I'll Be Watching You
Summary: Sam comes face to face with his past, and must deal with his buried feelings over the trauma he suffered eight years ago. Sequel to Every Breath You Take. Takes place directly after Home.
Warning: This story is rated M, for erotic content. The story deals with a psychic vampire whose feedings take on a decidedly sexual bent. Those particular chapters will hold a stronger warning so any sensitive souls may steer clear of them if they so choose.
A/N 1- Gidgetgal9: Wow, we have another wild ride in store for you guys, with Heather in the driver's seat. We had such a great time writing the first story so it was a no brainer for us to accept the challenge of doing the sequel. I just hope that you the readers have half as much fun reading this as we did writing it. Sendintheclowns is the perfect writing partner and I bow down to her. She has taught me so much about the writing experience and all of it has been good. I was so happy that Floralia agreed to once again beta our madness. She truly is the best and I will be forever thankful for all her wonderful support and help.
A/N 2- Sendintheclowns: Well, we're back with another tale regarding the psychic vampire who made such an indelible impression on the Winchester family in our first collaboration together, Every Breath You Take. There aren't enough expressions of gratitude to thank Floralia, our beta, for attention to continuity, grammar and overall plot on this beast; you're the best! That goes double for Gidgetgal9 -- it's been a blast playing in your sandbox.
Dean raised his hand and gamely waved at Jenny and the kids before he wheeled the Impala away from their childhood home. He had nothing against the family now residing in the old Winchester house, but his visit there had done nothing except stir up painful memories and Dean was more than ready to leave it, and Lawrence, in the dust.
Dean's concentration was split between looking for signs to I-70 as he navigated down the residential street and the box of cassettes sitting on the bench seat next to him. The ramp leading them west hadn't materialized yet but Dean smiled with success as he popped in the cassette of Boston's self titled release. The choice of music was less frenetic than his usual style; the combination of Brad Delp's mellow vocals and Tom Scholz's kick-ass guitar were just what he needed to sooth his battered nerves.
It had been one hell of a week, what with Sam's revelation that he had been having "visions" and his insistence that they travel to their childhood home — the one place Dean had vowed he'd never return to. And his misgivings had been right on target as both brothers had ultimately come face to face with the spirit of their mother. Mary Winchester had been every bit as beautiful as Dean remembered her, with flowing blond hair and a gentle smile. But she had given her energy to banish the poltergeist who had taken up residence in the house and the pain was sharp; it was like losing her all over again.
Dean was emotionally wrung out and the last thing he wanted was to have a heart to heart with his little brother over their mom, or even about Sam's new powers. He kept his eyes locked straight ahead for "More Than a Feeling" but when Sam still hadn't said anything when "Peace of Mind" started up, Dean chanced a sidelong glance at his brother.
Sam was scrunched down in the passenger seat, his right elbow resting against the narrow window ledge with his head propped awkwardly against his hand. Something about the tense set of his brother's body gave Dean pause, and after another minute of studiously avoiding the passenger seat he checked on Sam again; this time his brother was rubbing assiduously at his forehead while squinting ahead into the sunny day.
Lowering the volume on the stereo, Dean mentally gathered himself for the coming conversation. It was apparent that Sam was having a hard time with something and needed to talk, even if that was the last thing Dean wanted to do. "Dude, what's going on with you?"
Expecting Sam to either launch into a detailed explanation of what was on his mind or even a glib "I'm fine" which had become Sam's standard first response until prodded, Dean wasn't prepared for the silence that followed his question. If Sam had to marshal his thoughts that much, it must be bad. Dean was sensing an emotional outburst from his sibling and wished they weren't cooped up in the car; it was hard to take cover when stuck behind the wheel, regardless of how sweet the ride.
His brother, still silent, was now rubbing his throat absently. A picture of Sam lying still on the floor, a lamp cord wrapped tightly around his neck, rose unbidden to Dean. It had made complete sense for Dean, Sam and Missouri to split up while completing the ritual to banish the poltergeist but he'd known pure panic when he'd found his baby brother barely struggling to draw in air. He didn't want to start an argument, but it was difficult for Dean to let Sam out of his sight when they were in the field — it was his job to protect Sam and keep him safe. Always had been, always would be. And Sam, despite his protestations, needed to understand that.
Dean punched Sam in the thigh. It wasn't a love tap but he didn't put his full strength into it either. He wasn't trying to bruise his brother, he just wanted his attention. "Ground Control to Major Tom. Can you hear me?"
Sam gave a startled yelp and slowly turned to face Dean. His little brother's face was pale and haunted, dark bruises standing out starkly against his throat. Sam opened his mouth to say something, then hesitated as pain flashed across his face. Dean forced his attention back to the road before stretching his hand out and touching Sam's arm. "Hey, you okay?"
With his peripheral vision, Dean could see Sam was rubbing the middle of his forehead. He wondered if Sam had a headache. Not surprising considering the trauma his body had been through in the last twenty-four hours. But still, Sam usually bitched when there was a minor problem. If everything was fine, that was the time to worry.
His brother's voice, soft and resigned, penetrated his musings. "What did you smack me for?"
Dean kept his attention away from his brother reluctantly. If he jumped down Sam's throat his brother would clam up and it would take forever to figure out what the problem was. And there was something off with Sam; he just couldn't quite put his finger on it. Maybe it was just fall-out from the emotions their old house had stirred up. "You weren't answering me and you know I hate to be ignored."
He really wanted to tell Sam he was worried about him but Dean knew his brother wouldn't appreciate the sentiment anymore than he would feel comfortable saying it. Sam had been pegged as the sensitive Winchester early on but the truth was his little brother was more interested in talking problems to death rather than discussing feelings. They were a seriously fucked up family in that regard but Dean figured from the people they'd met over the years, the majority of the population was in the same boat.
Sam's face was in profile and he stared resolutely out the front windshield but Dean caught a telltale tick in his brother's face before he nodded his head. Something was going on. "Sam, dude, spill it already. I'm all ears."
That was about as close as Dean got to inviting an emotional scene but Sam didn't take the bait. Silence reigned as Dean finally spotted the on ramp to I-70 West and immersed himself in merging with the busy commuter traffic.
Once they were safely on the interstate and up to cruising speed, he checked on Sam who still wasn't engaging in conversation. A shiver rippled through his brother's body. It was slight but visible. "Hey, are you feeling okay?"
His little brother refused to meet his eye as he answered. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just have a little headache."
Dean decided to let it go for now. Sam would tell him if something major was going on. And then he remembered that his brother had successfully hidden the fact that he was having visions from him. It didn't exactly inspire confidence. Then again, Sam had finally told him what was going on. Dean had to trust him. If they didn't trust each other, this little partnership wasn't going to make it out of Kansas.
Settling back against the bench seat, Dean concentrated on the music. Sam also shifted in the passenger seat, seeking a more comfortable position. Despite the calm demeanor his little brother was projecting, Dean could tell something was going on with Sam and he determined to stick close until he could figure out what was up with his brother.
At first Sam had thought he was about to be hit with a migraine but when the pain didn't materialize, he forced himself to relax.
When he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, Sam could hear white noise. He tried to pinpoint where it was coming from but he couldn't get a bead on it. The voiceless whisper slithered up his spine and he shivered.
So intent on what was going on in his head, Sam didn't have an inkling that Dean was trying to get his attention until his big brother's fist connected with his thigh and he yelped in dismay. "What did you smack me for?"
Sam cursed the sound of his voice. It was soft and wobbly to his own ears and he hoped Dean hadn't noticed. He didn't want to make Dean worry for no reason. And both brothers were at the end of their rope when it came to dealing with surprises.
Dean raised an eyebrow but kept his eyes on the road. "You weren't answering me and you know I hate to be ignored."
Wondering how long his brother had been trying to talk to him, Sam stared into the distance. Although he could feel Dean's full attention on him, his own drifted as a wave of dizziness passed over him. His head didn't ache but it felt heavy and he was having a hard time holding it up. Another shiver caught him unaware.
Sam's eyes latched on to the semi in front of them. He was trying everything he could to distract his body from these weird sensations. His skin tingled like his body was too small to contain him. It was bizarre. But it didn't hurt. His left eye twitched and he fought to keep his hand at his side. There was no need to alarm Dean. At least not yet.
His older brother was acting all twitchy in the driver's seat and kept shooting concerned glances his way. He hadn't noticed it at first which had only managed to raise Dean's interest. "Sam, dude, spill it already. I'm all ears."
Without warning, Sam's upper body jerked. It was as if Dean had jammed on the brakes, rocking his body forward against the seatbelt, but Sam was the only one affected.
Shit, his brother had seen him. Dean's voice was steady and calm but Sam didn't miss the underlying worry. "Hey, are you feeling okay?"
It took a moment for Dean's words to sink in. Sam thought he was okay. Well, a little shaky. And something wasn't right with his head. That creepy feeling had returned and was taking up residence at the back of his head. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just have a little headache."
Well it wasn't precisely a headache but that would have to do. Sam was fast becoming disoriented and couldn't think of another word to describe what was going on.
A part of Sam was relieved when Dean's focus returned to the road. Another part of him was screaming inside for help.
The landscape whizzed by in a blur as Sam struggled to make sense of what was happening. He could hear music in the background, knew he recognized the music, but couldn't get his brain to cough up the name of the band or song playing.
Sam parted his lips and tried to call his brother's name. He struggled but couldn't make his vocal cords work. And what was his brother's name? It started with a D.
Sam's vision grayed out at the edges and he couldn't hold his head up anymore. His head clunked against the passenger side window as he lost the fight with gravity.
An audible gasp was the only warning Dean had that Sam was in trouble. They'd been on the road for almost an hour when his brother tipped over like a tree whose roots have pulled out of the ground. The side of Sam's head collided with the passenger window with a resounding thud that made Dean wince.
Dean's hand found his brother's shoulder and he shook it while scanning the side of the road for an exit sign. "Sammy, come on. Talk to me."
Risking a look at his brother, Dean could only see the awkward way he was slumped against the door. He couldn't even see if Sam's chest was moving. "Sam? Are you with me?"
Cupping first the back of Sam's neck, and then sliding his arm along his brother's back, Dean tugged him up and away from the door. Sam's face was pale and slack, his eyelashes feathered against his cheeks.
His brother had passed out and although the Winchester men weren't strangers to being knocked unconscious, this was different.
Dean's adrenaline kicked in as he reviewed his options. A sign announcing an exit in five miles came into view and Dean decided he would get off the interstate and find a place to triage his brother. Sam hated hospitals and doctors but Dean wasn't going to take any chances with his life; if he couldn't figure out what the problem was and fix it with the first aid kit, he'd drag Sam's ass to the nearest medical complex in a heartbeat. It felt like he'd just gotten his brother back and he wasn't going to lose him.
Bracing Sam up with just the hand behind his neck was too difficult so Dean tugged his brother along the back of the seat, Sam's head flopping with the motion, before guiding him against Dean's side. Sam was deadweight but at least now Dean could put his fingers against Sam's neck and feel the slow beat of his heart, see the hitching up and down of Sam's chest that proved he was still breathing, push the hair from his brother's face and wait for his eyes to open.
Except Sam's eyes didn't open.
It seemed to take forever but Dean finally pulled into the first motel he spotted. He left the Impala idling as he unfastened first his seatbelt and then Sam's. It was difficult to maneuver his brother but he finally had Sam stretched out so that his head was in Dean's lap. Carefully thumbing up an eyelid, Dean was relieved when the pupil contracted against the glare of the morning sun. He repeated the action with the other eye with the same results.
Sam's pulse was slow and steady and his airway was clear. Dean couldn't find any signs of bleeding. But Sam had definitely checked out for a while.
Staring at his brother's relaxed face, Dean willed him to wake up. When that didn't work, he smoothed a finger over Sam's cheek. Instead of flinching away, his brother leaned minutely into the contact. "Sammy, come on. Time to wake up."
It was hard to keep the desperation out of his voice but somehow Dean managed. He had to remain strong. Unflappable. Sam's eyelashes twitched but didn't lift. Dean cupped his brother's cheek in his hand. There was a flurry of rapid eye movement behind Sam's lids.
Sam had talked about how he'd had these visions, for lack of a better word, when he was sleeping. Maybe this time a vision had snuck up on Sam while he was awake. Dean didn't pretend to understand what was happening to his brother. But it didn't matter; Dean was ill prepared to handle it at the moment as evidenced by Sam's continued unconscious state. He wanted to go inside and ask for directions to the nearest hospital but he didn't want to leave his brother alone.
His brother rolled his head and moaned something unintelligible. Dean slid a hand through Sam's wavy hair in an attempt to calm him. Sam's eyes blinked open and words rushed out of his mouth in a jumble.
Dean continued to stroke Sam's head while leaning down with his free hand and grasping one of his brother's hands. "It's okay, Sam. Don't try to talk. Just relax for a minute."
Ever contrary, Sam tried to tug his hand from Dean's grip. "Stop it, please. In my head. He…"
The words were nonsensical but Sam was struggling to make Dean understand something. Eyelids lifted to reveal dazed hazel eyes.
Dean hated to see Sam like this. Vulnerable. Confused. It shook Dean to the core. "Just take it easy Sammy. I think it's time I find you a hospital."
If his brother had trouble making sense of what was going on around him, he had no trouble grasping the concept of going to the hospital. "No, no hospital. Just...my head. Talking. Can't think. It's he…"
Sam's slurred words didn't ease Dean's mind. But his extra tall brother was starting to thrash in an effort to sit up and Dean didn't want him to hurt himself. "Let me do the work here. Just relax."
Dean eased Sam by the steering wheel and hooking his hands under Sam's armpits, he lifted his brother into a sitting position. Scooting himself past the steering wheel, Dean let his brother relax back against his chest. "Nice easy breaths. That's it. Just relax."
His little brother was straining and quivering in his arms but with a little patience, and by hooking an arm around Sam's chest so he couldn't wiggle away, his brother's agitation slowly passed.
Sam patted the arm holding him against Dean. "Better. Thanks."
The words were clearer and color was seeping back into Sam's face. Dean was content to hold Sam for as long as it took for his equilibrium to be restored. "What happened?"
His little brother's answer didn't ease Dean's mind. "I don't know. It just came over me and I couldn't move."
Loath to bring it up, Dean was wondering if Sam had suffered some sort of panic attack. "How do you feel now?"
Sam pushed away from the comfort of Dean's arms and steadied himself against the dashboard. "Whoa, kind of a head rush. But the noise is gone."
Dean tilted Sam's head so he could get an unimpeded view of Sam's face. "What noise?"
Raising a shaky hand to his head, Sam pushed his bangs out of his own eyes. "It's hard to explain. It was there and then it was gone. Something familiar. I recognized it but I can't remember."
His little brother still wasn't completely coherent but his eyes were focusing and the disconcerting slurring had disappeared. "What do you say if I get us a room and we'll try to figure this out?"
Sam sought Dean's left hand and squeezed it between his own. "Thanks."
Dean didn't want to let Sam out of his sight but wanted to get his brother out of the car and somewhere more comfortable. Striding toward the motel office, Dean looked over his shoulder to see how Sam was faring. His brother batted a hand toward an ear, like you would if you were swatting at a bug. But he was upright and his eyes were watching Dean.
They'd only made it as far as Manhattan, just over an hour away from Lawrence. Dean had a sinking feeling. He wanted nothing more than to get out of Kansas but it wasn't going to happen today.
First he needed to take care of Sam.