spn - Bloodletting
Title: Bloodletting
Word Count: 4190
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG-13
Summery: Instead of letting him go, Eli took revenge himself and turned Sam in Bloodlust.
Authore's Note: Written for the 'What if...' challegne at spnland. I really hope that I got Gordon and Lenore's voices down, so comments would be nice.
Sam couldn‘t see very well, it was all blurry and teeth and angry eyes. Slowly, his brain began processing what his eyes were seeing, and why he was were he was in the first place. They’d taken him, the vampires, they’d taken him to their nest. He blinked and slowly the face of a man began to focus. He was so close Sam could taste the smell of stale blood on his breath. It made him want to gag, but he was too afraid to move. Dean wouldn’t know he was missing for a few hours at least. He was still off drinking and bonding with Gordon. He wouldn’t be missed and by the time Dean did get around to looking for him…Sam didn’t really want to think about it.
The fang in front of him hissed, his teeth descending and sparkling dangerously in the dim light of the lamp sitting on a side table in the corner of the room. Sam couldn’t help but stare at them, couldn’t help but stare at them as they moved closer. The fogginess in his brain kept him from comprehending what was happening.
The sensation of the skin on his neck ripping open gave him sudden clarity of the situation and what was happening. Sam shouted in pain, jerking his head to the side in attempt to get away from the vampire feeding on him. He could feel the blood being sucked from his body
“Eli, no!”
The weight of Eli’s body disappeared, the pressure of his teeth in Sam’s neck vanished as they were ripped out by whatever force it was that screamed for him to stop. Sam tried to move his head up to see who it was, but only succeeded in falling forward and aggravating the teeth marks in his neck so they burned. The blood running down his neck was soaking into his shirt.
Eli hissed at him, restrained in the chair and took a step closer. The woman who yelled earlier, whirled around to face him and shoved him hard in the chest, propelling him backwards into the wall on the other side of the room. Eli roared, Sam’s blood and saliva flinging through the air and running down his chin. The woman didn’t flinch or seem to care in any way.
“You want me to feel compassion for this killer? Lenore, they killed Conrad-!”
“And this is not the answer!” the woman, Lenore, shouted back, turning around and ending the conversation. She leaned down to Sam’s eyelevel and her hands didn’t feel so cold as they slid over his face, tilting it to the side so she had a better angle to examine the damage done. Her fingertips move over one of his eyelids. “He wont make it.”
“Good,” growled Eli. Lenore stared at him over her shoulder, her eyes cold.
“This is not what were are, Eli,” she said softly, turning her head back around to Sam. She moved her hands off his face and stood up, moving around the chair Sam was strapped into and to the side table in the corner, opening the drawer and pulling a knife out.
“No,” growled Eli. Lenore ignored him, moving back to kneel in front of Sam. Sam blinked heavy, half dead eyes at her, watching as she took the knife in her hand and dug it into her palm, blood blossoming around the tip of the blade. She tossed the knife to the side and took Sam’s face in her other hand. Eli growled again. “Don’t do this.”
“If he dies there’s no hope for any of us. Then we are monsters.”
“And turning him doesn’t make us monsters? Lenore, please,” Lenore wasn’t listening, she was staring at Sam, asking him with her eyes if it was what he wanted. If he wanted to die or have a chance to continue on. He must have answered something that she understood, because the next moment her hand was cupped under his lips, pooling blood in the palm of her hand and pressing the cool liquid into his mouth. Sam choked on the bit of blood that slid down his throat, spraying blood into Lenore’s face. She didn’t seem to notice or mind, just kept her concentration on his face and her hand pressed against his mouth.
“Drink,” she breathed, running her fingers through Sam’s hair. “It will all be over soon.”
“Yeah, because he’s going to kill us.”
“He wont kill us, Eli.”
“Then the hunters who are with him will. This wont turn out rainbows for us, Lenore.”
“Move him to Yestin’s room, Eli. He’ll rest there.” Eli scoffed, watching Lenore as she untied Sam’s bindings.
“We’re taking him into our nest now too?”
“He needs us.”
Eli pushed himself away from the wall and crossed the room, ignoring Lenore and pulling Sam up by his upper arm unceremoniously. Sam swayed on his feet and collapsed into Eli.
“This is you’re doing, Eli,” said Lenore. “Remember that.”
“You’re his sire. He’s your responsibility.”
“You’re all my responsibility,” said Lenore softly, watching Eli drag Sam away. “He’s no different.”
.
“Where the hell is Sam?”
“Maybe he out for a walk,” suggested Gordon. “He seems like the type. The go for a walk type.”
“Yeah, he is,” muttered Dean, still not completely convinced. The keys to the Impala were on that stupid cactus thing on the kitchenette counter and his jacket was on one arm of the couch. Something wasn’t right to him, something seemed wrong.
Dean pulled out his phone, dialing Sam’s number and listening to it go straight to voice mail. “I’m gonna go look for him.”
“Oh, c’mon, Dean,” laughed Gordon, dropping onto the couch and kicking his feet up. “He’s probably fine.”
“There’s a nest of vampires out there, probably lookin’ to off one of us tonight.”
“Sam can handle himself, Dean,” said Gordon seriously. “You can’t always come to his rescue.”
Dean sighed, looking at Sam’s coat on the couch and then to the keys on the counter before looking Gordon in the eye. “I’ll give him an hour.”
.
Sam was sweating, freezing on the bed Eli had dumped him on earlier. It had felt like hours ago and it had felt like he had died, but here he was, still alive.
“As alive as one can be,” said a soft voice from the door. Sam turned his head, seeing clearly for the first time the woman who had kept Eli from sucking him dry. She smiled at him, something sad and pained and broken. “In our situation, that is.”
Lenore moved out of the doorway and across the room, sitting next to Sam on the bed. He stared at her, and slowly it dawned on him exactly what she’d done to him. He would have reeled away from her if he could have, but he couldn’t move.
“I had Yestin add chains to the wall months ago,” said Lenore as Sam‘s eyes flickered to the shackles on his wrists and ankles. “He was out newest member, his bloodlust wasn’t as controlled as some of the others.”
“What did you do to me?” whispered Sam, his voice was hoarse in his ears.
“It wasn’t my intention when we brought you here,” said Lenore. “Eli wanted revenge for those we’ve lost. We wanted to be left alone, and that’s why I brought you here. To explain.”
“Explain what, how innocent you are? Yeah, I don’t think so.”
“With the exception of Eli, none of mine have indulged in human blood, and we haven’t for a very long time.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“You would, given your circumstance,” said Lenore softly, reaching out to run her fingers over the teeth marks on his neck. He flinched away.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but shouldn’t you be starving to death.”
“We live off cattle blood. It’s not ideal, in fact it’s disgusting, but we manage to get by.”
“You’re responsible for the cattle mutilations?” Lenore gave him a dry look. “So your vegetarians?”
“We were going to leave this town, tonight.”
“Then why bring me here?” asked Sam. “Revenge?”
“You hunters, you’re all the same. To your there is no shades of grey, to us there is nothing but. We brought you here to ask you to leave us alone. But since Eli has compromised things, we have to bring you along.”
“What? Why?”
“You don’t really think I’m going to let you out into the world? You have no self control, no off button. There’s no way in hell I’m letting you out of my sight for the next century, let alone by dawn.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” hissed Sam. “I didn’t ask for this-”
“What makes you think anyone did?” interrupted Lenore, standing up suddenly, staring coolly down at Sam. “You’ll go with us because I wont be responsible for any deaths you may cause. Including your own.”
She turned away from him, walked out of the room and stopped with her hand on the door. She didn’t turn around, but rose her voice so Sam could hear.
“The bloodlust will start soon. That’s what the chains are for. If you like, I’ll sit with you through it until your able to eat.”
“Eat what exactly?” asked Sam, his tone still laced with betrayal for his life and sarcasm for the situation.
“You’ll eat what I give you,” said Lenore, leaving the room completely and shutting the door loudly behind her. Sam frowned at the spot she was standing in, think to himself that there was no way he was staying with her, that he didn’t need her help, that Dean would come for him and save him.
As he settled into the bed a comfortably as he could, the itching started.
.
“Damn it, Sam,” growled Dean, closing his phone for the fifth time and tossing it onto the table in front of him. Gordon was staring at him from the couch, had been for the last twenty minutes, silent.
“You know what this means, Dean,” said Gordon, in that all knowing, ominous way that made the hairs on the back of dean’s neck stand on end. “Those fangs got him.”
“Do you have any idea where their nest is?”
“I have some idea,” said Gordon, moving his feet off the coffee table and standing up. “These monsters are all the same, took Sam for revenge, as if they cared, as if they had the capacity.”
Dean stood up, reaching over the counter to grab his keys and heading for the door without missing a beat. “I’m gonna rip their fucking lungs out.”
Gordon followed, his hands stuffed in his coat pockets and a bounce in his step.
.
It wasn’t just itching. It was burning. It wasn’t his skin, it was his veins. They were fire hot and crawling, like his bloodstream was dehydrated. Sam could feel it everywhere. He felt like he was going to turn inside out. He was starting to get anxious and twitchy and the rubbing he was doing against his shackles weren’t helping to get rid of the itch. It sort of felt like when the circulation get cut off in a hand or foot, except it was his whole body and there was no way to get the blood flowing again.
“Are you asking for help, or are you enjoying this? I can’t quite tell.”
Sam grunted, his head jerking to the side to see a blonde woman, older than Lenore, but with an elegance to her that Lenore didn’t possess. Something animalistic and scary flickered across her face and she turned slightly to shout down the hall. “Lenore, dear, your murderer is starting to itch.”
Lenore was by her side before she finished speaking, staring around her at Sam. She placed her hand on the other woman’s shoulder.
“Sheryl, go help Eli with the truck,” Sheryl sent Sam one last smirk and turned out of the room, leaving Lenore and Sam alone.
Sam caught the scent of something sweet and swept his eyes down the front of Lenore’s body, wondering if it was her he could smell or something else. Lenore walked into the room, letting the door close halfway behind her.
“I’m not going to let you starve,” she said, holding up a bag of blood for him to see. Sam felt his mouth water, and mentally gagged at the thought of drinking blood.
“What is it?”
“Pig’s blood,” said Lenore. “It’ll stop the itch.”
“Does it always feel like this?” asked Sam, his eyes never leaving Lenore’s hand as she sat down next to him on the bed. “I can’t even describe it, it’s horrible.”
“You’ll feel better soon,” said Lenore softly, pulling off the plastic tab keeping the blood from spilling out of the bag, and Sam felt his stomach churn at the smell. What he had thought smelled sweet was now too sweet. Lenore beamed at his reaction, holding the bag to his mouth and draining a small amount down his throat. Sam choked at the taste, but the feeling of blood rushing through his veins outweighed the taste. He took another mouthful and gagged as it went down, glaring at Lenore as she smiled at him.
“Why don’t you just rob a blood blank,” muttered Sam, his tongue think around the blood coating his mouth. Lenore shrugged.
“Think about it like an addiction,” she said, pulling the bag away from Sam’s mouth to give him a rest. “The longer you go on human blood, the harder it is to give it up. Living off of animal blood is a last resort. We don’t kill people, no suspicious deaths, and no one like you coming after us. We blend in.”
Sam went silent, trying to keep his food (god, what a terrible thought, food) down and process this information. A year ago, if someone had told him there were creatures like Lenore in the world he would have been curious about the idea. Dad would have laughed at the concept, and Dean…Dean wouldn’t be able to understand. Dean would question everything he believed in, Dean wouldn’t be able to handle something like Lenore. Sam blinked out of his thoughts and realized Lenore was staring at his
“Sam.” Lenore looked up at him through her hair and raised an eyebrow. “My name’s Sam.”
“Lenore.” Sam nodded, sighing and staring up at the ceiling.
“I would have tried to convince my brother to leave, you know,” said Sam softly. “If you had told me what you were doing and hadn’t pretty much murdered me.”
“I know.”
“How?” asked Sam, turning his face from the ceiling and focusing on Lenore. “You seem to know a lot about me. How?”
“We’re connected now,” she said, her fingertips absently tracing over his writs. “I’m your sire. In fact, I’m the sire of everyone in my nest.”
“You turned the all into vampires?” asked Sam.
“Not all of them were in the condition you were, in fact some of them were worse off. Eli was nearly crushed to death by a tractor during a tornado many years ago. You understand that this is not a life I wish unto anyone. It’s a last resort.”
“Why turn me?”
“I assumed you weren’t finished.” Sam’s forehead creased, trying to wrap around what she was trying to say.
“Finished with what?”
“In your line of work, you keep people from dying,” said Lenore, pausing the movement of her fingers and sliding her eyes up to Sam’s face. “I try to do the same.”
“You want to kill evil?”
“There’s nothing wrong with putting people to rest, out of their misery or the misery of others.”
Sam stared at her, the confusion gone from his eyes and replaced with admiration. “You’re an extraordinary person, Lenore.”
“I didn’t use to be.”
“What changed?” She didn’t have a chance to answer, outside there was a scream and a thud and the smell of stale blood filled the air. Stale blood and something else, something sweet and life changing. Lenore stood up quickly, staring at the partially open door, her eyes narrowed.
“No.”
Sam jerked suddenly against his restraints, and cried out in pleasurepainmercyaggravation. There was blood pounding in his ears, but it wasn’t his blood, it was someone else’s, two someone’s. One calm and one completely enraged. They were familiar. The louder the rushing of blood became the stronger the sent of it was. Something inside him knew exactly who they smelled like, and that same something knew exactly what they were going to do to Lenore when they found her.
What Gordon was going to do to them.
Sam could feel the shackles cemented into the walls begin to give. All he had to do was break free and then-
-Dean and Gordon slammed the door open-
The sudden onslaught of blood filled Sam’s nostrils, blinded him. He looked at Lenore who didn’t seem effected by any of it, not the cut across Dean’s arm or the jar of dead man’s blood Gordon was holding. She glanced at Gordon briefly before turning back to Sam, holding her hand out above his chest, silently asking him to remain as calm as possible. Dean was staring at Sam, shackled to a bed with a vampire standing over him. Sam was staring at Dean, more specifically the gash down Dean’s arm, his eyes following the trail of blood as it wound around his forearms and into the groves of his fingers, pooling and dripping down onto the floor. The sound was deafening in his ears, each drop of blood hitting the ground echoed in his ears, getting louder and louder until it became too much to bare, until his fangs descended and he was hissing at his brother because his brother was lunch.
“My god, the bastards turned him,” whispered Gordon, starting at Sam’s teeth with wide, unfeeling eyes. Dean was staring at Lenore, unable to look at his brother hissing and spitting at him like an animal.
“What the hell did you do to him,” growled Dean, raising his arm and his machete, taking a dangerously close step forward. Lenore didn’t answer. She kept perfectly still, staring at Dean with perfect calm that wouldn’t do anything but make him angry.
“We have to kill them both,” said Gordon, as if it was the only logical answer, raising his machete and moving forward. Sam felt a rush of panic and the next second he was on top of Gordon, pressing him into the floor, teeth out and hissing like a cat. Dean was staring at him, unable to move, while Lenore reached out, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him off Gordon with a jerk. She back Sam up against the wall next to the bed he’d been in a moment ago, pressing one of her hands into his chest, blocking him from Dean and Gordon and them from him.
“You have to do it, Dean,” shouted Gordon from the ground, getting up slowly, his eyes on Dean. Dean’s eyes widened and he glanced over his shoulder slightly to look at the older man.
“What did you just say?”
“He’s not your brother anymore, Dean,” said Gordon. “He’s not human.”
Dean tried not to listen to Gordon, tried not to think about what Dad had said to him about Sam before he died. He looked from Sam to Lenore, who was still holding him against the wall, to keep from attacking. He tightened his grip on his machete, if he attacked Sam he probably wouldn’t be able to beat him. Sam was stronger, and hungry.
“You’re telling me to kill my brother,” said Dean softly. “Gordon, look, I get that you wanted revenge on the fang that killed you sister, but this is isn’t-”
“Killed my sister,” interrupted Gordon, a soft chuckled escaping his lips. “That fucking fang didn’t kill her, it turned her. So I tracked her down and I killed her myself.”
“What?” Dean spun around, his head tilted to the side in disbelief because it sounded like Gordon just admitted to killing his sister.
“It wasn’t my sister anymore, Dean, that’s what I’m trying to tell you,” said Gordon, pointing his machete at Sam. Lenore took a step to the right, shielding Sam and glaring at Gordon. “That fang is not your brother.”
“You son of a bitch,” said Dean breathlessly. “Sam is still my brother.”
“He will drink you dry before he realizes who you are,” said Gordon, holding his arms open because it really all was right there in front of Dean. All the facts. If he didn’t kill Sam, Sam would kill him first. Simple as that. He moved his machete in Lenore’s direction. “And that bitch isn’t going to stop him.”
“You’re the only monster in this room,” said Lenore. Sam started struggling again, and Lenore shoved him harder into the wall, keeping her eyes on Gordon. “Let us go. We haven’t done anything.”
“You killed my brother!” shouted Dean, whirling around.
“And you killed two of mine!” Lenore shouted back. “They had names and felt pain, just like I do and just like Sam does.”
“Please, Dean, just let us go,” grunted Sam, closing his eyes and trying to reel in the monster. Dean could feel Sam staring at him and tried his hardest not to look back. His little brother needed him, and that won over.
“Okay, Sammy,” said Dean softly, lowering his arm.
“What are you doing, Dean?” asked Gordon, snorting softly and disbelievingly at Dean. “You can’t do it? Fine. I will.”
Gordon charged at the pair of vampires, pushing past Dean shouting at him to stop. Gordon lifted his knife to Lenore, dripping with dead man’s blood-
-and stopped.
He blinked, first at Lenore and then turned his head, turning around and stumbling into the floor, staring up at Dean, his machete plunged deep into Gordon’s back. Sam jerked weakly against Lenore, his breathing still heavy, trying not to let his demon get the better of him.
“Never. Threaten. My brother,” said Dean calmly, wrenching his machete out of Gordon’s back. He stared down at the dead man at his feet and quietly told Sam and Lenore to leave.
“Dean-”
“I said go,” he said again, just as quietly, finally looking up at his brother. Sam shook his head.
“Come with us.” Dean snorted.
“Yeah right, no offense, Sam, but I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“Lenore doesn’t attack humans,” said Sam encouragingly.
“I said no, Sam.”
“And I’m saying yes!” shouted Sam, earning a warning look from Lenore, because he shouldn’t be getting worked up with all this blood around. Dean stares at him too, a little sad and Sam’s eyes are reflecting that. “Help me, Dean.”
Dean doesn’t say anything, but he stares at the ground, at Gordon dead on the floor between them and nods.
“I’ll talk to the others,” said Lenore softly, touching Sam’s arm to get his attention. “Leave the room.”
“Why?”
“Do as I say, Sam.” and she leaves before he can ask her again. He stays for a minute, staring after her and then realizes that he can smell the blood in the room. How different Gordon’s smells compared to Dean’s. He blinked rapidly and backed against the wall, trying to get away from the smell of blood. Dean’s staring at him, slowly realizing what’s going on and makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat.
“I’m fine,” mumbles Sam thickly, trying not to breathe, covering his mouth and nose with his sleeve. Dean shakes his head and turns to go.
“This is a mistake, Sam.”
“Wait-”
“I’ll be at Bobby‘s,” said Dean, holding his arms out and looking at Sam, asking for any better suggestion. “I can’t stay with you, and you know that. I get that these…that Lenore might be different from the others, but how long do you think it took her to get like that? I don’t have a lifetime, Sam. I barely have the one I got.”
Sam couldn’t think of anything to say, all he could do was stare across the room, blinking back tears and the smell of blood, while Dean did the same, staring back. Without saying anything Dean turned and left, pushing past Lenore.
“You’re leaving?”
“Yeah, ah…sorry.”
“I understand,” said Lenore with a nod.
“Yeah, I bet you do.”
“You could have killed him,” said Lenore to Dean’s back as he walked out of the house. “You didn’t. That means something.”
Dean didn’t answer, or try and think on it, just got into his car and left and didn’t look back because he didn’t do chick-flick moments and this was so one of those moments. Lenore watched him go, feeling Sam walk up behind her to watch the Impala and Dean drive off and his hand brush against hers for a little comfort.
“Everything will be okay, Sam.”
“How can you know that?” asked Sam softly, still staring at the place the Impala disappeared. Lenore smiled at him, reaching up to touch his shoulder.
“I have faith.”
Word Count: 4190
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG-13
Summery: Instead of letting him go, Eli took revenge himself and turned Sam in Bloodlust.
Authore's Note: Written for the 'What if...' challegne at spnland. I really hope that I got Gordon and Lenore's voices down, so comments would be nice.
Sam couldn‘t see very well, it was all blurry and teeth and angry eyes. Slowly, his brain began processing what his eyes were seeing, and why he was were he was in the first place. They’d taken him, the vampires, they’d taken him to their nest. He blinked and slowly the face of a man began to focus. He was so close Sam could taste the smell of stale blood on his breath. It made him want to gag, but he was too afraid to move. Dean wouldn’t know he was missing for a few hours at least. He was still off drinking and bonding with Gordon. He wouldn’t be missed and by the time Dean did get around to looking for him…Sam didn’t really want to think about it.
The fang in front of him hissed, his teeth descending and sparkling dangerously in the dim light of the lamp sitting on a side table in the corner of the room. Sam couldn’t help but stare at them, couldn’t help but stare at them as they moved closer. The fogginess in his brain kept him from comprehending what was happening.
The sensation of the skin on his neck ripping open gave him sudden clarity of the situation and what was happening. Sam shouted in pain, jerking his head to the side in attempt to get away from the vampire feeding on him. He could feel the blood being sucked from his body
“Eli, no!”
The weight of Eli’s body disappeared, the pressure of his teeth in Sam’s neck vanished as they were ripped out by whatever force it was that screamed for him to stop. Sam tried to move his head up to see who it was, but only succeeded in falling forward and aggravating the teeth marks in his neck so they burned. The blood running down his neck was soaking into his shirt.
Eli hissed at him, restrained in the chair and took a step closer. The woman who yelled earlier, whirled around to face him and shoved him hard in the chest, propelling him backwards into the wall on the other side of the room. Eli roared, Sam’s blood and saliva flinging through the air and running down his chin. The woman didn’t flinch or seem to care in any way.
“You want me to feel compassion for this killer? Lenore, they killed Conrad-!”
“And this is not the answer!” the woman, Lenore, shouted back, turning around and ending the conversation. She leaned down to Sam’s eyelevel and her hands didn’t feel so cold as they slid over his face, tilting it to the side so she had a better angle to examine the damage done. Her fingertips move over one of his eyelids. “He wont make it.”
“Good,” growled Eli. Lenore stared at him over her shoulder, her eyes cold.
“This is not what were are, Eli,” she said softly, turning her head back around to Sam. She moved her hands off his face and stood up, moving around the chair Sam was strapped into and to the side table in the corner, opening the drawer and pulling a knife out.
“No,” growled Eli. Lenore ignored him, moving back to kneel in front of Sam. Sam blinked heavy, half dead eyes at her, watching as she took the knife in her hand and dug it into her palm, blood blossoming around the tip of the blade. She tossed the knife to the side and took Sam’s face in her other hand. Eli growled again. “Don’t do this.”
“If he dies there’s no hope for any of us. Then we are monsters.”
“And turning him doesn’t make us monsters? Lenore, please,” Lenore wasn’t listening, she was staring at Sam, asking him with her eyes if it was what he wanted. If he wanted to die or have a chance to continue on. He must have answered something that she understood, because the next moment her hand was cupped under his lips, pooling blood in the palm of her hand and pressing the cool liquid into his mouth. Sam choked on the bit of blood that slid down his throat, spraying blood into Lenore’s face. She didn’t seem to notice or mind, just kept her concentration on his face and her hand pressed against his mouth.
“Drink,” she breathed, running her fingers through Sam’s hair. “It will all be over soon.”
“Yeah, because he’s going to kill us.”
“He wont kill us, Eli.”
“Then the hunters who are with him will. This wont turn out rainbows for us, Lenore.”
“Move him to Yestin’s room, Eli. He’ll rest there.” Eli scoffed, watching Lenore as she untied Sam’s bindings.
“We’re taking him into our nest now too?”
“He needs us.”
Eli pushed himself away from the wall and crossed the room, ignoring Lenore and pulling Sam up by his upper arm unceremoniously. Sam swayed on his feet and collapsed into Eli.
“This is you’re doing, Eli,” said Lenore. “Remember that.”
“You’re his sire. He’s your responsibility.”
“You’re all my responsibility,” said Lenore softly, watching Eli drag Sam away. “He’s no different.”
.
“Where the hell is Sam?”
“Maybe he out for a walk,” suggested Gordon. “He seems like the type. The go for a walk type.”
“Yeah, he is,” muttered Dean, still not completely convinced. The keys to the Impala were on that stupid cactus thing on the kitchenette counter and his jacket was on one arm of the couch. Something wasn’t right to him, something seemed wrong.
Dean pulled out his phone, dialing Sam’s number and listening to it go straight to voice mail. “I’m gonna go look for him.”
“Oh, c’mon, Dean,” laughed Gordon, dropping onto the couch and kicking his feet up. “He’s probably fine.”
“There’s a nest of vampires out there, probably lookin’ to off one of us tonight.”
“Sam can handle himself, Dean,” said Gordon seriously. “You can’t always come to his rescue.”
Dean sighed, looking at Sam’s coat on the couch and then to the keys on the counter before looking Gordon in the eye. “I’ll give him an hour.”
.
Sam was sweating, freezing on the bed Eli had dumped him on earlier. It had felt like hours ago and it had felt like he had died, but here he was, still alive.
“As alive as one can be,” said a soft voice from the door. Sam turned his head, seeing clearly for the first time the woman who had kept Eli from sucking him dry. She smiled at him, something sad and pained and broken. “In our situation, that is.”
Lenore moved out of the doorway and across the room, sitting next to Sam on the bed. He stared at her, and slowly it dawned on him exactly what she’d done to him. He would have reeled away from her if he could have, but he couldn’t move.
“I had Yestin add chains to the wall months ago,” said Lenore as Sam‘s eyes flickered to the shackles on his wrists and ankles. “He was out newest member, his bloodlust wasn’t as controlled as some of the others.”
“What did you do to me?” whispered Sam, his voice was hoarse in his ears.
“It wasn’t my intention when we brought you here,” said Lenore. “Eli wanted revenge for those we’ve lost. We wanted to be left alone, and that’s why I brought you here. To explain.”
“Explain what, how innocent you are? Yeah, I don’t think so.”
“With the exception of Eli, none of mine have indulged in human blood, and we haven’t for a very long time.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“You would, given your circumstance,” said Lenore softly, reaching out to run her fingers over the teeth marks on his neck. He flinched away.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but shouldn’t you be starving to death.”
“We live off cattle blood. It’s not ideal, in fact it’s disgusting, but we manage to get by.”
“You’re responsible for the cattle mutilations?” Lenore gave him a dry look. “So your vegetarians?”
“We were going to leave this town, tonight.”
“Then why bring me here?” asked Sam. “Revenge?”
“You hunters, you’re all the same. To your there is no shades of grey, to us there is nothing but. We brought you here to ask you to leave us alone. But since Eli has compromised things, we have to bring you along.”
“What? Why?”
“You don’t really think I’m going to let you out into the world? You have no self control, no off button. There’s no way in hell I’m letting you out of my sight for the next century, let alone by dawn.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” hissed Sam. “I didn’t ask for this-”
“What makes you think anyone did?” interrupted Lenore, standing up suddenly, staring coolly down at Sam. “You’ll go with us because I wont be responsible for any deaths you may cause. Including your own.”
She turned away from him, walked out of the room and stopped with her hand on the door. She didn’t turn around, but rose her voice so Sam could hear.
“The bloodlust will start soon. That’s what the chains are for. If you like, I’ll sit with you through it until your able to eat.”
“Eat what exactly?” asked Sam, his tone still laced with betrayal for his life and sarcasm for the situation.
“You’ll eat what I give you,” said Lenore, leaving the room completely and shutting the door loudly behind her. Sam frowned at the spot she was standing in, think to himself that there was no way he was staying with her, that he didn’t need her help, that Dean would come for him and save him.
As he settled into the bed a comfortably as he could, the itching started.
.
“Damn it, Sam,” growled Dean, closing his phone for the fifth time and tossing it onto the table in front of him. Gordon was staring at him from the couch, had been for the last twenty minutes, silent.
“You know what this means, Dean,” said Gordon, in that all knowing, ominous way that made the hairs on the back of dean’s neck stand on end. “Those fangs got him.”
“Do you have any idea where their nest is?”
“I have some idea,” said Gordon, moving his feet off the coffee table and standing up. “These monsters are all the same, took Sam for revenge, as if they cared, as if they had the capacity.”
Dean stood up, reaching over the counter to grab his keys and heading for the door without missing a beat. “I’m gonna rip their fucking lungs out.”
Gordon followed, his hands stuffed in his coat pockets and a bounce in his step.
.
It wasn’t just itching. It was burning. It wasn’t his skin, it was his veins. They were fire hot and crawling, like his bloodstream was dehydrated. Sam could feel it everywhere. He felt like he was going to turn inside out. He was starting to get anxious and twitchy and the rubbing he was doing against his shackles weren’t helping to get rid of the itch. It sort of felt like when the circulation get cut off in a hand or foot, except it was his whole body and there was no way to get the blood flowing again.
“Are you asking for help, or are you enjoying this? I can’t quite tell.”
Sam grunted, his head jerking to the side to see a blonde woman, older than Lenore, but with an elegance to her that Lenore didn’t possess. Something animalistic and scary flickered across her face and she turned slightly to shout down the hall. “Lenore, dear, your murderer is starting to itch.”
Lenore was by her side before she finished speaking, staring around her at Sam. She placed her hand on the other woman’s shoulder.
“Sheryl, go help Eli with the truck,” Sheryl sent Sam one last smirk and turned out of the room, leaving Lenore and Sam alone.
Sam caught the scent of something sweet and swept his eyes down the front of Lenore’s body, wondering if it was her he could smell or something else. Lenore walked into the room, letting the door close halfway behind her.
“I’m not going to let you starve,” she said, holding up a bag of blood for him to see. Sam felt his mouth water, and mentally gagged at the thought of drinking blood.
“What is it?”
“Pig’s blood,” said Lenore. “It’ll stop the itch.”
“Does it always feel like this?” asked Sam, his eyes never leaving Lenore’s hand as she sat down next to him on the bed. “I can’t even describe it, it’s horrible.”
“You’ll feel better soon,” said Lenore softly, pulling off the plastic tab keeping the blood from spilling out of the bag, and Sam felt his stomach churn at the smell. What he had thought smelled sweet was now too sweet. Lenore beamed at his reaction, holding the bag to his mouth and draining a small amount down his throat. Sam choked at the taste, but the feeling of blood rushing through his veins outweighed the taste. He took another mouthful and gagged as it went down, glaring at Lenore as she smiled at him.
“Why don’t you just rob a blood blank,” muttered Sam, his tongue think around the blood coating his mouth. Lenore shrugged.
“Think about it like an addiction,” she said, pulling the bag away from Sam’s mouth to give him a rest. “The longer you go on human blood, the harder it is to give it up. Living off of animal blood is a last resort. We don’t kill people, no suspicious deaths, and no one like you coming after us. We blend in.”
Sam went silent, trying to keep his food (god, what a terrible thought, food) down and process this information. A year ago, if someone had told him there were creatures like Lenore in the world he would have been curious about the idea. Dad would have laughed at the concept, and Dean…Dean wouldn’t be able to understand. Dean would question everything he believed in, Dean wouldn’t be able to handle something like Lenore. Sam blinked out of his thoughts and realized Lenore was staring at his
“Sam.” Lenore looked up at him through her hair and raised an eyebrow. “My name’s Sam.”
“Lenore.” Sam nodded, sighing and staring up at the ceiling.
“I would have tried to convince my brother to leave, you know,” said Sam softly. “If you had told me what you were doing and hadn’t pretty much murdered me.”
“I know.”
“How?” asked Sam, turning his face from the ceiling and focusing on Lenore. “You seem to know a lot about me. How?”
“We’re connected now,” she said, her fingertips absently tracing over his writs. “I’m your sire. In fact, I’m the sire of everyone in my nest.”
“You turned the all into vampires?” asked Sam.
“Not all of them were in the condition you were, in fact some of them were worse off. Eli was nearly crushed to death by a tractor during a tornado many years ago. You understand that this is not a life I wish unto anyone. It’s a last resort.”
“Why turn me?”
“I assumed you weren’t finished.” Sam’s forehead creased, trying to wrap around what she was trying to say.
“Finished with what?”
“In your line of work, you keep people from dying,” said Lenore, pausing the movement of her fingers and sliding her eyes up to Sam’s face. “I try to do the same.”
“You want to kill evil?”
“There’s nothing wrong with putting people to rest, out of their misery or the misery of others.”
Sam stared at her, the confusion gone from his eyes and replaced with admiration. “You’re an extraordinary person, Lenore.”
“I didn’t use to be.”
“What changed?” She didn’t have a chance to answer, outside there was a scream and a thud and the smell of stale blood filled the air. Stale blood and something else, something sweet and life changing. Lenore stood up quickly, staring at the partially open door, her eyes narrowed.
“No.”
Sam jerked suddenly against his restraints, and cried out in pleasurepainmercyaggravation. There was blood pounding in his ears, but it wasn’t his blood, it was someone else’s, two someone’s. One calm and one completely enraged. They were familiar. The louder the rushing of blood became the stronger the sent of it was. Something inside him knew exactly who they smelled like, and that same something knew exactly what they were going to do to Lenore when they found her.
What Gordon was going to do to them.
Sam could feel the shackles cemented into the walls begin to give. All he had to do was break free and then-
-Dean and Gordon slammed the door open-
The sudden onslaught of blood filled Sam’s nostrils, blinded him. He looked at Lenore who didn’t seem effected by any of it, not the cut across Dean’s arm or the jar of dead man’s blood Gordon was holding. She glanced at Gordon briefly before turning back to Sam, holding her hand out above his chest, silently asking him to remain as calm as possible. Dean was staring at Sam, shackled to a bed with a vampire standing over him. Sam was staring at Dean, more specifically the gash down Dean’s arm, his eyes following the trail of blood as it wound around his forearms and into the groves of his fingers, pooling and dripping down onto the floor. The sound was deafening in his ears, each drop of blood hitting the ground echoed in his ears, getting louder and louder until it became too much to bare, until his fangs descended and he was hissing at his brother because his brother was lunch.
“My god, the bastards turned him,” whispered Gordon, starting at Sam’s teeth with wide, unfeeling eyes. Dean was staring at Lenore, unable to look at his brother hissing and spitting at him like an animal.
“What the hell did you do to him,” growled Dean, raising his arm and his machete, taking a dangerously close step forward. Lenore didn’t answer. She kept perfectly still, staring at Dean with perfect calm that wouldn’t do anything but make him angry.
“We have to kill them both,” said Gordon, as if it was the only logical answer, raising his machete and moving forward. Sam felt a rush of panic and the next second he was on top of Gordon, pressing him into the floor, teeth out and hissing like a cat. Dean was staring at him, unable to move, while Lenore reached out, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him off Gordon with a jerk. She back Sam up against the wall next to the bed he’d been in a moment ago, pressing one of her hands into his chest, blocking him from Dean and Gordon and them from him.
“You have to do it, Dean,” shouted Gordon from the ground, getting up slowly, his eyes on Dean. Dean’s eyes widened and he glanced over his shoulder slightly to look at the older man.
“What did you just say?”
“He’s not your brother anymore, Dean,” said Gordon. “He’s not human.”
Dean tried not to listen to Gordon, tried not to think about what Dad had said to him about Sam before he died. He looked from Sam to Lenore, who was still holding him against the wall, to keep from attacking. He tightened his grip on his machete, if he attacked Sam he probably wouldn’t be able to beat him. Sam was stronger, and hungry.
“You’re telling me to kill my brother,” said Dean softly. “Gordon, look, I get that you wanted revenge on the fang that killed you sister, but this is isn’t-”
“Killed my sister,” interrupted Gordon, a soft chuckled escaping his lips. “That fucking fang didn’t kill her, it turned her. So I tracked her down and I killed her myself.”
“What?” Dean spun around, his head tilted to the side in disbelief because it sounded like Gordon just admitted to killing his sister.
“It wasn’t my sister anymore, Dean, that’s what I’m trying to tell you,” said Gordon, pointing his machete at Sam. Lenore took a step to the right, shielding Sam and glaring at Gordon. “That fang is not your brother.”
“You son of a bitch,” said Dean breathlessly. “Sam is still my brother.”
“He will drink you dry before he realizes who you are,” said Gordon, holding his arms open because it really all was right there in front of Dean. All the facts. If he didn’t kill Sam, Sam would kill him first. Simple as that. He moved his machete in Lenore’s direction. “And that bitch isn’t going to stop him.”
“You’re the only monster in this room,” said Lenore. Sam started struggling again, and Lenore shoved him harder into the wall, keeping her eyes on Gordon. “Let us go. We haven’t done anything.”
“You killed my brother!” shouted Dean, whirling around.
“And you killed two of mine!” Lenore shouted back. “They had names and felt pain, just like I do and just like Sam does.”
“Please, Dean, just let us go,” grunted Sam, closing his eyes and trying to reel in the monster. Dean could feel Sam staring at him and tried his hardest not to look back. His little brother needed him, and that won over.
“Okay, Sammy,” said Dean softly, lowering his arm.
“What are you doing, Dean?” asked Gordon, snorting softly and disbelievingly at Dean. “You can’t do it? Fine. I will.”
Gordon charged at the pair of vampires, pushing past Dean shouting at him to stop. Gordon lifted his knife to Lenore, dripping with dead man’s blood-
-and stopped.
He blinked, first at Lenore and then turned his head, turning around and stumbling into the floor, staring up at Dean, his machete plunged deep into Gordon’s back. Sam jerked weakly against Lenore, his breathing still heavy, trying not to let his demon get the better of him.
“Never. Threaten. My brother,” said Dean calmly, wrenching his machete out of Gordon’s back. He stared down at the dead man at his feet and quietly told Sam and Lenore to leave.
“Dean-”
“I said go,” he said again, just as quietly, finally looking up at his brother. Sam shook his head.
“Come with us.” Dean snorted.
“Yeah right, no offense, Sam, but I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“Lenore doesn’t attack humans,” said Sam encouragingly.
“I said no, Sam.”
“And I’m saying yes!” shouted Sam, earning a warning look from Lenore, because he shouldn’t be getting worked up with all this blood around. Dean stares at him too, a little sad and Sam’s eyes are reflecting that. “Help me, Dean.”
Dean doesn’t say anything, but he stares at the ground, at Gordon dead on the floor between them and nods.
“I’ll talk to the others,” said Lenore softly, touching Sam’s arm to get his attention. “Leave the room.”
“Why?”
“Do as I say, Sam.” and she leaves before he can ask her again. He stays for a minute, staring after her and then realizes that he can smell the blood in the room. How different Gordon’s smells compared to Dean’s. He blinked rapidly and backed against the wall, trying to get away from the smell of blood. Dean’s staring at him, slowly realizing what’s going on and makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat.
“I’m fine,” mumbles Sam thickly, trying not to breathe, covering his mouth and nose with his sleeve. Dean shakes his head and turns to go.
“This is a mistake, Sam.”
“Wait-”
“I’ll be at Bobby‘s,” said Dean, holding his arms out and looking at Sam, asking for any better suggestion. “I can’t stay with you, and you know that. I get that these…that Lenore might be different from the others, but how long do you think it took her to get like that? I don’t have a lifetime, Sam. I barely have the one I got.”
Sam couldn’t think of anything to say, all he could do was stare across the room, blinking back tears and the smell of blood, while Dean did the same, staring back. Without saying anything Dean turned and left, pushing past Lenore.
“You’re leaving?”
“Yeah, ah…sorry.”
“I understand,” said Lenore with a nod.
“Yeah, I bet you do.”
“You could have killed him,” said Lenore to Dean’s back as he walked out of the house. “You didn’t. That means something.”
Dean didn’t answer, or try and think on it, just got into his car and left and didn’t look back because he didn’t do chick-flick moments and this was so one of those moments. Lenore watched him go, feeling Sam walk up behind her to watch the Impala and Dean drive off and his hand brush against hers for a little comfort.
“Everything will be okay, Sam.”
“How can you know that?” asked Sam softly, still staring at the place the Impala disappeared. Lenore smiled at him, reaching up to touch his shoulder.
“I have faith.”