A million thanks to shazamy for making this wonderful manip using the incredible manip of the boys made by edanna

Fandom: SPN X-Over Twilight
Title: Possession
Authors: Cas (virtualpersonal) and Fetish of sam_dean_fetish (Cheapen The Moment)
Pairing: Vamp!Sam/Dean, the Cullen family (from Stephenie Meyer’s “Twilight”)
Rating/Warnings: NC 17; Slash; light vamp bloodplay (Sam and Dean are not brothers in this fic), there is one attempted rape scene but not by either of them
Characters: SPN, Twilight and the characters from these t.v. shows and movies/books are not ours, we're just playin' with 'em
Concrits: welcome in comments.

Summary: For years, Sam Cullen has been held and tortured, death denied to him because he's a vampire. When Dean Winchester saves him and Sam gets a whiff of Dean's intoxicating scent, a new sort of torture ensues. He could just end it, end Dean's life and find peace, but their history as well as feelings that run deeper than Dean could ever understand, make that an impossible solution. How far will he allow the human brat of a teenager to push him before all hell explodes? Setting: Partly in Forks.

Prior Chapters Here



"It's nothing Sam. Dead end. I was following a trail, it lead to this club... club happened to have many of 'your people' and mine mixing... imagine that?" He gave Sam a hopeful smile. "Found nothing but a real club, with some more kinky than usual happenings, that's it. Relax now, please?"

Sam quirked a brow, "What trail? And a regular club... with vampires and humans?" he shook his head, "Alice wouldn't go for a joy ride. Try again. And you better hurry, I can hear my brother's footfalls running this way."

"Yeah Sam, a club with vamps and humans. Shocking isn't it? I thought so too." He reached for his jeans and without bothering to get his boxers, pulled them up. "Is he gonna be reasonable? I don't want to have to hurt him." He grabbed a tee shirt.

Sam's lips curved upward, "You? Hurt Jasper?" Sam shook his head, "Not possible. And you still haven't told me what trail. If you want me to talk my brother out of ripping your throat out, you need to spill. Now."

"If you want to prevent me from having to shoot him, stop him." Dean was starting to get pissed. He'd apologized ten times already, and it wasn't something he was used to, and he was tired of it. There was nothing more he could tell Sam, other than by creating facts out of thin air, but he didn't really like lying to him.

Pulling the nightstand drawer open, he took out a handful of blue tinged bullets and met Sam's gaze. "It probably won't kill him, but it will hurt like a sonovabitch."

Sam narrowed his eyes, but didn't bother to remind Dean that he could rip the gun from his hand with his TK before Dean ever got a shot off. "The trail, Dean. That's all I want to know." He leaned back against the wall, head rolling to look out the window. "He's here."

In the next second a loud thud sounded at the window as Jasper jumped up, hands against the glass, fangs bared, eyes an inky black.

"Open it. I don't want it broken again." Dean loaded the gun then stood next to Sam. "I thought maybe the place was a vampire's buffet, alright? I wasn't gonna stop 'em, I wasn't hunting 'em, I just wanted to know what was going on. I went in, saw... and on my way out, some of the guys got suspicious, so Alice helped out by making it look like we were just one of the other couples there. That's it. You gonna help me, help me. If you're not, then go stand on the sidelines and get some popcorn."

Sam reached down with one hand and unlocked the window, eyes on Dean, before he stepped away, using his TK to snatch the gun from Dean's grasp as he did.



The window slid up, obviously from Sam's TK and Jasper, leaped inside, tackling Dean to the floor.



Sam stood looking down at the two of them casually, "Hey, Jas. How's it goin'?" he grinned, spinning the gun on one finger.

"Sonova... " Dean cursed, trying desperately to push Jasper off. He punched him in the face, "get the fuck off."

Jasper heard the sounds of Dean's rushing blood, heard his heart pumping... and already he was seeing red, but the painless punch made him grow wilder with anger. Getting up, he picked Dean up and threw him to the far wall at the television, and scrambled toward him, unable to fight his predatory instincts. "I will tear you to shreds."

Gaze intent on the fight, Sam walked nonchalantly and stood beside where Dean who’s been thrown to the ground. "Okay, Jasper. That's enough," he told his brother softly.

"Like hell, it is." Jasper pushed Sam and headed straight for Dean who'd rolled away and was now wielding a useless knife. Eyes dark with uncontrolled anger, he dove at Dean.

Using his leg, Dean shoved a table in front of him, rolling away again while Jasper crashed into it. He was only buying time, unless he could make it down the stairs and grab the chains or Sam gave up the gun. "Sam?" He put his hand out, and when he saw his so called boyfriend refuse to give it to him, he headed for the stairs.



Jasper made a dash toward Dean to cut him off and Sam leapt at him, colliding with a loud crashing sound, before rolling on the floor, locked in combat. Sam refused to hit his brother, instead taking every blow Jasper gave, only holding him off, his eyes growing dark in his anger. "Dammit, Jasper! Stop!" Sam grunted out, as they rolled, but Jasper wasn't listening.



Teeth snapped at one another, growls leaving them. The window opened and closed on it's own, furniture floating just off the floor, as Sam held back his fury.

Jasper's fangs sank into Sam's shoulder with a low snarl as they rolled, crashing into objects, splintering some, knocking over others.

"Sam!" At the sight of blood, Dean almost dove into the fray but seeing a chair leg get crushed between the two vampires' bodies made him rethink that. He should get the chains, but he couldn't look away, that and the fact that the chains were a bit of a sore topic, even though they'd been put to good uses lately. Across the room, he saw his gun twirling in the air. "Great."

Dodging the vampires rolling on the ground, he went to grab it out of the air, cocked it and pointed it at Jasper. "Lay off, now."

Sam looked up, teeth clenched to see Dean holding the gun on Jasper. Dammit! What the hell was with these two!?

Sam concentrated on the gun, sending it flying again as he shot Dean a dirty look, just before his attention was drawn back to his brother as he was head butted hard. "Jasper!" Sam gritted out, just before Jasper went flying backward from him, slamming against a wall and staying there, held by Sam's TK.

Shaking his hand, which hurt from the force of the gun having been pulled out of it, Dean crossed the room and stood right in front of the vampire who looked like he was pinned to the wall like a butterfly. "I don't care how many times you've gone through school, but you need to go to anger management 101. What the hell? I told you I was sorry I got her involved, but you know dude... she's got a mind of her own. And she can protect herself. You're taking this way too far."

Jasper glared at Dean through dark eyes, "You put her in danger. MINE!"



Sam had pulled up off the floor and walked over to stand before his brother, "Yeah, he did, and he fucked up. It's why I let you pull the first punch, but I told you it was done. MINE!"

Dean looked between them. God... had he sounded like such a Neanderthal when he'd shouted the same thing about Sam having taken someone else's blood? He just quietly moved closer to Sam, but his eyes still dared Jasper to try anything.

Jasper met Sam's eyes, and finally nodded.

At Jasper's nod, Sam released him and Jasper gracefully landed on his feet. "I don't disagree with you, but I won't let you hurt him either." Sam told him as Jasper moved to walk past.



Sam glanced at Dean, "We need to talk about your ideas of vampire control. He is still my brother and if you would have shot him," Sam shook his head, "all bets would be off."

"So what, I'm supposed to stand there and take it? Not happening, you should know that," he tossed back, glaring at Jasper's back as the vampire finally leaped out the window. Once again... the room was a mess, damned vampires...

Sam frowned at Dean, "I had it under control. I wouldn't let anything happen to you. When are you going to trust me?"

Dean pointed at him. "You were just as angry as he was. You left me defenseless. Trust you," he muttered, striding across the room and picking his gun up off the floor. He glared at Sam as he emptied it of bullets.



"You had me. Far from defenseless. And that gun," he nodded to it, "Jasper would have been so angry he would have killed you, I wouldn't have been able to stop him. Jasper is new to our way of life... he isn't good at controlling his hunger all the time."

"Almost ate you," Dean pointed out dryly, staring at the hole in the back of his shirt. He sat heavily down and dropped both the bullets and gun into the nightstand. "And I'd be surprised if he didn't crack the t.v." That was what made him really sad, everything else that had been wrecked, he could deal with.

Sam looked toward the television, and shrugged, "I'll buy you a new one. A bigger one," he looked back at Dean. "IF you keep your tongue out of my sister's mouth and your ass out of vampire and human clubs," he gave him a pointed look before reaching down and pulling his tee up and over his head, tossing it onto the floor.



Sam tried to look over his shoulder at the bite, "Is it really bad? It's healing already, right?" he mumbled to Dean, quirking a brow. It wasn't the first time he'd been bitten by one of his brothers in a fight and it likely wouldn't be the last.

Slightly tensing when Sam brought up where his tongue had been, he relaxed when the moment passed. Looking at Sam's shoulder, he shook his head. "It's healed, but you're a bleeder. I thought--" He clamped his mouth shut. "You've got..." he pointed at Sam's head, "leaves in your hair. Catch anything?"

Sam frowned at Dean as he reached up and pulled leaves from his hair, "You thought what? Yeah, we got a few. I left Emmett feeding on my last kill," he shrugged, "Sometimes it's the thrill of the hunt that's better than actually feeding." He hung his head, "Dad says I get that from what happened to me. Says I was never like that before," he shook his head, "I don't remember."

Dean lifted his brows at Sam's tone, then got off the bed and put his arms around his waist. "Nothing wrong with that, Sam. Thrill of the hunt is the best high, I get that. Everyday." He nodded. "Now... you gonna kiss me, or am I gonna have to hunt your ass down? It's been three days..."

Sam smirked, "Hunt me down? That would be the longest hunt of your life," he shook his head, "you'd never catch me, so I better just kiss you I guess." He leaned in, slanting his mouth over Dean's, tongue darting in to run the tip of his tongue teasingly across the roof of Dean's mouth.

Groaning softly, Dean moved his hands down over Sam's ass, pulling him closer as he tangled his tongue with Sam's. This was a much better homecoming. Much much better. "Tonight's excitement... it get you horny at all?" he asked, pressing his hip into Sam's groin and hoping.

Sam grinned against Dean's lips, "Wrestling always gets me horny." He chuckled at the look on Dean's face and shrugged, "You asked."

"But you wrestled with you brother." Dean pushed Sam away. "We're gonna have to start over here."

Sam laughed, "He's not my real brother, and I thought about you anyway..." he quirked a brow, "We really getting into a conversation about what makes us hard? Cause I got this sister..." Sam let his sentence trail off, though he gave Dean a pointed look.

Dean groaned. "You know I can get hard just watching someone crossing the road, it's not the... let's drop it," he suddenly nodded, his agreement.

Sam nodded, "Probably a good idea." He moved to sit down on the bed, "So, vampire movie?" he asked, reaching for the remote and clicking on the television.

"Your brother broke it," Dean pointed out. "How about we trigger a vampy moment, hmm?" He got on the bed, on his knees behind Sam, massaging his shoulders as he kissed his temple. "You're supposed to relax, not tense," he chuckled, leaning in and letting Sam feel his erection develop against his back.

Sam remained tense, "And if I relax you get to have a night of dreams while I sit here and do what? Masturbate on you?" he huffed, turning to look at Dean, then freezing at the look on Dean's face, "I was kidding!"

"Damn." Disappointed, Dean moved his hips back and forth, getting a good rhythm. "You sure?"

Sam moaned softly, "Sure? 'bout?" he asked, not able to follow logic as his teeth started to ache and the blood pounded in his temples. "Mm... maybe not... maybe. Dunno."

He slid his hands down Sam's chest, loving how the muscles tightened and twitched under his touch, especially when he moved lower to his abs. "Just thinking about it is making me damned hard, you feel it?" he asked near Sam's ear, pressing his straining arousal against his lover. It was sheer torture, the best kind. As his breathing became labored, Dean came up with another idea. "Think you can do this? Get off on my back or stomach?" he asked thickly, wondering how it would feel.

Sam closed his eyes a moan leaving him, "God..." he breathed, licked his lips, "I - I, yeah, I think so. I don't want to hurt you. Excited, what if I can't stop?" His hand moved, digits curling into fists where they rested against the mattress. Sam swallowed hard, "Want you so bad."

"Then I'll slide into the best dream ever, that's what." Course that was a best case scenario with Sam only taking blood and not all of it, but once the idea of Sam masturbating against him had been planted in his head, that was all Dean could focus on. Still leaning firmly against Sam, he stretched and grabbed two leather wrist bands from the drawer. When he had them on and brought his hands over Sam's shoulders in front of Sam’s face, wrists together so it looked just like he was tied up. He kept fucking against Sam, not saying much, but sensing his lover's rising lust.

Sam's eyes locked on the leather bands on Dean's wrists, a sharp gasp leaving him. His cock twitched and pulsed in his jeans, aching, straining. The blood pounded hard in Sam's temples, his teeth aching. Sam groan/growled as he tilted his head back, looking down at the 'cuffs' from under lowered lids. "Dean..."

"Yeah baby, anything you want. Where do you wanna fuck me? Tell me, I'll make it happen." Seeing the outline of Sam's burgeoning dick had him sucking his breath in. "You're so fucking hard, let me help you with it," he kept grinding his cock against Sam’s back, getting the relief he needed.

"Oh God..." Sam groaned out the words as he turned, pushing Dean back against the bed. "Want you tied down, want to feel you, want to taste you, want to own you, possess you... " Sam groaned, lowering himself down onto Dean, and dipped his head to place soft kisses along his neck.

Dean curled his fingers around the railing of the headboard, forcing his wrists together to keep the illusion of being tied up. Lifting his face, he let Sam torture him with heated kisses, groaning when he tried to make their mouths meet but Sam escaped. "Take your pants off, I wanna feel you so bad."

Sam quickly pulled up, moved probably faster then Dean's human eyes could see him, could follow him and returned to his previous position, naked. Grinding against Dean, Sam groaned. "Fast enough for you?" Sam murmured, moaning, breath hissing out between clenched teeth, "Need you outta these jeans. Now." Sam pulled back, unfastening the button and zipper, all but tearing the fabric as he peeled it off Dean in his haste before he laid back down on Dean, grinding his hips against him, a low groan tearing from his throat.

Lifting his hips, Dean echoed the sounds Sam made. As waves of heat crashed over Dean, he wanted to put his arms around Sam, pull him impossibly closer. Instead, he kept up the pretense of being tied... it was a small price to pay for this, for having Sam on top of him, for being skin to skin with him, grinding against him with as much pressure as he could get. He couldn't believe how quickly Sam had agreed to this, or how quickly he'd gotten them naked... usually it took a lot more persuasion, and he'd demand the chains before they got this far.



"Oh God Sam, you feel so good," Dean wrapped one leg around Sam's, biting his lower lip as their cocks came together hard. "Baby, please don't stop... keep going." A part of him knew that too soon, Sam would move up his body and masturbate against his stomach. Another part of him couldn't wait for that new experience.

Sam thrust against Dean, his hands moving over his flesh, up his side and down as he braced his weight on his opposite forearm against the mattress. Gripping Dean's hip, Sam pulled Dean upward, crashing their pelvis' together roughly, fingertips biting into tender flesh hard enough to bruise before running back up his side.



His mouth devoured, first Dean's lips, then his throat, his shoulders, always coming back to the pulse point at Dean's neck, his tongue running over the artery as Sam's teeth ached stronger, sweeter with each passing moment, the blood pounding in his temples and that damn Siren's song from Dean's blood filling his ears. "Oh God... want more... more..." Sam panted out the words, small moans and grunts leaving him as he ground their hips together in abandon. All thought about how easily humans break, gone from his mind, all that was there was the incredible lust and bloodlust mixing and mingling together, causing Sam to nearly tremble with its intensity.

Each time Sam's mouth insistently went back to his throat, Dean's pulse jumped to attention. It took every last shred of control for Dean to prevent himself from arching up and rubbing his throat against Sam's mouth, from demanding he 'do it.' He was so lost in the sensations, the heat coursing through his body and sinking deep in his belly, it was a while before his mind registered pain. "Sam... Sam... slower, gentler," he said, biting his lip as Sam threatened to pulverize him with the strength with which he ground against him. "Sam! Please..."

"Hmm?" Sam shook his head, "More," he breathed the word, before slanting his mouth over Dean's, sharp fangs scratching against sensitive tender flesh of Dean's mouth, his lips, his tongue. All the while Sam continued his relentless pace against Dean's body. His arching need, hunger and bloodlust driving him beyond rational thought.

Dean's hand slipped off the railing as survival instincts kicked in. "No. Stop... slow down!" he shouted, trying to roll Sam over even as blinding heat mixed with pain each time Sam fucked against him. "Sam? Sam?" He gripped Sam's chin, and forced him to look at him, really look in his eyes. "Hurting. Stop." He let out a few heated breaths, and repeated himself.

Sam's dark eyes looked down into green, his lip curled, revealing his fangs, a low snarl sounding deep in his throat before his gaze shot to Dean's neck, the pulse point there and back. Hands clenched and unclenched as Sam tried to make the words sink in, make himself stop, calm down. Sam lowered his head to Dean's neck, his tongue darting out to lick across the artery just before his fangs pierced tender skin. He didn't mean to do it, it was as if the flood gates had opened and this was the resulting tsunami that would not be denied.

Dean hadn't expected the burning pain from the bite, but it was over instantly and he was pulled into another world as Sam drank from him. Groans of ecstasy broke from Dean even as he quickly lost the ability to insist Sam slow down, or to fight him, or to even know that Sam was crushing him, punishing his body with his incredible strength. Minutes felt like hours as in his mind’s eye, he saw and felt Sam slip up his body, thrusting his hard arousal against Dean's abs and chest, working himself up. Dean smiled, "yes... that's it Sam... yes..."

From outside the house, Emmett, who'd been sent by Carlisle to check on Sam, heard Dean's pleas that Sam stop. Those were followed by sounds of pleasure, so he hesitated. Then he thought 'fuck it,' the worst that would happen is that he'd have teasing material for the two of them. One leap, and he was on the window ledge, looking in.

The first thing that hit him was the almost overpowering scent of blood. He knew by now that Sam had taken Dean's blood and successfully stopped, but watching him lap at Dean now, seeing Sam's naked body moving carelessly, with no apparent attempt at gentleness, Emmett knew Sam had lost his control. "Sam, stop."

He dropped into the room and strode toward the bed, "You're going to kill him."

Sam wasn't listening, he was taking, finally, at long last he was taking, exactly the way he wanted, without holding back, without stopping, without thought, just taking from Dean. Body and blood, finishing whenever they both wore out, and not caring what order it happened in.



Emmett growled low, "Sam! Dammit!" he reached the bed, grabbing Sam around the waist to pull him off, only Sam clung, refusing to let go.



"Goddammit! You're gonna fuckin' kill him, Sam! Samuel!" Emmett yelled at him, taking a step back to get a running leap, before tacking his brother off, they both crashed to the floor, Emmett holding Sam down as he growled and struggled to get back to his prey, baring his fangs at his brother mindlessly, eyes dark as damnation.



"Sam, stop. Calm down. It's me, it's Emmett."


Sam looked up at his brother, slowly relaxing against the floor, as he fought to reach the surface, to reach through the haze of lust and bloodlust clouding his brain. Emmett continued to hold him tightly down as he waited for Sam to snap out of it. "Emmett?" Sam voice was strained, nearly weak, and very confused.



"Yeah, that's me." Emmett huffed, glancing toward the bed before looking back at Sam again, "If you didn't want him anymore, could you at least have not let me find you two like this? Ros is going to be so upset."



Sam frowned even more in confusion.



Emmett shrugged a shoulder, "Oh, this has ruined sex for me for like...EVER."

Dean arched off the mattress, completely oblivious of the rivulets of blood running down from his throat to his chest. He groaned, "almost there Sam.... almost there."

Sam's attention snapped to Dean on the bed, eyes widening slightly before he narrowed them looking back at Emmett, "What did you do to Dean!?!"



Emmett pulled off his brother, "Me!? I didn't do a damn thing to him, save his life maybe. Save him from his blood crazed boyfriend." Emmett glared back, watching as Sam pulled up from the floor.



Emmett walked to the bed, not breathing, so he wouldn't be effected by the blood still oozing from the wounds in Dean's neck. "You fucked him up good, dude. What the hell were you two thinkin'?" Emmett shook his head. "Wait until I tell Dad."



Sam was standing, looking down at Dean with a pained expression, his dead heart aching. What had he done? Oh God... Emmett's comment about their father had his head snapping up, his gaze locking with Emmett's. "Dad?"



Emmett nodded, "Who do you think sent me here? I came home early. No fun hunting alone. Dad sent me up to check on you..." he looked back at Dean and shook his head, "good thing he did too," he looked at Sam, "or you'd be burying your boyfriend later tonight." With that he turned toward the window, "Dad will likely be by, so, uh, put some clothes on huh? No need for Mom to suffer along with Ros." He gave a visible shudder and jumped out the window.

Dean's hands kneaded the bedsheets as his eyes rolled back. He muttered Sam's name and more words of encouragement, lost in a happy place.

Biting his lip, Sam tore his gaze from the now empty window and looked down at Dean, moving to sit on the bedside next to him, pulling Dean into his arms. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Why? Why did you let me? Why didn't you stop me?" he spoke softly even though he knew Dean couldn't hear him.



Sam nuzzled against Dean's neck, blood smearing on the side of Sam's face, but he didn't care, didn't even acknowledge it, as tears stung his eyes.



Pulling back, Sam sniffled and looked around the room, finding the gun and special blue glowing bullets on the night stand he repositioned Dean in his arms and reached for a bullet. Turning it over in his hand, he found a spot that looked sharp enough and pulled his other hand free, laying Dean in his lap. Using his strength, Sam used the back edge of the bullet to slice a deep gash in his forearm, before setting it down and pressing the wound to Dean's neck as he picked him back up, cradling Dean against him. He didn't know what else to do, didn't know how to fix what he had done, but Sam knew how to heal.

Long minutes later, Carlisle came through the window. At the sight of his son's face blotched with tear stained blood as he held onto his human lover made Carlisle pause. He could hear the faint heartbeat, which told him Dean was alive.

Crossing the room, he started to pull Dean out of Sam's arms. "Sam, let him go," he said gently, but firmly.

Sam's eyes met those of his father as a tear ran down his cheek, "But..." Sam relented, releasing his hold on Dean and moving away. He moved across the room, pulling on sweatpants as his dad looked at Dean. Sam hung his head biting his lip. Nothing he could say would make it right, nothing he could do would fix it. "Is he..." Sam paused, crossing his arms nervously over his chest, "is he gonna be okay?"

Carlisle ran his palm over Dean's forehead and cheek, noting he was cool to the touch. He opened Dean's eyes, and checked his unseeing pupils. "Get dressed. We need to get him to the hospital for a transfusion." Checking the wound on Dean's throat, he told Sam to get him a wet towel, and clean himself up as well.

Then he started to check Dean's body, noting the strange angle of his arm and the bruises on his body. As his son went to do as he asked, Carlisle picked up Dean's clothes from the ground and started to dress him.

Sam wordlessly went to get the towel his father had asked for, bringing it back quickly. Leaden feet carried him back into the bathroom where he cleaned up quickly, dressing in the clothes he had grabbed up off the floor when he had walked in.



Transfusion. Dean needed a transfusion. He had taken too much. Too much. He'd been out of control and taken far too much blood. What if something happened? What if Dean didn't get better? What if he hated him for it? Emmett and his own father weren't very happy with him, not that he could blame them. Oh God, what if Dean hated him now? 'My father would be rolling in his grave if he knew about us.' Ttears spilled down his cheeks as he walked out of the bathroom. Maybe Dean's father would be right... monsters and humans shouldn't mix...

"Sam, get a hold of yourself. This isn't the time," Carlisle said, hearing Sam's sniffles. "I think he'll be alright." A few moments later, when Carlisle started to lift Dean up, he was pushed away.

"Wrong smell. Sam?" It was more a demand than a question, coming from Dean who was deep in a trance-like state.

Carlisle shook his head, "Son, can you manage to take him, before he starts to insult me again?" A half smile played on his lips as he made way for Sam.

Sam looked up slightly, and nodded as he made his way over. Bending, he slid his arms under Dean's back and knees, lifting him as though he were light as a feather. Sam looked at Carlisle and nodded, "I got him."



They made their way down the stairs, Sam leading the way and actually used the front door to go out. Sam carried Dean toward his car and paused, "Impala has more room," he offered to Carlisle. "You can drive, I'll sit in the back with Dean."



* * *



The stretcher that came out for Dean after Carlisle had gone into the hospital had unnerved Sam, the number of doctors and nurses hovering over Dean had made it worse, but when they asked him to wait outside the room they took Dean into, Sam nearly lost it there in the hall.



Now he stood beside Dean's bed, holding onto Dean's hand, reminding himself every few minutes not to hold too tightly, as he watched the blood drip down through the IV and into Dean. It was his fault, it was all his fault. He had done this, had hurt Dean. Golden hazel eyes, shining with more unshed tears looked down at the arm wrapped in a splint. Carlisle had told him it wasn't quite broken, but the bone was dislocated and cracked.



Humans break so easily. It was what Carlisle always told them, it was what he knew to be true, they all did, all of the Cullens. They had to be extra careful with a human, like china, they would crack and break, crumble in their hands.



"Dean..." Sam sniffled, choked back his tears, "I'm so sorry."

He was so tired, but he heard Sam's voice and it made him smile. He recognized the feeling of disorientation and knew it meant he'd been in a trance. "Did we get there? Did you go all the way, Sam," he asked, certain that not everything he'd felt and seen had been planted in his mind.

Sam's brows furrowed before he shook his head, "No," he whispered out the word, voice raw a he choked back a sob, "Shshsh, just rest." Sam told him as he reached his free hand out to run his fingers through Dean's short soft spiky hair.

Dean's smile slowly faded. He gripped Sam's hand and tried to open his eyes. Feeling sadness radiating from Sam, he added, "We will, next time. We'll get there."

Sam shook his head, as he sniffled, pulling his hand back from Dean's hair to wipe at his eyes, "No. We won't. Just rest, Dean, please. Just sleep and rest." Sam glanced up at the IV to see if the blood was nearly finished or not, it was the second bag they had brought in.

That spurred Dean to open his eyes. "Don't you say that, Sammy." Only his voice came out much lower than he'd intended and he felt a little dizzy. His surroundings weren't familiar. This wasn't their bed. And why was Sam standing next to him with his eyes so red...."Your... your brother broke our t.v." He saw Sam nod. "Then... we were naked and we... you sure you didn't get off?" He frowned and tried to sit up, wincing when something pinched his inner arm."What--"

Sam quickly put a hand on Dean's shoulder, "You shouldn't move around. Dad said the transfusions would make you dizzy. Lay back... please." Sam didn't use any pressure on Dean's shoulder to make him lay back, only prevented him from sitting up further, nearly afraid he might do something stupid and hurt him again. "If you don't hold still... I'll - I'll go get the nurse."

"What the hell?" Dean finally looked at the tubes leading the bag above his head, then at the stark white sheets, and the bed railings. He tried again to sit up, but Sam's hand stopped him. "I hate hospitals, what am I doing here." He lifted his other hand and saw the splint but couldn't remember getting injured. "If this is part of the trance-dream ... it is not a good one. Sam?"



Sam's face crumbled, tears filling his eyes as he shook his head, "No, Dean. No, trance. Me. I happened. Emmett saved your life... from me." he sniffled, "You're in here under my father's care. He - he had to tell them that you had gotten in a fight, " he nodded toward Dean's arm, "to explain that, and all the bruises." He sniffled again, shook his head, "I dunno how he explained all the blood loss."

"From you. That's just silly." Discounting Sam's words he started to try to figure out what actually happened when a wet droplet from Sam's eye struck his arm. "I'm not dying... don't." He swallowed, "let me up." As Sam pressed the button to make the bed rise, putting Dean into a sitting position, Dean thought about everything Sam was saying. He remembered some pain, when Sam got too rough with him. That's why his back and hip hurt. His arm, he couldn't explain that. The blood... "Drank too much? Couldn't stop?"



Sam shook his head, tears still rolling down his cheeks, "No," he licked his lips, "I didn't know, didn't realize what I was doing until I was on the floor, Emmett holding me down yelling at me." he sniffled, hung his head, "It was only after his words got through that I... that I knew."

Reaching out, Dean put his hand on Sam's shoulder and pulled him close. "It's alright. Not that hurt. Means I'm special, not like your mint-guy in the bar," he gave a laugh, but saw Sam wasn't joining in or amused. "Wasn't your fault Sam. It's in your nature, like you told me. And I was pushing you."

Sam clung to Dean, burying his face in his shoulder. "I'm sorry," he told him, words muffled against Dean's body and the hospital gown. He sniffled, and slowly pulled back, "I should have known better, I was at fault. I did know better, but I thought... I wanted so much..." he hung his head, shaking it. "Doesn't matter." he finished softly, closing his eyes as he raised a hand to wipe at them.

Stroking Sam's shoulder, Dean tried to comfort Sam, to show him he was fine and nothing bad had happened. But Sam's last words made his blood run cold. "Why doesn't it matter?" His heart started to race and his adrenalin kicked up a notch as he grasped Sam's hand. "You're not leaving me. Sam... tell me you're not." His fingers tightened around Sam's fingers and he refused to let go.


Sam slowly looked up at him, bitter, "You'd be better off," he shook his head as he looked back down, "but no. I'm not leaving. I should. I should leave and keep you safe, " he looked up at Dean, looking miserable, "but I can't."

"Promise." Dean's voice was barely a whisper.

Sam nodded, "Promise. I won't leave you. I..." Sam's face crumbled again, "I love you."

"Me too. Love you." Dean swallowed, then smiled. "Never thought it would be this easy to say it." There was a long moment where he waited expectantly, and then finally spoke again. "Probably a good time to kiss me."

Sam sniffled and gave a small forced smile only to have it fall as he looked at Dean, golden hazel eyes darting. Slowly he raised the hand he held up to his lips and placed a soft kiss on the back of Dean's hand, giving it a small light squeeze before lowering it back against the bed.

Dean frowned. "You know when you called me a 'pain in your ass?'" He started to scoot over in the bed, making sure not to tug on the IV, then looked at Sam again. ""Get on the bed, Sam... or take me home, your choice." He knew that Sam would hesitate and that only blackmail would work.



Sam frowned, brows furrowing as he looked from Dean to the bed and back, "Dean, I don't think it's a good idea... I - I nearly killed you tonight. I - I should stay the hell away from you. Hell, I dunnowhy you aren't telling me to stay the hell away from you..." he shook his head as he spoke, his eyes continuing to stray to the open area of the bed where Dean had moved from. He looked up at Dean, biting his lip, "I can't."

"I don't care, I need you." When Sam didn't move, Dean got a mulish look on his face. He wanted Sam next to him, needed to be touching, to breathe in his scent. After he asked again, and Sam refused, he started to get agitated. His pulse rate was shooting up, the equipment next to him beeping and even after a nurse came in and asked him to rest, he refused.

Sam sighed, as he listed to the nurse and Dean refuse to do as she said, "Dean, please... you need to rest, you..." he glanced at the nurse, "you've been through a lot."



The nurse, huffed as she and Dean held a glaring contest for a few moments, she then looked at Sam, "Okay you, you might be Doctor Cullen's son, but I want you out. If he has no one to talk to he'll have to calm down." She waved Sam toward the door, still eyeing Dean.



Sam turned toward the door, head hanging. He glanced back at Dean over his shoulder as he reached the door, "love you." he said softly.

It took a couple of seconds for Dean to understand what was happening and to protest loudly. "No, he can't go, Sam... Sam!" Seeing that Sam intended to leave him there, Dean started to try to pull out the damned IV with his sprained hand. When the nurse started to chide him, he glared at her. "I know my rights, you can't force me to stay. He leaves, I leave ... it's that simple."

Sam looked back at the nurse who looked at Sam with a huff, "He stays," she pointed at Dean, "You had better calm down. I have a hankerin' to give enema's tonight," she told him with a curt nod, before turning to the door and storming out.



Sam watched her go before looking back at Dean, "I think she's serious."

"Like to see her try," he muttered, swearing at her bedside manners. "You coming? Want you to hold me," he insisted, not understanding why Sam was being so damned uncooperative.


Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "I still think it's not a good idea," he said as he walked back to Dean's bed and slowly eased down beside him, "but if it will get you to calm down and rest... fine," Sam told him, as he opened his arms for Dean to cuddle up to him the way they did at home, or as close to it as the IV would allow. He sighed as he wrapped his arms around Dean, holding him loosely,"Emmett's mad at me. He says we ruined sex for him... forever."

Leaning against Sam's chest, Dean rubbed his cheek against him as he listened. "How? How'd we ruin it? It was beautiful. Wait... he saw us having sex?" Dean hated the idea but was too relaxed against Sam to get too worked up about it just yet.

Sam nodded. "He saw. He tackled me off you. Saved your life, I told you. And no, Dean," he shook his head, "it wasn't beautiful. It was horrible. I was horrible." Sam let out a breath and closed his eyes, "Never gonna happen again, I promise. I won't hurt you ever again," he murmured softly, kissing Dean's head.



The door to Dean's room burst open suddenly as Sam's brothers and sisters walked in.


Sam's eyes snapped open at the sound of their feet as they entered, golden hazel eyes followed them as they walked in.



"Oh that's smart, Sam. I save him from you not three hours ago and you're already back at it? Smooth move, Sam." Emmett huffed, shaking his head.



"Sam, I can't believe this happened. What were you thinking?" Alice asked him.



Ros stood to the side, her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at both Sam and Dean. "Leave them be, if he kills him, then we can say we told him so."



Jasper sighed and looked at Sam, "He feels bad about it," he told the others, then narrowed his gaze at Sam and nodded, "And you should."

Dean's fingers dug into Sam as he raised himself up to face the Cullens. "Lay off, alright? You," he jutted his chin toward Jasper, "were trying to kill me yourself a couple hours ago." He shifted his gaze to Emmett, "And Sam's not 'back' at anything. I made him get in bed with me." He looked at Alice and Ros next. "We just had a slip up, that's all. Happens."

Jasper nodded, "I had reasons and Sam and I understand that. But, he's suppose to take care of what he claims is 'his'."


Emmett quirked a brow, "Uh-huh... sure he isn't," he rolled his eyes, "And this coming from, who was it again? 'all the way Dean'?"



Alice and Ros both sighed though Alice was the one to step up to Sam and run a hand over his hair, as he looked at her tears in his eyes. "You know better, Sam. You know they're made of glass. Where's your control? Where's the Sam I know?" she asked him softly.



Ros huffed, "Went to hell with that one." she nodded toward Dean, "that's where."


Sam sniffled and shook his head, "I didn't mean to do it," he insisted.



Emmett narrowed his eyes, "I had to tackle you off and hold you down to the floor dude! You snarled at me! You were way past 'didn't mean to'."



Alice looked from Sam to Emmett and back, "You don't remember, Sam?" she asked him and bit her lip, "maybe it would be best if you two refrained from anymore sexual stuff."



Sam nodded, "Yeah," he said softly, head hanging as a tear ran down his cheek, "I know."

"No. We are not deciding our sex lives 'by committee', Goddamnit... now get out, all of you, before I get Nurse Rachett in here and tell her you all need enemas." Fuming, Dean ignored them and turned to look up at Sam. "That is not an option Sam, now tell them to get out and mind their own business." Shit, if he didn't feel weak as a kitten, he'd get out of bed and make it happen. Where the hell did they get off thinking they could tell them how to live their lives?

Emmett looked pointedly at his brother, "You had better hope and pray that the wolves at the Res don't hear about this. If this messes with the treaty..." he shook his head, jaw clenched.



"I know." Sam told him softly.



Alice sighed, and ran her hand down Sam's hair, pulling away and turning toward the door. "I expected better from you, Sam."



The others turned to follow her out, but Rosalie stopped at the door and looked back, "If this goes south, then I was right. You should have left him where you found him, Dean," she glanced at Sam, before turning and walking out.

"What the hell?" Forget the tubes, the splint or any weakness he felt, Dean was scrambling to get out of bed to get to Ros and make her take back her hateful words. It was only Sam's arms around him, holding like steel bands that prevented him from following even as he let out out a stream of curses, both aimed at Ros and at Sam for not letting him go. "Fucking let go, Sam... this is not right, goddamit."

"No, Dean. They're right, I messed up. If the wolves at the Res hear about it, there will be trouble and that's my fault. You're injured, I hurt you, the one I claim to love, I hurt you. That's my fault. They're right. I should have fought harder, shouldn't have let go so much, shouldn't have... allowed myself to - to want so much."

"They're right?!" Dean shoved him, though Sam didn't move an inch. "The hell they are... the hell she is. Sam, don't let her talk to you like that. As for the rest, whatever. This is between you and me, not them." He knew all about the werewolves at the res, Sam had told him about the treaty between the wolves and the Cullens. So long as the Cullens never stepped foot on reservation lands protected by the werewolves, and never bit humans, the treaty between them was intact. If they violated it, then the wolves would attack the vampires, and there would be a bloodbath, also making it impossible for the Cullens to live their peaceful and near-normal lives. Even living this close to the reservation, Dean had never realized his neighbors were werewolves, but he wondered if his father had known. He remembered his father spending quite a bit of time with the the residents and council at the reservation, and being quite secretive about it all.


"Sam?" He knew how much power Sam's siblings had over him and was scared to hell that something they said would change things between them.

His thoughts in turmoil, Sam sat quietly thinking about everything his brothers and sisters had said. If the treaty was broken, he'd offer himself as a means to the ends. So that a war didn't start. If they had the vampire who had caused the problem, maybe they'd forgive it and allow his family to remain living their lives in peace among the humans of Forks. Sam leaned his head over and dropped a soft kiss on Dean's head, "Yeah?"

"You're scaring me. Tell me what's going on in your head. Tell me you're not listening to them."

Sam tightened his grip slightly, making sure not to let it be too tight, "Nothing for you to worry about Just rest. Heal." he turned his head, burying his face against Dean's shoulder, "for me."

Still feeling uneasy, Dean nodded and closed his eyes, telling himself Sam had just told him he wasn't gonna leave him. Sam wouldn't lie. He'd be here, and then they could figure stuff out, just the two of them. "Gonna sleep now," he whispered, holding onto Sam, as much as he believed him, a part of him needed to make sure.

Sam laid his head back on the pillow, his hand absently running through Dean's hair like he did so often, "sleep, baby." he told him softly, "I'll be here as long as I can be." he added even softer once he heard the even, steady breathing telling him Dean was asleep.



* * *



Almost a week had passed since Dean got out of the hospital, there had been no ramifications from the werewolves who had no clue about the biting incident, and yet Sam was acting like the world had stopped turning. Worse, he pulled away from Dean anytime Dean tried to initiate any physical contact beyond hugging or being held. That wasn't sitting well with Dean, not at all. A guy could only take so much rejection before blowing up, and that time was drawing close.

When he woke in Sam's arms, Dean had a morning stiffy. Only it had probably been building up for days, since he'd had no relief. Jerking off hadn't felt right, not with his left hand, so here he was, with Sam's scent driving him crazy, his hard body right here half under him, and that tempting mouth inches away. Rolling completely on top of Sam, Dean nudged his aroused cock over Sam's and kissed him. "Mornin' lover."

Sam's eyes darted from the ceiling to Dean's face as he shifted his hips and rear slightly to the side, so they're bodies were no longer aligned. "Good Morning. Did you sleep well?" Sam ran his hand down Dean's back, turning his head to look toward the window before he looked back at him again, "Let me up, I'll go get you coffee and breakfast."

"Uh uh, not hungry for food, or thirsty for coffee." Dean spoke against Sam's lips, then licked along its seam. "Give me your tongue," he said, shifting his body again, this time pressing his cock into Sam's hip.

Sam's body jerked, going ridged and still, though he slowly poked his tongue out of his mouth at Dean. He was sure it wasn't what Dean had meant, but as he lay there looking into Dean's eyes, he couldn't manage to bring himself to care that he was purposfully being hard to get along with. It was keeping Dean safe, and that was the main, important thing.

Before Dean could wrap his mouth around Sam's tongue, it disappeared. He made a frustrated sound and forced his mouth down over Sam's, pushing his tongue inside and kissing him... trying in vain to get him to respond. Again, all he got was nothing. "Did I turn ugly overnight?" he asked, scrambling off Sam and standing next to the bed and letting Sam get an eyeful of his tenting shorts, before his vampire looked away.

"No." Sam told him softly, "You're beautiful as always."

"Show me." Dean leaned over Sam to give him a chance, his mouth hovering over Sam's... aching, burning for the kisses he knew the vampire was capable of giving him.

Sam turned his head, lips pressed in a firm line as he looked up at Dean, "I can't."

Dean didn't hide his anger as he stepped back and stormed to the shower, slamming the door shut behind him. Sonovabitch. How long did he think he could take this?

Later, when he got out of the shower and came back in the room, his breakfast was waiting on him and Sam was looking at him with those eyes that could melt an iceberg. Dean pressed his lips together, gave the food a scathing look and grabbed his shoes and clothes. Storming downstairs, he got dressed in record time and shot out the door.

Sam hung his head as heard heard the front door slam closed. Did he think this was easy for him? Did he think this was what he wanted? No. It was what had to be. For the good of everyone, to keep the peace, for Dean's safety. He'd promised he wouldn't leave, and he wouldn't. But it didn't mean that he had to put Dean in danger again.

That was something he never wanted to do, not ever again.

* * *

When Dean pulled into the parking lot of Ginks and didn't see Sam's eye catching car, he was pretty sure that Sam had forgotten they were going to Bill's birthday bash. The vampire had gone over to his family after school, and Dean bet that was where they filled his head with all the 'don'ts'. Goddammit, his life was going down the toilet because of the Cullens.

Maybe it was better Sam wasn't here. The mood he was getting worked up into, who knew what would happen. He pushed the doors open and walked inside the dark club, the music thrumming around him. There, in the distant corner, leaning against a pillar near the bar, stood Sam. So tall, so fucking handsome, there was no way Dean could resist his pull.

He crossed over to stand near Sam, searching his face. "You made it."

Sam looked away from watching the drinks being poured to look over at Dean and gave a slow nod, "Yeah," he frowned, "I told you I would." He licked his lips and looked back at the bartender mixing virgin drinks, "wonder if I could drink one?" he muttered, almost to himself.

"If you got your sense of adventure back, maybe," Dean said almost caustically. Heading for the bar, he ordered himself a coke and a virgin bloody mary for Sam, making sure he emphasized the word 'virgin'. After sharing a joke with the bartender, he returned and gave the red drink to Sam, meeting his gaze.


Sam took the glass and quirked a brow, "You realize if I drink this and I shouldn't, I'll be curled in a ball in the middle of the floor, right?" he asked, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Then hold it like a prop and pretend. You're good at that, pretending." He was still angry from the morning. No Goddamit, he was angry for everything that happened this week.

Sam hung his head, shaking it, before he looked back up at Dean, "And just what am I pretending? To love you? To worry about you? That I was horrible? That I put my family in danger? That I put you in danger? Or maybe that I could have killed you had Emmett not shown up?" he tilted his head to the side, "Did you forget about all the damn bruises?"

"No I didn't forget. They're my bruises and it's not the fucking end of the world, like you're making it." He took a deep breath, nostrils flaring. "You're pretending to be my boyfriend, but you're acting like ... like a buddy, like Billy or Frank, or any of them. I don't need another buddy, Sam. And you can stop pretending like this is enough, for either of us."

Sam narrowed his eyes at Dean. The glass he held in his hand exploding into a million pieces, drink spilling all over the floor, though it looked as though the glass had just suddenly exploded. "I'm doing the best I can." Sam told him through gritted teeth.

For an instant, Dean worried about Sam's hand... but how many times had he been told nothing could cut Sam? That he was the glass in Sam's hands?. "No you're not."

That was when Bill and some of their... or technically Dean's... friends got off the dancefloor and joined them, making much of the mess on the ground. Some of them made much of a Cullen mixing with them, asking Sam if he'd ever been here before. Automatically, Dean slid into his 'fun' persona, and cracked joke after joke, making everyone laugh even as he was breaking on the inside.

Sam stood dutifully by, even if he was quiet, not laughing with the others as his golden hazel eyes followed Dean's every movement, every facial expression. As he drank in the sound of his laughter, memorized the smiles on his face. He was sure they wouldn't be there later for him. Shifting his weight, Sam sighed as he slipped silently back into one of the darkened corners of the bar, taking a seat there. Alone, in the dark, it was something he was use to, something he could identify with, it was where he belonged.

As it got later, the conversation somehow turned to sex, as it always did. Kissing techniques were tossed around with the girls airing their complaints and the guys bragging. As Dean gave his answer about the best way to persuade a girl to kiss you on a first date, his gaze traveled to the dance floor. Even as his friends hung onto his every word, his mind was elsewhere, watching couples hold hands, touch... kiss.

Mid sentence, he pushed away from the railing dividing the bar crowd from the dance floor, announced he was leaving and headed for the bar, and catching Sam's gaze nodded toward the door.

Sam pulled to his feet, following Dean out, walking up to Dean at the Impala, "We going home?" he asked him, as he walked around to the passenger door, "I didn't bring my car. Walked."

"Nope." Dean waited for Sam to get in, then gunned it, skidding out of the lot and heading out onto the road. They hadn't been driving for more than a minute when he took an off road route. Damn, he really could use a drink tonight. He was pretty sure he had some beers left at home, but would need to pick up more some time when he was outta town and could use his fake ID.

Sam frowned as he looked out the window, "Where are we going, Dean?"

"You don't recognize this route? You don't remember a tree falling right.... here?" He gave Sam a pointed look, driving past the point and heading deeper into the forested area leading to the cliffs.

Sam pressed his lips together, "Why?" he asked him, shifting nervously in his seat.

"Should be obvious."

Sam sighed, "So, you're determined to torture me?"

"Is it torture? Kissing me is torture now," hurt and anger gave Dean's words an edge as he found a place to park a little ways away from the other cars with fogged windows. Turning the key and pulling the brake up, he turned bodily toward Sam, eyes blazing.