he was the one who took longer to accept freaky things.

Carefully, Sasha reached his arms around to return Sam's gesture, making sure his claws didn't cause any damage or that his strength didn't crush the shorter man—though usually taller man, Dean thought—as he did so. Within that hug, which Dean would definitely tease both girls about later, Dean saw that Sasha was starting to shrink. Well, not shrink, Dean realized. Sasha was changing back, back into his guise of a normal, human form.

For the briefest moment Dean thought Sam was going to be left hugging a naked Sasha, which just couldn't be good no matter how you looked at it, but then Dean remembered that Sasha hadn't ever taken off his clothes, they had just vanished. They reappeared just the same, and after a moment Dean might have believed that none of that mess between incubus and succubus ever happened.

Yeah. Right.

The pair pulled out of their hug, Sam smiling, his puppy-eyes glowing, and since Dean could only take so much of that kind of mushy, girly crap, he got in between them as quickly as he could. With one arm thrown around both brother and friend, Dean looked each in the eye and said, "It's like…six o'clock. What do you say to pizza…and lots and lots of beer?"

Sam laughed.

Sasha, smiling much more like the Sasha Dean had grown so very fond of, said oh so fittingly, "Hell yes."

It was Dean's suggestion that they choose a new place to spend their money and merriment, given that Minneapolis had quite a lot to offer for a night life, and really, though Dean would never admit it, he didn't feel like heading back to the place near St. Louis Park where Sasha had hooked up twice.

Besides, he assumed Sasha would appreciate that too. If the guy planned to hook up again tonight, it had to be better to have fresh blood around.

They settled in a bar that was close enough to their hotel should they need to walk back, but still close enough to downtown to be lively with excitement. The kitchen served pizza, the bar served good domestic and imported beer, and the music—while mostly top 40s—wasn't half bad.

"To surviving?" Sam offered weakly, lifting his beer in the center of their booth's table.

Dean raised an eyebrow at his brother, then lifted his own mug and said, "To kicking ass and walking away," which to him sounded much better.

There was a laugh from Sasha as Sam rolled his eyes, but soon the incubus too had his glass out for the toast. "I don't know if I'd call that kicking ass," Sasha said, "but…I'll drink to it."

They clinked. They drank. And for all intents and purposes, they felt pretty damn good. Dean certainly wasn't about to bring up the fact that they had just killed Sasha's aunt. It would ruin the mood.

Really, Dean should have expected that Sam would ruin it for them anyway.

"So, you really okay with what happened back there?" Sam said to Sasha, concern drawn all over his youthful face, "I mean, she was family. That can't be easy on you."

Dean took another drink from his beer and glowered at Sam with as much animosity as possible. Of course, whenever Sam 'the concerned and understanding bystander' took over, the kid never noticed anything but the person he was sympathizing with.

The mood was officially killed. And the pizza had been so good too. At least Sasha didn't look as devastated as Dean expected. He had seen sadness on Sasha's face far too much for one day.

"I'm…okay," Sasha said, giving the smile Dean remembered from the alley—the one he didn't believe but had to give props to the guy for mustering, "Sabine was never that big a part of my life. Not like Shi. Sabine's the oldest. Maybe that's why Shi never did anything about this. She never even told me."

"You think she knew your other aunt was killing?" Sam queried. They hadn't met the aunt that raised Sasha, but after meeting aunt number two both Winchesters felt better about that on all accounts.

Sasha stared at his half full mug of beer, his smile still trying to look natural but failing, and said, "I don't know. Maybe. Probably. You see, my kind, sure, we don't kill. It's not a rule, it's just the way things are. But when one of us does, everyone kind of just…looks the other way, ya know? No one wants to be the person to have to stop them."

"To have to kill them, ya mean," Dean offered. Part of him didn't even want to get involved in this angst-fest, but he figured if he didn't things would only get worse from here. "Being a hunter can't make you too popular with your fellow sex vampires then, I'd imagine."

Again there came a wave of that sadness Dean had started to recognize must be in Sasha all the time, he just usually kept it better hidden. "Nope. Popular I'm not. Let's just say I'm welcome in my aunt's home. And that's about it."

Dean was ready to leave things there, but Sam just had to go and push things a little bit further. "You don't have any…friends like you?" he asked.

Like you.

Smooth, Sammy. Real smooth.

"I did once," Sasha said, either ignoring or not minding Sam's momentary ineloquence, "Maybe even a couple would still speak to me. If I ever saw them. Things got different real fast after the change." Sasha took a long swallow of beer and then let the mug sit there on the tabletop with only about another swallow-full left.

Again, Sam just had to press for more. "Change?" he repeated. Dean almost wanted to say 'hey, curiosity killed the nosy little college boy!' but he didn't. He had to admit, there was still a lot about Sasha they didn't know, and damn it if Dean didn't want to find out more.

Sasha was smiling a little more genuinely now. At least that was a good thing. "That story might need another round," he said, fingering the handle of his beer, but still not picking it up to down the last of it, "But basically, the change is like our version of puberty. Yeah, sounds more like menopause, we really need to work on a new name, but puberty's closer to the truth." He laughed a little, and Sam and Dean chuckled a little too, waiting for him to go on. "Happens at sixteen, and I can tell ya it is way more intense than whatever you guys go through. It's faster for one. Comes and goes in a couple weeks. It's basically when our sex drive kicks in. When we start needing sexual energy to survive."

"Start needing?" Dean questioned. He had always assumed an incubus always needed sexual energy.

"What, you think a little five-year-old incubus goes around getting laid?" Sasha grinned.

Point.

"No, we live off a more subtle energy when we're younger. Affection. Usually we get all we need from our parents and other relatives just by being around them. When sixteen hits though…it gets crazy. Suddenly it's just BOOM, frenzy, no control at all. I mean, you could attack anyone at any time, you need sex so bad."

Dean felt his grin growing and just couldn't help himself. "Really? Sounds a lot like when I was sixteen," he smirked. Dean didn't need to look at Sam to know his brother was scowling, but Sasha gave a good laugh and that was good enough for Dean.

"I'm sure," Sasha said. Then he trailed a little and his expression fell, not quite back to that strange sadness, but more serious. "It's not all fun and games though," he said, "Where do you think all the bad rap for my kind comes from? It's the change. Back in the day, when an incubus or succubus came of age, they just ran wild. Usually…ended up killing people coz they couldn't control themselves. A couple hundred years ago or so, some of the elders decided that needed to stop. A lot of parents were already being more careful, keeping their children locked away during that time, but that's not really healthy either. We need sex for a reason, right? So…we found another solution."

Sasha paused, looking back and forth between Sam and Dean for a moment, maybe wondering if one of them would prompt him further. Both were too intrigued to really say anything though, so Sasha just went on.

"The short of it? They lock as many frenzied sixteen-year-olds in a room together as they can and let them go at it for a couple weeks."

Dean practically snorted beer out of his nose. "You mean…when you were sixteen you got put in a room with a bunch of others going through the same thing and just…had crazy orgies for a few weeks?"

Sasha shrugged. "More or less."

Dean could not believe his ears. "Dude…that is so not fair."

"Wait…I don't understand," said Sam, ignoring what he surely considered an inappropriate comment from his brother. He and Sasha were on one side of the booth while Dean occupied the other alone. Sam had turned towards Sasha more fully at his question, and had on that especially humorous look of being perplexed. "I thought you needed to feed off humans. Your first…meal…is each other?"

And the award for the most awkward way to word things goes to…

Thankfully, Sasha only laughed.

"We…prefer humans," Sasha explained, turning to face Sam as well now and speaking in a way Dean thought sounded pretty patronizing actually. He doubted Sam noticed. "Feeding off each other is like…vampires feeding off each other. We can survive, and when you're frenzied you really don't notice the difference. But when you're just feeding normal, being with one of our own kind…it isn't worthwhile. It isn't…satisfying."

Now that made even less sense as far as Dean was concerned. He had to speak up. "Uh, must have sucked for your parents then coz didn't your Dad become an incubus?" That might have been the very worst thing Dean could say right then, but Sasha just turned back to Dean and gave him a rather honest and amused smile.

"That's different," he said, "You're gonna make fun, I know it, but…when it comes to love…the same rules don't apply. When you're in love everything's just…better."

Dean barked a laugh before he could help himself. Love. Right. "Dude, you don't really believe that, do you?" he said.

There was a grunt from Sam that Dean recognized as his 'shut up now' sound, but Sam was a hopeless romantic. Of course he would side with the Lifetime channel.

Sasha seemed to think just the same though, because his expression became instantly serious again.

"It's true, Dean. At least when my people find it. We feed off passion. And when you're in love with the person you sleep with, the passion there is greater than anything else. Guess that's why it's so rare a find."

Dean just sat there a moment, staring across at Sasha, and when he glanced at his brother the expression he saw was pretty much the same on both faces. They both wanted to believe in what Sasha had said. Love. Perfect and wonderful. Hell, maybe Sammy had had that with Jess, but it sure didn't turn out so well for them, did it, Dean thought.

When it came down to it, Dean already knew what his response had to be, and he certainly wasn't about to change his philosophy on the matter. If he had ever been in love, it was only once, and it sure as Hell didn't have any happily ever after to it.

"Sasha," Dean said, leaning over the table towards the pair across from him, "That is the sappiest, stupidest thing I have ever heard. Next round?" he added, standing from the table and gathering up their collective mugs. "I'm picking this time."

Sasha nodded and smiled at Dean as he stood, but Sam was giving Dean the evil eye. He started making little head gestures towards Sasha like Dean needed to apologize to the guy or something.

Dean almost sighed aloud. Instead, he turned and headed for the bar.

It took Dean a little longer than he intended to get them a fresh set of drinks, Sapporo this time to commemorate when they first drank together, and because it was easier to carry three cans than three mugs. When he returned to the table, he saw that Sam and Sasha were talking in a way that could only mean Sam had gone off on one of his soul-searching tangents again and kept the mood right where Dean didn't want it to be.

Depressing.

"Sasha was starting to tell me about how, you know, how things changed after the, uh…"

"Incubus/succubus orgies?" Dean supplied, sitting back down and passing around the beers to the others.

Sam gave a small scowl, but simply turned to Sasha for him to continue.

Great, Dean thought, now this felt like a therapy session, with Doctor Sam pulling and prodding every last pit of personal information he could from Sasha's reluctant brain. The look on Sasha's face told Dean that he didn't really want to talk about any of this, but talk he did in that sad, strange drawl that didn't fit Sasha anymore than a sad expression.

"I was just saying how excited I remember everyone being after the change was over," Sasha said, "It meant we were adults. We could go out on our own. Everyone had some kind of plan. Me? I had to go and say…"

"I wanna be a hunter," Dean finished, almost surprising himself with how smoothly he broke in. It was an easy enough story to figure out, after all.

"Yeah…"

"And they just….what, shunned you?" Sam said, sounding rightly scandalized, but maybe a little too much. The last thing Dean wanted was for them to bring all this up and put Sasha back in it like he was right there again.

By the distance in those brilliant blue eyes though, Dean was pretty sure Sasha was already there.

He didn't answer at first. He didn't have to. But eventually Sasha spoke on anyway.

"It's kind of like…living in two worlds…and not really belonging in either. Familiar sob story, right?" he smiled, though without anything really like a smile in the expression, "I don't have friends anymore. I don't work with other hunters. Most of the time, when Aunt Shi's not breathing down my neck, it's just me. But I'm doing good out here. At least I'm trying to. And these last couple weeks, well…I worked with some other hunters on a case and felt like I had friends. Not too bad for almost ten years later, huh?"

The smile on Sasha's face still wasn't nearly as true and brilliant as Dean wanted it to be. He was used to Sasha's eternal good humor. He supposed he had forgotten that Sasha, more or less, was still a regular person who couldn't possibly be happy all the time.

Then Dean thought about what Sasha had said. On principle Dean couldn't jump on the sentimental crap, much as he was pleased to call Sasha friend. He thought more on that ten years. Sasha was almost twenty-five, the end-all age when it came to an incubus.

"When's your birthday?" Dean asked suddenly. They really needed to get out of this funk Sam had pulled them into.

Sasha looked a little flustered for a moment and then said, "Uh, December seventeenth. Why?"

"December seventeenth," Dean repeated. "Alright, wherever we all are on that date, we're getting together to throw you a party. Or at least for a few more rounds of beer and pizza. It's your last milestone, buddy. We wouldn't want to miss it."

Dean meant well. He could have sworn he meant well. But then why the hell did Sasha still look so damn sad?

As realization struck him, Dean could have kicked himself. Last milestone. Like Sasha wanted to be reminded of what his aunt had said about an eternity alone. But then that's why Dean had said they should get together. Friends got together. It's what they did so they didn't have to be alone. Dean wasn't sure he believed in love and happily ever afters, but he wanted whatever was as close as he could get to it. He figured Sasha probably wanted that too.

Dean assumed that had to be the reason Sasha eventually found his real smile again, and he knew he could relax when Sasha looked him right in the eye and said, "I'd really like that. On you, right?" he added, smirking a little, "Birthday boys really shouldn't have to pay."

Dean laughed. Now that was more like the Sasha he knew. "We'll see about that," he said, leaning back with his beer in hand, "Might have to earn it."

"Oh? And, uh…how might I do that?"

Dean's initial reaction was to grin. Right now even Sasha's sultry, flirty tone of voice was an improvement over that depressed shit. But then Sasha wasn't supposed to be flirty around Dean anymore. And he certainly wasn't supposed to be moving his foot up and down Dean's shin.

The table gave a loud smack as Dean jerked his knee up into the bottom of it. He couldn't help reacting that way; it was reflex.

"Dean," Sam said in reprimand, "What are you doing?"

There just wasn't an answer. Sasha's old expression and look of merriment was starting to come back, but with it also came the look that made Dean think the guy wanted to…things Dean didn't want to imagine or describe. Hadn't they dealt with this?

"Dean?" Sam pressed.

"Nothing. Just…a cramp. Okay?"

"Right."

Dean scrutinized Sasha across the table as hard as he could, because that look couldn't be what it seemed to be. This was over and done with, damn it! "I'm…gonna get another round," Dean said, rising once again from the table.

"Another?" Sam questioned, "Dean, we haven't even started on the one you just brought."

Dean glanced back briefly and damn if Sasha didn't look perfectly innocent and unaware of what had just happened. Maybe Dean…imagined it.

Yeah.

"Believe me, Sammy, I think we're going to need it."

After about round six, Dean couldn't even remember what he had freaked out about. Life was looking better than ever as far as he was concerned. Especially since at the moment the table was an eruption of laughter.

"You don't have a car?" Sam said through chuckles. It shouldn't be that funny, but for some reason it was one of the funniest things they had heard all night.

"Why do you think I rode with you everywhere?" Sasha replied, chuckling just as merrily.

Duh, Dean thought, "Coz my baby's shit hot, that's why."

Sasha gave a contented hum. "Damn straight. But no car for me. I'm a public transportation, hitch-hike my way 'round kind a guy. Better for the environment."

Dean almost spilled his mug bringing it up to his lips, he laughed so hard. "Fuck the environment. My baby made that hole in the ozone layer personally, and I couldn't give a shit."

"Shhh…" Sam slurred, bringing a wavering finger up to his lips. "Don't swear so loud in public, Dean. People might hear you."

There was a small silence, and then all three men burst into laughter again.

It was a night they didn't plan to remember much of in the morning, but they would sure as hell remember they had a good time.

"I don't feel so good," Sam said, lolling his head back against the wall beside him and cradling a bottle of Budd Light in one of his large hands, "You guys are dangerous together," he added, trying somewhat successfully to use his beer bottle as a pointer at Sasha and Dean respectively, "You keep getting me drunk, and I don't…I don't even like being drunk."

Sasha snorted, and then crinkled his nose as if some of the beer he'd just downed must have risen up into his sinuses. "You need to loosen up, Sammy," Sasha said, grinning even as he twitched his fizzed-up nose.

Dean gave a loud, mocking gasp and reached over the table to grab Sasha's shoulder. "No, no. You can't call him that. Only I can call him that. He gets all…testy when someone else does. Trust me. Personally, I think he just gets jealous someone's gonna take me away from him." Dean snickered at that. Sam was such a girl sometimes.

"Jealous!" Sam laughed, throwing his head back far enough to hit it against the wall this time, though he hardly noticed. Then, still giggling, Sam leaned close to Sasha and threw an arm around the incubus' shoulders. "Sasha," he said, "Hey, Sasha."

Naturally, Sasha was giggling too. The laughter was just too infectious right now. "What?"

"Dean called dibs, see?" Sam said, not thinking clearly enough to be scandalized by his forgetfulness of tact, "And…and…he is all yours." Sam gave Sasha a hard smack on the back. "Go ahead and have him."

Dean may have been half-chuckling still, but he managed to find half a scowl too. "Not…funny," he said, and immediately tripped over his feet when he tried to get up from the table. "I…I gotta take a piss," Dean managed. Standing took a little more effort than it should have, but eventually Dean was up and had clear sights on the bathroom. At least he thought he did. Two steps later he was sitting in Sasha's lap. "Oops," he said, chucking a little again. In the corner of the booth Sam sounded like he was about to bust a gut.

"Here, I can actually walk straight still," Sasha said, helping Dean stand and then standing up right behind him. Then, taking Dean by the arm, Sasha started to lead Dean towards the bathroom.

Dean had to admit, it made for easier going. "Okay, but…my arm is the only thing you're holding once we get in the bathroom."

"Whatever you say, Dean."

Of course Sasha was a perfect gentleman about the whole thing. He was pretty drunk himself, true, but he could walk straighter and steadier than Dean. Dean thought maybe incubus' had a higher tolerance or something.

Sasha simply helped Dean into the bathroom, leaned him against one of the urinals, and politely stepped back until Dean was done. It was a good thing he didn't step too far back though, because the movement of Dean zipping his pants back up almost unbalanced him right to the tiled floor. Sasha caught him before that could happen.

"That's twice you've caught me today," Dean mused, thinking it kind of funny, since Dean never thought of himself as someone who ever needed to be caught.

"Three if you count my lap," Sasha offered.

Dean laughed. "Sad but true, my friend."

As before, Sasha helped Dean make his way out of the bathroom. They were still behind the wall that blocked off the bathroom from plain view to the rest of the bar, when Dean started trying to push Sasha away from him.

"Hey, I can…I can do it myself."

"You sure?"

"Sure I'm—" Dean pushed with a little more force, and pushed himself right off of Sasha like a landing pad. If Sasha hadn't reached over to catch him yet again, Dean would have had a nice collision with old carpeting. "Oops." Why did that keep happening? Dean couldn't seem to wrap his brain around it.

Catching Dean had managed to press the both of them against the back wall, and as Sasha started to steady the two of them a little better on their feet, he allowed himself to press pretty closely into Dean's body. There was no one else around, but that did not give Sasha the right to get fresh.

With anyone else, Dean might have thought it an accident, but Sasha didn't have to be that close. "Hey," Dean said, squinting to focus better on Sasha's too-close-for-comfort face, "You gotta quit that. I may by drunk…but not that drunk. We had a deal, remember?"

Sasha was smiling, and he was so close to Dean that the smell of Sasha that had managed to remain unsoiled by the smell of too much alcohol wafted up around him sweetly. "I know," Sasha said, "I remember. I lay off…if you feel nothing from our kiss." There was the smallest pause, and then everything moved too fast for Dean to stop it.

Either Sasha was half-faking how drunk he was, or he was just that good at recovering, because there was no way he should have been able to move like that. Suddenly, Dean found himself pressed back into the wall, his wrists pinned up above his head, and Sasha pressed in against him so tight that Dean could feel the contours of Sasha' body all the way down.

Dean had managed to avoid the sensation for several hours, but now Dean shivered harder than he yet had.

"How much of an idiot do you think I am, Dean?" Sasha breathed, softly and with an edge that almost made him sound dangerous, "I'm an incubus. You. Can't. Fool. Me." Sasha leaned down to Dean's ear on those words, breathing hot air on his skin and making Dean shiver even more. "But if you're going to go to this much trouble…to pretend…you don't want me…" Suddenly Dean was free, though his arms remained above his head at first since he didn't know he had the freedom to move them. "What more can I do?" Sasha finished. His smile was as pleasant and kind as ever, and when he walked away, leaving Dean there against the wall, Dean knew there was nothing really dangerous about Sasha. Not really.

But then, why the hell did he feel so damn scared?

Deciding he had had enough to drink, Dean managed to make it back to the table feeling surprisingly more sober. Sasha made no indication that there was anything amiss, so that if Dean so chose he could pretend nothing happened. He could pretend the kiss never happened too. He could pretend he never had that dream. He could pretend a lot of things.

But for God knows what reason, even as they were finally heading back to the hotel, Dean couldn't stop shivering.

It was time to part ways. They had had their rest, checked out of their rooms, and the case was done and over with. All that remained was to say goodbye.

Oh, Dean still at least half remembered their reckless night and Sasha's very prominent advances towards him. But Dean didn't want to think about that. He would rather focus on the friend he was happy to have gotten to know even if the guy did have the hots for him.

Dean swallowed. He was supposed to not be thinking about that, he reminded himself.

They were saying goodbye, and Sammy, being Sammy, was in the midst of hugging Sasha again. It wasn't that Dean didn't want to follow suit, he just hated that he kind of had to now. Dean was never big into the hugging.

"You're sure you don't want us to drop you somewhere?" Sam was saying, giving an extra squeeze for good measure. "It's no trouble."

"Nah, I can find my own way. I'm sure we're headed in opposite directions anyway."

Sam pulled back and gave that sad, sweet, puppy smile of his. "You know, you can give us a call before your birthday rolls around, and I doubt you'll be bothering us. Especially if it's ever about a case."

Sasha nodded. "Your numbers are on speed dial," he said, and then looked around Sam to meet eyes with Dean. "He had a teddy bear when he was little, didn't he?"

Oh, Dean knew there was a reason he liked Sasha so much. "Like Linus and his blanket, I swear to God."

Sam let out an obviously false laugh and said, "Oh…I hate you."

"Sure ya do, Sammy," Dean said, and moved in to take his turn at goodbyes since Sam had so kindly stepped out of the way. "Look, can we at least guy-hug this? Sam's been enough of a girl for all of us."

Surely, Sam was scowling behind Dean, but Dean wasn't going to bother looking.

Sasha understood, and gave a good laugh as he pulled Dean close, they patted each other's backs quick and hard, and then they let go. Painless.

"See ya around?" Dean said.

Sasha nodded. "I'll be around."

And a few minutes later Dean and Sam were in the Impala driving away.

"For crying out loud we're not even on 35 yet!" Dean shouted out his driver's side window. They were leaving late, but it was a Friday, and Friday rush hour began somewhere around noon. "We're still in the suburbs," Dean said to Sam, who was pouring over their father's journal entry on incubi again. They had things they needed to add, after all. "I can still see shops lining the streets."

"It's raining, Dean," Sam pointed out, something that had started about the time they left, which really wasn't all that long ago, "Traffic slows when it rains."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. It rains all the time! It's a natural occurrence!"

Sam just sighed. "Remind me never to go urban with you again. Or at least let me drive like in New York. Your road rage could best Dad's."

"Ha," Dean barked, that would be a feat. Dad had a temper like nothing else. One of the few times Dean actually thought he channeled some of that was right after their dad's death. He had taken a crowbar to his baby's beautiful paint job that day. Damn. Dean hoped he never got that angry again in his life.

"Uh…Dean?"

"Not now, okay. We're merging in like…five cars."

"Dean."

"Not now, okay?"

"But Dean!"

"What!" Dean turned to Sam sharply. He couldn't help it. This traffic shit drove him crazy. But as Dean looked at Sam and then followed the direction of Sam's outstretched hand, he saw what had caught Sam's attention so fully.

There were still shops along the streets right now, and standing outside one of them in the pouring rain, with his one duffle and one shoulder bag…was Sasha.

At first Dean thought he must be seeing a ghost. He had seen quite a few in his life, after all. But to be honest, with the way traffic had been moving, and how short a time had passed since they left, Dean wasn't surprised Sasha had been able to catch up to them.

Dean couldn't risk pulling over, but he rolled down his window and waved Sasha to come to the car. "Hey, good lookin'," Dean said, flashing the smile he usually saved for hot chicks in short skirts and low-cut tops, "Going my way?"

Sasha couldn't help laughing, of course. He looked soaked to the bone, his red hair, darkened by the rain, clung to his cheeks and forehead, and his clothes had suctioned to his skin.

Dean reached back and unlocked the rear driver's side door. "Get in," he said. It seemed the natural thing.

And therefore Sasha naturally listened, tossing his wet bags onto the seat behind Sam, and climbing in to sit his wet self on the seat behind Dean. Normally, this would have driven Dean crazy. His baby was a temple. But…it was only water, Dean thought, and he figured he could have Sasha clean the Impala if the water left a mess.

Sasha had joined them just in time, because in the next few moments, Dean was merging ahead, and finally starting to curve his way onto highway 35W South.

Once they were safely in faster moving traffic, Sam looked back at Sasha and said, "Change your mind?"

Sasha was busy trying to dry his hair on an extra sweatshirt from inside his duffle, but he tossed Sam an easy smile. "I figured I could at least let you drop me somewhere. What with the rain and all."

"Sure," Dean said, looking back at Sasha through the rearview mirror, "Where you thinking?"

"Oh…" Sasha started, looking as if he was thinking that question over very carefully. Then he looked up, meeting eyes with Sam, and then Dean in the mirror. "Maybe…wherever you're going?"

Somehow, that was exactly what Dean expected Sasha to say. "You know, I was thinking the same thing," Dean said, and he knew Sam was smiling beside him, "Us freaks gotta stick together, right? You know, safer that way."

Sasha laughed. "Right."

Eventually, Sam settled back into his seat, facing forward, and they were on their way. It felt a little too easy, Dean mused, how they had picked up someone they hadn't known from anywhere a couple weeks ago, and now they were letting him tag along. But really, Dean didn't mind. He had always preferred having three people to their posse anyway.

After a few minutes of relatively painless traffic, and Sam being once again buried in the journal, Sasha leaned forward, making a point to come up next to the side of Dean that wasn't close to Sam, and whispered, "Besides…you can't lie to yourself forever, Dean."

Dean's eyes darted immediately to the rearview mirror, and he caught Sasha's perfect blues. The voice had sounded almost menacing, but when Dean looked at Sasha sitting in the backseat, having leaned back again to give Dean space, there was nothing but sweet, friendly charm.

Maybe three was a crowd after all, Dean thought, but he didn't want to have to mull on that just yet. Instead, he reached over and turned on the radio for some nice distraction. It came on as some local station at first, and some slow moving ballad started to play.

"Oh, good song. Turn it up," Sasha said, reaching up between the seats to do so himself.

Oh no. Not going to happen. Dean caught Sasha's wrist so fast that the incubus was the startled one for a change. "Whoa. Dude. We have one rule in this car," Dean said, and he knew his eyes looked just as serious as he meant for them to, even if he was smiling. He let go of Sasha's wrist, reached down between the seats, grabbed a tape of Styx, and popped into his tape player. "Driver picks the music."

About half an hour into their drive, having no real destination in mind just yet, Sam's cell phone started to ring.

"Hello? Hey, Bobby. No, we were just leaving Minnesota actually." Sam listened for awhile. After a few minutes, he moved the phone from his mouth a little so he could speak to Sasha and Dean. "Bobby's got a lead on the demons."

"About damn time," Dean said. They hadn't heard much of anything since the Devil's Gate opened. And there had to be hundreds, maybe more of those damn things out there. Dean was more than happy to get in gear and exorcize or maybe even kill himself some demons.

Sam was listening again, and again he moved the phone away so he could speak to Sasha and Dean, "Sounds like we're going to Nebraska."

The End of Arc 1, BUT TBC...right here with Arc 2!

Crim