And Blood Screams (SPN/BtVS) - Chapter 4
Title: And Blood Screams
Artist: iria4285
Mixer: glasslogic
Fandom: Supernatural/Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Type: het, slash, fusion, threesome
Word Count:
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Spike/Sam/Faith, implied Spike/Sam/Dean/Faith, appearances by SPN hunters
Warnings: Sexual content, strong language, blood, death, torture
Summary: Vampire!AU: Years ago, Sam Winchester lost his brother. Dean left him, left them all because he got back his bothersome soul. He joined up with hunters to fight evil and atone for his sins. However, Sam didn't let go that easily and Spike and Faith are pretty used to giving him what he wants. What he wants is to play a dangerous game with Dean's new friends: kill them off one by one until Dean only has only one thing left.
Sam liked nice places. It was just one way he was different from Dean, who’d be comfortable anywhere with a roof (they both hated camping). True to form, when Sam picked the place to take Bobby, he picked in style - among other things.
It was a large estate. A house sat right in the middle, larger than a normal house, a step away from a mansion. The living room was filled with comfortable couches, expensive paintings, and a hunter hanging from the roof. A rope circled his wrists at the bottom and tied around a support beam at the top. His toes brushed against the floor and he could probably stop himself from swinging if he had the strength.
He didn’t.
So, Sam would push and watch him sway back and forth, amused.
“You fainted again, didn’t you?” he asked.
Bobby coughed. “...Don’t faint,” he muttered.
Sam laughed. “Oh, I know this. Dean used to say it: you don’t faint, you pass out, in a manly badass fashion, right?”
“Got that right.”
“Hmmm…Sam ran his knife down the side of Bobby’s face.
Bobby hissed. “That all you got?”
Sam cocked his head to the side. “I’m bored. Torturing has never really been my thing. I’m good at it. Trust me on that. But it’s just a means to an end and I’d rather have the end than the means, you know?”
“Don’t got a god damn clue - aargh!”
Sam had stuck the knife in his thigh and idly spun it. “That’s got to be uncomfortable,” he said. He paused, biting his lip and furrowing his brows. “Has Dean ever talked about me?”
Bobby breathed. “You an evil vampire - or a teenage girl?”
“I’m not evil. Dean knows that.”
“He’s deluded like that.”
“So, he has talked about me - with you.” Sam pushed him again, watch him swing and he sure was bored, bored with this whole cat and mouse when he just wanted his brother back - now.
And maybe he was a spoiled brat but Dean was his maker, wasn’t he?
“He likes you. That’s what I’ve heard. You’re a safe haven or something. The pastor took him in, got him hunting. Reaves was the only one that’d sell a weapon to a vampire. And you - you watch out for him, call off the hunter dogs, and lay out the welcome mat. It makes sense. You’re backwoods - like dad used to be. Dean was a real daddy’s boy. Tell me, what happens when you’re all gone.”
Bobby glared at him. He knew what the deal was. Maybe he had a vampire brother with a soul. That would be ironic. Not likely but funny. “He’s got other friends out there,” Bobby growled.
Sam nodded. “The Harvelles - I already thought of that. Did I forget to tell we torched your place when we took you?” He leaned in and whispered, “They were inside.”
“They got out,” Bobby guessed, hoped.
“Maybe. Maybe not. Doesn’t really matter. They had to get out a little singed. That’s good enough. Dean’s got a guilt complex that could fill two football fields even without a soul. Was ready to stake himself for letting our dad stick a pole through my chest. Did you know he killed our father to save me?”
“Dean told me, said it was the worst mistake in his life.”
Sam looked Bobby over, uncertain. Then, his lips turned up slowly. “Liar.”
Sam picked up another knife. It was small and thin. Sam took out a lighter and began to heat the tip. “You know what Dean’s real worst mistake was?” he asked. “It was leaving because he got himself a stupid soul. It was teaming up with you guys, the people who come out at night just to kill us. It was leaving me alone when he made me so that we could stick together.”
“Oh, god, don’t tell me you wrote him a love poem.”
Sam snorted. “No, Spike’s the poet. I'm the planner. Wanna guess what I got in mind for you?”
XXX
Faith walked in, tossing a phone up and down. Sam pulled on a new button-up shirt, light blue with white buttons. He was clean. Faith held out the phone, dangled it from blood slick fingers.
He smiled. “For me?” he said in mock surprise.
Sam grabbed one end but Faith refused to let go of the other. “You ready for this, Sammy? Not gonna go all soft on big brother? Say ‘hey, I’m so sorry, stake me’ because I’d have to rip your head off for that one.”
Sam yanked the phone toward him, pulling her along with it. He fit a hand loosely around her neck. “You gonna give me the phone, Faith? Say ‘here, Sam, I got this just for you’ cause I’d have to rip your head off if you didn’t.”
Faith licked her lips. “Here, Sam, I got this just for you,” she repeated and, of course, it sounded as suggestive as possible.
Sam shook his head in amusement before pulling the phone from her.
She fell backward, over the arm of the couch and down onto the comfy cushions. She placed one hand under her head and watched.
He knew the number by heart now. It rang just once before Dean picked up. “I guess I can’t say you got the wrong number, huh?” he said.
Sam laughed. “No, Dean.”
Sam could hear Dean take a deep, steadying breath. “Hey, Sammy. I haven’t heard from you.”
“I was giving you the silent treatment. Didn’t you notice?”
Dean snorted. “No, I thought you might’ve gotten older, you know? Not so much of a brat. I should’ve known better.”
“Yeah, well, you should’ve known better about a lot of things.”
“Is he dead?” Dean asked.
Sam wrinkled his nose. “He’s moving around. You’re my brother. I had to give you a better shot at this. Tell me your close.”
“Don’t worry. I’m close.”
“I hope so. I’m trying to keep him alive here but he just bleeds too much, which wouldn’t normally be a problem but he doesn’t taste that good. A little like dirt.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t taste him?”
“We’re vampires, remember? I have to sample, at least. Are you close, Dean?”
“I said I was.”
“Really close?”
“Right outside.”
Sam tilted his head to the side and listened. He smiled. “Then come on in. We’ll party.”
Next Part
Artist: iria4285
Mixer: glasslogic
Fandom: Supernatural/Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Type: het, slash, fusion, threesome
Word Count:
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Spike/Sam/Faith, implied Spike/Sam/Dean/Faith, appearances by SPN hunters
Warnings: Sexual content, strong language, blood, death, torture
Summary: Vampire!AU: Years ago, Sam Winchester lost his brother. Dean left him, left them all because he got back his bothersome soul. He joined up with hunters to fight evil and atone for his sins. However, Sam didn't let go that easily and Spike and Faith are pretty used to giving him what he wants. What he wants is to play a dangerous game with Dean's new friends: kill them off one by one until Dean only has only one thing left.
Sam liked nice places. It was just one way he was different from Dean, who’d be comfortable anywhere with a roof (they both hated camping). True to form, when Sam picked the place to take Bobby, he picked in style - among other things.
It was a large estate. A house sat right in the middle, larger than a normal house, a step away from a mansion. The living room was filled with comfortable couches, expensive paintings, and a hunter hanging from the roof. A rope circled his wrists at the bottom and tied around a support beam at the top. His toes brushed against the floor and he could probably stop himself from swinging if he had the strength.
He didn’t.
So, Sam would push and watch him sway back and forth, amused.
“You fainted again, didn’t you?” he asked.
Bobby coughed. “...Don’t faint,” he muttered.
Sam laughed. “Oh, I know this. Dean used to say it: you don’t faint, you pass out, in a manly badass fashion, right?”
“Got that right.”
“Hmmm…Sam ran his knife down the side of Bobby’s face.
Bobby hissed. “That all you got?”
Sam cocked his head to the side. “I’m bored. Torturing has never really been my thing. I’m good at it. Trust me on that. But it’s just a means to an end and I’d rather have the end than the means, you know?”
“Don’t got a god damn clue - aargh!”
Sam had stuck the knife in his thigh and idly spun it. “That’s got to be uncomfortable,” he said. He paused, biting his lip and furrowing his brows. “Has Dean ever talked about me?”
Bobby breathed. “You an evil vampire - or a teenage girl?”
“I’m not evil. Dean knows that.”
“He’s deluded like that.”
“So, he has talked about me - with you.” Sam pushed him again, watch him swing and he sure was bored, bored with this whole cat and mouse when he just wanted his brother back - now.
And maybe he was a spoiled brat but Dean was his maker, wasn’t he?
“He likes you. That’s what I’ve heard. You’re a safe haven or something. The pastor took him in, got him hunting. Reaves was the only one that’d sell a weapon to a vampire. And you - you watch out for him, call off the hunter dogs, and lay out the welcome mat. It makes sense. You’re backwoods - like dad used to be. Dean was a real daddy’s boy. Tell me, what happens when you’re all gone.”
Bobby glared at him. He knew what the deal was. Maybe he had a vampire brother with a soul. That would be ironic. Not likely but funny. “He’s got other friends out there,” Bobby growled.
Sam nodded. “The Harvelles - I already thought of that. Did I forget to tell we torched your place when we took you?” He leaned in and whispered, “They were inside.”
“They got out,” Bobby guessed, hoped.
“Maybe. Maybe not. Doesn’t really matter. They had to get out a little singed. That’s good enough. Dean’s got a guilt complex that could fill two football fields even without a soul. Was ready to stake himself for letting our dad stick a pole through my chest. Did you know he killed our father to save me?”
“Dean told me, said it was the worst mistake in his life.”
Sam looked Bobby over, uncertain. Then, his lips turned up slowly. “Liar.”
Sam picked up another knife. It was small and thin. Sam took out a lighter and began to heat the tip. “You know what Dean’s real worst mistake was?” he asked. “It was leaving because he got himself a stupid soul. It was teaming up with you guys, the people who come out at night just to kill us. It was leaving me alone when he made me so that we could stick together.”
“Oh, god, don’t tell me you wrote him a love poem.”
Sam snorted. “No, Spike’s the poet. I'm the planner. Wanna guess what I got in mind for you?”
XXX
Faith walked in, tossing a phone up and down. Sam pulled on a new button-up shirt, light blue with white buttons. He was clean. Faith held out the phone, dangled it from blood slick fingers.
He smiled. “For me?” he said in mock surprise.
Sam grabbed one end but Faith refused to let go of the other. “You ready for this, Sammy? Not gonna go all soft on big brother? Say ‘hey, I’m so sorry, stake me’ because I’d have to rip your head off for that one.”
Sam yanked the phone toward him, pulling her along with it. He fit a hand loosely around her neck. “You gonna give me the phone, Faith? Say ‘here, Sam, I got this just for you’ cause I’d have to rip your head off if you didn’t.”
Faith licked her lips. “Here, Sam, I got this just for you,” she repeated and, of course, it sounded as suggestive as possible.
Sam shook his head in amusement before pulling the phone from her.
She fell backward, over the arm of the couch and down onto the comfy cushions. She placed one hand under her head and watched.
He knew the number by heart now. It rang just once before Dean picked up. “I guess I can’t say you got the wrong number, huh?” he said.
Sam laughed. “No, Dean.”
Sam could hear Dean take a deep, steadying breath. “Hey, Sammy. I haven’t heard from you.”
“I was giving you the silent treatment. Didn’t you notice?”
Dean snorted. “No, I thought you might’ve gotten older, you know? Not so much of a brat. I should’ve known better.”
“Yeah, well, you should’ve known better about a lot of things.”
“Is he dead?” Dean asked.
Sam wrinkled his nose. “He’s moving around. You’re my brother. I had to give you a better shot at this. Tell me your close.”
“Don’t worry. I’m close.”
“I hope so. I’m trying to keep him alive here but he just bleeds too much, which wouldn’t normally be a problem but he doesn’t taste that good. A little like dirt.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t taste him?”
“We’re vampires, remember? I have to sample, at least. Are you close, Dean?”
“I said I was.”
“Really close?”
“Right outside.”
Sam tilted his head to the side and listened. He smiled. “Then come on in. We’ll party.”
Next Part