Title: Supernatural Blood (Oneshot)
Fandom: Supernatural/True Blood crossover.
Summary: Dean knew they shouldn't have split up in the middle of a vamp-county.
Warnings:Swearing, blood sucking (kinda a given in a vampire fic), gay sex.
Rating: NC-17 cause we all know where this is going eventually.
Disclaimer: I own neither True Blood nor Supernatural, but I do enjoy mixing them together for entertainment purposes only.
'Dammit, Sam, where the hell are you?' Dean did not like being this deep in vampire territory alone. Not that he would ever admit as much to anyone, but these days hunters did best to stay away from vamp-counties, as they were known. It was a stand-off, really, and vamps liked to congregate around their hangouts. For some reason these parts of the South were a perfect habitat for them.
Dean grimaced when he saw a church with a sign by the road proclaiming "God Hates Fangs." What he wouldn't give to have that "n" gone. Bigotry the world could always handle. People knowing about vampires? Dean didn't think either side would survive.
He knew splitting up had been a bad idea, even for a salt-and-burn. Sam was suppose to get the girl back home while Dean did his pyro-thing.
The motel room had been empty when he got back, however. Sam's phone was off. Dean decided to do the classy thing and not panic right away. He went back to the bar they had stopped at on their way to the job.
"Merlotte's" sounded like a more classier place than it looked. That was all right with Dean.
The place was packed compared to the last time he had been in there; it looked like the place to be on Friday nights for the locals. Dean glanced around, failed to see Sam, and headed for the bar. He noted there was a petite blonde waiting on tables, while a feisty-looking black woman tended the bar. The fake redhead from before was gone.
'Hey,' he greeted, bringing out a photo of Sam for just this sort of occasion. 'I was wondering if you'd seen my brother in here tonight?' He held up the photo. She was nice enough to stop working for half a second. He figured she was going to brush him off, but then she did a double-take and studied the photo for real.
'Yeah, actually, I think I did. Real tall guy, right?'
'That'd be him.' Dean tried to tell his heart to calm the fuck down. It wasn't a lead yet if she couldn't tell him where Sam had gone.
'Yeah, I saw him alright,' she said, her voice showing disdain. Dean frowned. Sam didn't usually illicit that kind of reaction. 'He was talking to a vamp. Sounded like they were headed over to Fangtasia afterwards.'
'Fangtasia?' Seriously? Dean wanted to add. Man, he hated life post-Revelation. Why couldn't those damn vampires just stay hidden? Being out and about screwed with the whole system: Supernatural on one side, normal on the other. And with names like Fangtasia? If you were a hunter the world had gone from manageable-evil-crazy to Wonderland-crazy overnight.
'Yeah, it's a vamp club in Shreveport,' she said. She sighed suddenly and put down the glass she had been filling. 'You said he was your brother?' Dean nodded. 'Well, no offence, but they looked real cosy. I thought he was a fangbanger.' Dean swallowed hard at the word. Of all the fucked-up shit that came out of the not-so-Great Revelation, fangbangers were definitely the most fucked up.
'See, that's not possible,' Dean said with a shake of the head. Before she had a chance to argue he continued, 'just give me the directions, please?'
He hit the road not a minute later. If some vamp had gotten his hands on Sam then the so-called unofficial ceasefire was shot to hell, according to him. It didn't matter if the vamps were supposedly only drinking True Blood; Dean was a goddamned hunter, and he was gonna hunt some vamps tonight.
The sign outside said "Fangtasia," but it looked like a warehouse. A big hulk stood guard, probably a vamp. Dean had to play it cool. They were probably going to check for weapons. The goon was probably trained to spot hunters trying their luck. Dean hated it with a passion, but he was going to have to go in naked.
He tried to look like the other youths catching some fresh air around the door; someone eager to try to get a vamp to suck his face, and other parts. He shuddered at the thought.
The doorman asked for ID, surprisingly. He looked Dean up and down.
'Aren't you a pretty one,' he grumbled. Dean tried to look flattered, but it might have come out as constipated. In any case the man waved him inside.
The inside of the bar looked like a cross between a biker hangout and a strip-joint. Dean couldn't make up his mind if he really, really liked it or really, really hated it. Ignoring the very uncomfortable stares from vamps and humans alike, he made his way further inside, scanning every shadow and corner, looking for a mop of hair sticking out above the crowd.
No luck yet. Dean was feeling the looks keenly. He was just about to give up when a tall and pale vampette blocked his way.
'You look like you're looking for someone,' she purred. She was dirty-blonde and felt old. Dean had been around vamps enough to know the difference between the newly hatched covens that they used to clean out regularly, and these world-weary ones that had managed to stay clear of hunters before the Revelation.
'No one in particular,' he replied, giving a smile and looking her up and down for show. Man, she was built fine, for a vamp, but he dreaded that knowing look in her eyes. 'But I was just about to get some air so if you'll excuse me.'
'Come with me,' she said. Shit, Dean's fight or flight instincts were screaming to get the fuck out. He was a hunter in the middle of a nest of them. But they played by the rules now, at least on paper, so maybe if he stayed calm they wouldn't bother covering up a murder. She turned her back to him, a show of strength, and walked away. He knew he could do nothing but follow.
They arrived at some sort of stage with a throne on it. A vamp, a proper old fucker, sat artfully slouched in it. He was pale and blond with eyes that seem to bore into Dean. The hunter forced himself to unclench his jaw.
'I don't like hunters in my establishment,' the vamp said. The vampette disappeared off somewhere, leaving Dean in front of the throne alone like some prisoner about to be sentenced.
'I don't want any trouble,' he said, opening his palms to the vamp briefly. He kept his arms away from his body to appear non-threatening. The situation could deteriorate very quickly if tempers rose. Dean had heard about a massacre in Mississippi somewhere when hunters had stormed a vamp-club. They had killed the fangbangers too, and much as Dean thought they were pretty fucked up to want to bang a vamp, they had still been innocent humans.
'Then what are you looking for?'
'My brother, Sam. Real tall, brown hair, puppy-dog eyes.' He indicated Sam's height, keeping his eyes on the vamp for any signs on recognition. If the vamp had Sam hidden somewhere then another massacre was going to take place before the night was out.
'Is your brother a hunter?'
'Yeah,' Dean knew it was pointless to lie.
'Then why do you think he would be here?'
'Honestly, I think one of you fuckers got to him and dragged his ass here,' Dean spat out before he could stop himself. He was tired of feeling on edge and he wanted Sam and him out of this redneck town before he killed something. 'But I don't know. All I do know is that someone saw him talking to a vamp at Merlotte's over in Bontemps and that they might have come here. I just want to find him and get the hell out, I swear.' The vamp smiled. He would have been a fairly handsome man if not for the freakishly pale skin and blood-shot eyes. He looked kinda nordic, definitely not local.
Dean fell silent, wondering if he'd just let his mouth get him into more trouble than he could handle. The vamp had a small smile on his face, but it wasn't malicious. It was almost admiring, and that was actually freaking Dean out a hell of a lot more. He was about to open his mouth and demand answers when the vamp finally spoke.
'What's your name?' Dean hesitated before mentally conceding that it was pointless not to give it.
'Dean,' he bit out.
'Well, Dean, I am afraid I haven't seen your Sam. I don't usually just let hunters waltz in and out of my establishment, but in your case I think I am going to make an exception.' Dean tried not to let his relieved release of breath show, but he saw the smirk on the vamp and knew he'd been caught. God, he hated these bastards.
'Gee, thanks,' he replied, pointlessly.
'You're welcome,' the vamp replied with feigned courtesy. 'I hope we cross paths again, Dean.' Without waiting for another sign of dismissal – like Dean was going to wait on a vamp to dismiss him – he turned and stalked out with as much of his pride as he could muster. Once outside in the fresh air he hurried to the Impala, grateful to be out of the blood stench. True Blood or real blood, it still smelled of vamps sucking on anything alive.
He got in the car and slammed the door. He almost turned the key before he stopped short and tried to clear his head. Now what? Either the vamp was lying, which was entirely possible, or Sam really hadn't been tricked into coming here. Maybe he should wait for daylight and try to break in. He could take out the human guards – they deserved it anyway for guarding those creeps – and check the basement. Dean was fairly certain the place had a basement. No vampire haunt would be complete without one.
He was just about to turn the key and pretend to drive off when the door was pulled open and a supernaturally strong arm reached in and pulled him out. He was slammed against the side of the car. It felt like his spine was gonna snap across the hood.
'I smell hunter,' a voice whispered. He got a fist in his face, his head snapping so hard to the side he was sure he got whiplash too.
Dean knew they shouldn't have split up in the middle of a vamp-county.
He didn't get to regret it much longer as he lost consciousness with another blow.
Sam was really, really annoyed at Dean, which was nothing knew, but when they were this far gone into vampire-infested places it wasn't as easily ignored.
Not that vampires these days were all killing humans. Sam had to admit, most of them seemed like normal people now that they could quell their thirst with True Blood. It meant one less baddie species to hunt, but it also created a hell of a lot of tension between hunters and their former game.
Sam knew there were old vampires who just used True Blood as a cover for much more nefarious purposes, but after the Great Revelation it wasn't their job anymore. It was the police and IRS' job to sort them out. Still, you didn't push your luck around these parts, and you didn't advertise that you were a hunter.
Apparently, you didn't advertise that you were a vamp always either. The girl they had rescued from a vengeful spirit turned out to be one herself. She had a nasty cut on her arm so she had let Sam drive the car. He had wanted to stop so he could look at it, but she told him to stop at the bar they passed so she could get a True Blood. She felt thirsty, she said.
Sam had tried not to freak out. She seemed perfectly normal. She even met a couple of friends at the bar, all sitting and drinking True Blood. Sam hadn't really felt inclined to insult them, so he let her buy him a drink and tell the others who he had saved her from her annoying dead grandmother.
On the way back to the motel (the vamps had disappeared off to a club of some sort) Sam realised his phone wasn't working. It must have been damaged when he fell while fighting off the spirit, or maybe the batteries were dead.
The motel was empty. He figured Dean might be taking his time covering the grave again, or maybe the jerk had gone to a bar. He hadn't seen him at Merlotte's though, and it was getting pretty late. How long had it taken him to walk back? Sam borrowed the phone in the reception. Dean's phone rang for ages before it got picked up, only it wasn't Dean. Sam knew it instantly; the breathing was off. After a beat of silence a voice spoke teasingly.
'If you're looking for your hunting buddy he's all tied up at the moment.' Sam willed himself calm.
'Where is he? What do you want?' Sam knew it was pointless to hope they wanted anything else than to slowly drain Dean and then kill him.
'We're having a party,' the voice said. 'And your pal here was nice enough to bring the drinks.' Sam heard mocking laughter in the background. He closed his eyes and punched the wall in frustration.
'Where are you?'
'I think one hunter is enough for tonight. Maybe you can come by tomorrow.' The phone went dead and Sam felt his knees go weak. Shit, this was bad. They had gotten out of bad before, but this was different. The vampires were going to kill Dean slowly, just because of what he was, and Sam didn't even know were to start looking.
Then he remembered the vampire club they had been talking about at the bar. Fangtasia, wasn't it? If Sam could get there before sun-up and ask around maybe one of the vamps would talk to him? He knew not all of them were killers, like the girl he had saved- okay, so maybe she hadn't needed as much saving as they had thought, but she hadn't known shit about getting rid of vengeful spirits so they had helped her out at least. Maybe she was there and knew who to ask.
Sam knew he would have to leave his weapons behind, but kept a knife in his boot just in case. The guy in the reception knew the club and gave him directions. He stole the first car he saw in the parking lot and drove like a bat out of hell to Fangtasia.
The club was cheesy as hell. Sam could barely contain rolling his eyes. He tried to look inconspicuous, but his damn height, as usual, was making that difficult. People were mostly too drunk or too high on some drug to notice him, though. He looked around for the girl, but the place was so dark he doubted he would be able to find her. He continued to scan the crowd, hoping.
He stopped short when his eyes landed on a vampire sitting alone on a raised dais. It looked like a VIP seating area, with the main chair definitely reminiscent of a throne. The vampire was slouched in it, looking bored. He was... really good looking. Sam swallowed. He would never, ever tell Dean that he sometimes found vampire paleness attractive. He wasn't a fangbanger or anything, but he could appreciate their ethereal qualities without feeling guilty... most of the time.
This vampire, however, looked regal on top of everything else. He was an old one, that was obvious. Sam didn't like to think about old vampires. It made the history-geek in him itch. He wanted to question them, to learn how they had survived the centuries. It was too fascinating to ignore.
He was moving through the crowd towards the vamp before he could stop himself. This one looked like he owned the place, and probably did, so maybe he knew which vampires were more likely to kidnap a hunter. When the vamp finally looked towards Sam and spotted him, Sam kept his face a mask. Which way was the best to play this? He went for straight-forward.
'You the boss around here?' he asked when he stood in front of the dais. The slouched vampire hadn't moved, but Sam noted he had tensed.
'Who wants to know?'
'I'm Sam Winchester, and I'm looking for my brother.'
'You're a hunter,' the vamp said. Sam kept his posture. He couldn't help but be a little impressed though.
'How did you know?' The vamp smiled. It was a very handsome smile, but Sam really didn't have time to think about that now. Focus, Sammy, he heard Dean say in his head.
'Your walk,' the vamp said. 'We don't like hunters in here. I would ask you to leave. Now.'
Shit, Sam thought. The vamp looked away pointedly, seeming to be more interested in the mindless crowd. Since he couldn't just leave without trying, Sam stepped up on the dais. It was his go-to intimidation technique and although he knew in his mind that it wouldn't work on a old vampire no matter how short the guy was, his body didn't seem to have gotten the memo.
'I need to find my brother. A gang of vampires kidnapped him and they're going to drain him, kill him and dump his body somewhere. Maybe even somewhere close to this place? A murdered hunter isn't exactly the sort of thing you want around this law-abiding establishment is it?' Sam stared down at the vampire, knowing he might be killed for his trouble if this was the kind of vampire who didn't give a shit about being law-abiding. The vampire stared up at him with eyes that seemed both incredibly alive and dead at the same time. Sam almost mistook it for passion, if he didn't know better. Old vamps like this were rumoured to be zombie-like. Hunters liked to think of them as the cold-hearted businessmen of the vampire-world.
Slowly, the vampire placed his hands on the throne's armrests. He pushed himself up and Sam made a point of not stepping back. The closer he was the more his height was an advantage. He was surprised, shocked actually, when the vampire straightened and looked Sam straight in the eye.
They were almost, if not exactly, the same height. Sam knew his surprise must have shown on his face because the vampire smiled again. Not a cruel or mocking smile, but a pleased smile, as if he too had missed being able to look someone in the eye.
'Well, Sam Winchester,' he said. 'My name is Eric and I am a law-abiding vampire, actually. What proof do you have that your brother was kidnapped?'
'I called his cell and a vamp picked up. He said they were going to have a party and that my brother was going to be the drink.' Sam tried not to lose focus as he was staring into those supernatural eyes. Eric seemed to be finding something interesting to stare at in Sam's eyes too.
'You and your brother are not like other hunters,' the vamp said.
'You've seen him?' Sam asked urgently. 'When? Was he with someone?'
'He was looking for you actually,' Eric said. He finally stepped back and to the side, indicating someone over. Sam watched a pretty girl vampire come over, also old. Eric whispered something in her ear. She looked skeptical, but shrugged in defeat and sauntered off. Eric turned back to Sam, who was waiting impatiently.
'Do you know where he is?'
'I may have an inkling,' he answered cryptically and Sam sighed in frustration. 'Come with me, we do not have much time.'
Jesus, what was he doing? Sam asked himself as he followed Eric outside. He was getting help from a vampire. Eric asked which car Sam had come in and Sam pointed to the rusty heap he had stolen.
'Do you have a weapon?' Eric asked as they approached a car.
'I have a knife,' Sam admitted. Eric opened the door and got in. Sam did the same on the passenger side.
'Then I suggest you stay out of my way,' Eric said as they drove off at high speed.
'Why are you helping me?' Sam asked, even though he knew it probably wasn't a good idea to point out the vampire's unusual actions.
'Because I have no interest in bringing both the police and a bunch of hunters down on my jurisdiction. We're trying to keep the peace around here.'
'Yes, I am the sheriff.' Sam tried not to laugh out loud at the absurdity of vampires being organised to that extent, but it sort of made sense. That's how they managed to so quickly distribute True Blood and get used to the Great Revelation. They just brought everything out in the open. For a split second Sam actually admired their ingenuity.
'You know who's taken Dean?'
'A bunch of idiotic new-borns rolled into town a few nights ago. I knew they were trouble. We don't like vampires without masters or pasts. There are vampires who live outside of our communities. They're usually the ones who get themselves killed my hunters, so it would stand to reason they're also the ones who like to take out a little vengeance.' Sam swallowed heavily at the thought of the vengeance the vampires were putting Dean through.
'Is it far?'
'They're hold up in an old barn. New-borns have so little imagination.' Sam couldn't help the tiny smile Eric's almost disappointed tone produced. The vampire looked over to see Sam's reaction and added in a more serious tone, 'You focus on getting your brother. I'll take care of the vampires.'
'Okay... thank you.' Eric locked eyes with him and Sam was pretty sure they would have driven off the road if not for the vampire's supernatural abilities at multitasking.
'You're welcome,' he whispered before turning back to the road and taking a sharp turn onto a dirt path.
The barn lay abandoned on the edge of an overgrown field. They could see flickering lights within and even hear laughter, bottles breaking and music; all the typical sounds of a party. They parked a good way off and approached silently. Sam had his knife out, though it felt woefully inadequate in his hand.
A scream cut through all other noise and Sam's heartbeat went up to battle-mode. That was Dean, and he was in pain. They were almost at the barn door now.
'I'll go around back,' Eric whispered right in Sam's ear. 'Wait until I have them distracted and then get your brother. Get back in the car and drive. Don't look back.' Sam only intended to glance at the vampire in an "are you sure" fashion, but ended up being practically nose-to-nose with the guy. Sam swallowed and Eric smiled. Then he was gone, faster than Sam could blink. He refocused on the door and crept closer, looking through the spaces between the old wood.
Dean was tied to a chair in the middle of the room. His jacket was gone and the t-shirt he had been wearing that morning was in tatters. Sam could see bite marks all over his neck and chest. He was breathing heavily, gritting his teeth. The vampires laughed and danced to music coming from an iPod hooked up to speakers.
'I'll kill you sons' of bitches,' Dean growled when one vampire approached, clearly intending to take another drink.
'Sure you will, little hunter,' the vamp laughed. There were four of them as far as Sam could count, though the girl-vamp lay passed out in a pile of hay. Another vamp was leaning over her, kissing her neck. The fourth one was dancing, smiling with a blood-stained mouth. Sam tightened his hold on the knife.
Suddenly, the far wall was kicked through, rousing the sleeping girl and calling everyone's attention. Eric appeared in the man-sized hole. He looked, in a word, terrifying. Sam now knew without a doubt that the vampire had never wanted to kill him because that look was obviously reserved for others.
The vampire by Dean hissed like a cat and sprang at Eric. The two fell backwards out into the night. The others were at first unsure of what to do, but then all three of them jumped out after the pair. Sam made his move.
Dean didn't even notice Sam had arrived until he was cutting the ropes.
'Sam, thank god,' Dean muttered. 'Get me out.'
'Working on it.' The rope broke and Dean got the other arm while Sam did the legs. He helped his brother stand. The blood-loss must have been severe because Dean didn't even pretend he could manage on his own. 'Quick,' he muttered. Sam was worried he was losing consciousness.
They got to the car without trouble and Sam drove off. He glanced in the rear-view mirror more than once, but other than that he didn't look back. It felt wrong, even though it was just vampires. He hoped Eric would be okay. He was clearly old and powerful. He had moved faster than Sam could see. Surely he could handle four baby-vamps? He glanced at Dean when heard a groan.
'I think we need a hospital,' he said.
'No, no, I'm okay,' Dean said. He sounded stronger, but that could be faked.
'You've lost a lot of blood, dude.'
'Nah, not that much. It's just a bunch of cuts, but they aren't deep. They only took a few mouthfuls each.'
'Yeah,' Dean sighed. 'Just get me some bandages and a drink.' Sam decided he would ignore the last part. 'How did you find me?'
'I didn't...' Sam said.
'Tell me in the morning,' Dean muttered.
Morning came and went with both of them passed out. Sam had tended Dean's wounds and had been very glad to see that he hadn't suffered too much blood-loss. They had gone the whole night awake, so it was no wonder both of them shut down and slept through the day.
Sam was awakened by a knock on the door. He thought it was probably the receptionist wanting more money. He didn't even realise the time, or perhaps he was too groggy to think clearly. He opened the door wider than he should have.
'Eric,' the name came out in a breath. Sam's mind clicked on. 'You're okay.'
'Yes,' Eric answered. He had that smile on him. Sam blushed at his comment. He sounded idiotic.
'I mean, I'm glad you're okay. Thank you.'
'I'm glad you are okay as well,' Eric replied. Sam's face heated up even more. He hoped Dean was still asleep, but didn't want to turn and look and bring Eric's attention to him. He leaned on the door frame, closing the door a bit so that his body filled up the opening, blocking the room. 'The vampires won't be bothering you again.'
'You killed them?' Sam asked. Eric nodded. Sam wasn't entirely sure how he was suppose to feel about that. He was glad they were dead of course, but it forced him to think of Eric as a killer. A killer of his own kind.
'Despite the Great Revelation,' Eric said quietly, 'these matters are best settled in house, so to speak.'
'Yeah,' Sam agreed.
'Is your brother all right?'
'Yeah, he's...' Sam couldn't help but glance behind him. Dean was sound asleep. His chest was covered in band-aids and bandages for the more serious bites. 'Fine.'
'Then I will leave you.' Eric turned to leave and Sam's stomach did a weird flip, like he had dropped something off a high cliff and realised he wouldn't get it back.
'Wait,' he said. Eric stopped and looked back with a raised eyebrow. Sam floundered. 'I...' Abruptly, Eric stepped closer. So close Sam's eyes went wide and he held his breath. Eric placed one hand on the door frame and then reached for Sam's face with the other. Maybe he was being glamoured, but it didn't really feel like that. It felt like...
Eric's hand cupped his cheek. His eyes were intense, alive and searching. Not dead at all, really. In fact the look was almost sweet. Sam stood still and allowed Eric to lean in.
The kiss was much softer than Sam had anticipated. He had never kissed a vampire, so he didn't really know what to expect, but this wasn't it. His eyes slid shut and he pressed back. Eric tilted his head and deepened the kiss. Sam felt his head reel. This was nice and... tingly. Like when he had first kissed Jess.
'Sam?' a groggy voice sounded from the bed.
In the next moment Sam was staring at the empty night, his lips still half-puckered.
'Sam, what are you doing?'
He shut the door quickly.
'Nothing. Just thought I heard something.'