Finally Home, Part 1 of 4; Supernatural, Keeper!Verse, PG-13 (this part)
Fandom: Supernatural, Keeper!Verse
Title: Finally Home, Part 1 (All Keeper Verse Here)
Rating: PG-13 (for this part...up to NC-17 over all)
Word Count: 12,444 (total)
Pairings/Characters: Sam/Dean (long term established wincest), John, Dana (Dean's daughter) Scott
Summary: Scott never really believed Sam about Stanford. Not until he met Melanie, and her eyes went black. All black. And just like that, Scott Wu realizes he is in over his head. The question is, can the Winchesters help him, or is he screwed?
A/Ns & Warnings: This story pics up shortly after Losing Sam, Arc 3. There are four parts, all complete. I will be posting them over the next few days. There is some angst and some funny and Dana acting decidedly like an 18 year old with her first taste of freedom, and a little bit of sex and a whole lot of schloomp at the end. As ever in Keeper!verse, thanks go to shotofjack for the beat of awesome and for keeping me sane. *loves*
Scott Wu was not a guy who was easily frightened, or thrown or…whatever this panic in his chest was. If he had been, the thing with Dana would never have lasted. Yet, here he sat, on the floor of his dorm room closet, which really wasn’t much of a closet at all, trying not to breathe, pretending he wasn’t there at all.
She was out there.
Melanie Sampson, his…buddy. That’s what the coach had called her, Scott’s buddy, to help him get acclimated to the school, make sure he knew how to find his classes, shit like that.
He was supposed to be in class, but he wasn’t coming out of the closet until he knew she was gone.
He rubbed a hand over his face and shook his head. It was all wrong. This whole college nightmare was so far fucking wrong that he was fairly certain he wasn’t going to live out the semester. In fact, if any of the Winchester ever saw him like this, hiding in his own fucking closet, Scott was pretty sure he’d die of embarrassment right then and there.
He and Dana had been practical about the whole dating thing. They were both in college, one thousand, eight hundred, and fifty two miles, door to door, if Google maps was to be believed. They had decided that they would date other people, and see what happened come Christmas. And, they were both okay with that.
Well, Dana seemed to be more okay with it than Scott, but Scott had taken her at her word, and then there had been Melanie. Smoking hot, a runner that would give even Dana a run for the money, 4.0 GPA, and a family filled with PhDs, including a Noble nominated scientist and she was a junior to boot.
Melanie had told him that her job was to make him comfortable, to show him a good time. She took that job very seriously.
Very.
And Scott figured he needed the experience, so he’d know if Dana really was the one for him. The next morning, he’d been wracked with guilt, and called Dana to confess.
He got her voice mail.
The next morning was a little easier, and it might have had something to do with the fact that Melanie’s body did things Dana’s had never done, which made his body do things it had never done.
But that was a week before the hiding in the closet.
Before she had invited him to a “church thing” that was like no church he’d ever been to. Before he saw her room, neat and tidy, other than the altar hidden in her closet. Before he caught her talking to someone in the bathroom mirror, her eyes black as tar.
Completely black.
Now, everywhere he looked, he saw demons. Well, he could only assume, because truthfully? Even with everything he had seen with the Winchesters, he hadn’t ever really actually seen a demon.
Still, how could he have let that into his room?
Better yet, how could he have slept with it?
Something like that had ripped Sam up, and left him for dead. He was in over his head and, unlike all the other freshman wandering naively around campus, he was very acutely aware of it.
She had stopped knocking, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He stayed in the closet and fished his cell phone out of his pocket. After only a slight hesitation, he dialed the Winchester’s home phone. It rang once…twice…three times and, just as he was about to hang it up, he heard, “Hello?”
Only it wasn’t Dean’s voice. It was Sam.
Scott almost hung up. His last image of Sam had been one of a frail, broken man who could barely walk and sometimes couldn’t remember his own name. A bunch of other images flashed through him; Sam naked and bleeding on the ground, barely breathing on the floor of their living room.
“Scott?”
Scott cleared his throat. His voice squeaked. “Sam? How did you know?”
“I can hear you breathing.”
“Oh…I…um…”
“Dana’s not here, Scott.”
“Oh, I know. I wasn’t calling for her. I wanted…um…Dean.”
“Dean?” Sam hushed Aristotle. “Is something wrong?”
I’m hiding in my closet from my demon possessed…fuck buddy, why should anything be wrong?
“I just…had a car question.” Scott lied. Sam would know it was a lie. Scott had left his brother’s car behind. “For ah…my roommate.”
“You’re positive nothing’s wrong?”
“Yeah…I…I’m glad you’re feeling better, Sam.”
“Can I have Dean call you back?”
“No…I’ll…try again later.”
Sam frowned at the phone and hung it up. “That was odd, Ari.”
He set her leash on the hall table. Something was very wrong. Scott had been anxious. Sam had felt his heart beat racing, sensed the tension, and picked up, loud and clear, an odd thought about demons, along with the image of a great looking young woman.
He picked up the phone to call Dana, instantly thought better of it. Obviously, the two of them had made the grown-up decision to date outside the relationship, and it wasn’t really Dana’s business. He chewed on his lip and opened himself up, reaching out across the space toward California. Stanford still felt the same…other than the vague, nearly swallowed dot of Scott.
He crossed to the desk and opened the laptop. He could be in Palo Alto by noon the next day. He stopped and thought about it. Dean wouldn’t want him to go alone. Dean didn’t fly. Sam chewed on his lip and looked up as Dean came in from running with Remmy. The puppy was in Dean’s arms, his tongue dragging, his eyes closed, panting.
“You wore him out.” Sam joked, somewhat amazed.
“It took a while. Then we went past Margaret’s and she was outside with the collie pups. He played until he couldn’t stand on his own four feet.”
Sam kissed him and waited for him to realize something was up.
“Something wrong?”
Sam nodded, felt Dean fish around for a reason and offered up the conversation with Scott and the feeling of wrongness that had come with it. “I think he’s in trouble.”
Dean put Remmy on the couch and frowned at Sam. “Still…it’s Stanford, Sam.”
Sam nodded. “I’ll be fine.”
“How long?”
“Few days. Maybe it’s time that place got cleaned up a little anyway.”
Dean crossed his arms. “Long drive.”
“Too long. Have to fly.”
Dean made a face and swallowed. “Yeah, okay.”
“Okay?”
“I’m not letting you go alone, and you’re right, it looks like Scott’s in trouble. Get the tickets, I’ll get Dana to watch the dogs.”
“Wait, you’re gonna fly? Just like that?” Sam asked, crossing his arms and staring down at Dean.
Dean’s face was scrunched up and Sam could feel the anxiety already rolling off him. “I’m going. Don’t make it a thing.”
Sam held up his hands and nodded. “Okay, you’re going, no things.” He wrapped his mind around Dean, filling up a bubble with just them and his amazement at the way Dean loved him.
Dean rolled his eyes and pulled Sam to him, kissing him lightly. Sam didn’t let go though, chasing after Dean’s mouth hungrily. Tickets? Phone calls?
Sam pulled back slowly. “Fine…but after that I’m going to kiss you. A lot. Make you forget about being afraid.”
“Gonna kiss me all the way to California Sammy?”
Sam grinned. “If I have to.”
Dana pretended to be completely absorbed in her reading, but it really wasn’t fooling anybody, least of all not Taylor Martin. He smiled and she blushed. Not too much, she reminded herself. She wanted to reel him in, not send him running.
She put her eyes in her book, then licked her lips. She felt his reaction and hid her grin behind a polite little cough, her hand raised to cover her mouth. When she looked up, he was looking at his buddy, but his face was red.
High school football star. Running back, with the nice tight ass and the muscular legs and hands the size of frying pans. Not the brightest bulb in the pack, but he was the guy on every girl’s radar, and Dana had decided she was going to land him first. She gathered her things and glanced at her watch.
Her father had been cryptic when he’d called and told her to keep an eye on the dogs and the house. She figured the dogs could wait another hour or so before they’d be dancing at the back door and opened her book again as she started walking. She misjudged just a little and plowed into him with her entire left breast instead of just winging him with her elbow. Her book went flying and he whirled to catch her. She let him think he’d rescued her, smiling as she shifted her weight.
“Sorry, I should have my walking license revoked.” She swiped at a stray hair that had escaped her pony tail and took her book back from him when he handed it to her. “I’m Dana.”
“Track team, right? I’m Taylor, football.”
She felt that familiar flush, not as hot as the day she met Travis, lord knows he was no where near as hot as Travis, but right up from her toes, ending in a pleasant tingling in various parts of her body. “I was on my way for coffee, can I buy you one…you know, to apologize?”
He grinned and raised a hand in farewell to his friends. “I like that idea.
Eventually, Scott had to climb out of the closet. He had classes and homework, and training.
The whole conversation with Sam had spooked him, like Sam could just know what was going on, what Scott had been doing…and Scott knew more than enough about Sam’s sex life, he really didn’t need Sam knowing all about his too…because if Sam knew, Dana might find out…in ways far more disturbing to him than a phone conversation about the “Stanford hotties” could ever be.
Truth was, Scott had always believed that the whole Sam/Stanford thing was…well, melodramatic and over. As in…it had been eighteen years since Sam had been there…long time for keeping the same people around.
But then, that was before Scott learned about demons. Before Scott shot a fellow teammate who had grown fur and teeth and claws. Before Scott knew.
Even after, demons were…theoretical. And maybe Sam was just attaching an over the top emotional reaction to the place because, from the very little Scott had discerned,, Sam’s life had been hell. But no one would tell him how or who or even what had been so bad…it was all swept up in the great Dana Elizabeth Winchester’s all-purpose rule: “Don’t ask about Sam.”
Scott sped up to keep ahead of Melanie, even though he was supposed to be doing his cool down laps. He came around the turn, his eyes sweeping up out of old habit, looking for Dana, though he knew she wouldn’t be there. It had only been a few weeks, and his stomach still flopped every time he made the turn and she wasn’t there leaning on the fence.
And she wasn’t.
In the place where she always would wait for him, right by the marker nearest the clubhouse, leaning on the fence in the same posture, was Sam. His hair was long and slicked back, his skin tan. He looked like he’d gained a few pounds.
He looked like Sam again.
Scott’s steps stuttered, and Melanie breezed by him, looking strangely at him. Sam straightened up as Scott approached.
“Looking good.” Sam tossed him a towel.
“What…why…Sam?”
Sam chuckled, and Scott thought it seemed completely out of place. “You sounded like you needed a friend. You done here?”
Scott nodded and wiped his face. His coach was crossing, frowning at his clipboard. “Little slow on that last lap before cool down, Wu.”
“Sorry sir.” Scott responded.
“No visitors during practice.”
“Uh, coach Winters, this is my…um, this is Sam.”
“I’m just in town for the night coach, was hoping to catch up with Scott.”
“Not too late, you got trials tomorrow.”
Scott nodded as the coach walked away. He swallowed hard as Melanie approached. Sam seemed to understand. “So, you shower and meet me out front. I’m taking you to dinner.”
Aristotle gave her a dirty look when Dana finally showed up, circled Taylor quite seriously before sniffing disdainfully and heading for the back door. Remmy bounced around barking at her and Taylor, putting on quite a show, and then at Aristotle when Dana pointedly ignored him.
“Make yourself comfortable, I’m just going to let them out back for a bit.” She dropped her back pack on the table and headed for the rear door. Since Sam’s return he’d built up the back yard, fenced it in physically and psychically and replanted it, and now it was an amazing, peaceful sanctuary. She didn’t have to worry about the dogs, just let them out and make sure the water bowl on the back porch was full.
She came back to the living room to find Taylor looking at the family pictures lining the entertainment center and walls. “Good looking family.”
Dana beamed. “Thank you.”
“Who’s this?” He pointed at her prom picture, fortunately, taken well before the onset of zombies.
“Scott, my boyfriend senior year.”
“Was?” Taylor turned to her, full-on blue beams of lust in his eyes.
She nodded. “He’s at Stanford. We agreed to see other people.”
“Very mature.”
She shrugged, moving so that she was standing right in his space. “It means I can do this.” She reached for his face, turned him and made her move. He seemed a little startled, but relaxed when she opened her mouth, inviting him to do more with his lips than talk.
“You don’t waste time.” Taylor said as she pulled away and headed to the couch.
“Life is short. I think a person should go after what they want, when they want it.” She flopped down and then lifted a hand to her breast where it had collided with his elbow.
“You okay?”
She raised an eyebrow and looked up at him. “Well, I don’t think it will require surgery or anything.”
He crossed to her, staring down at her before deciding she was offering him an opening. “I could maybe, check it…if you want.”
Dana grinned and crooked her finger in a “come hither” gesture. She had two hours to kill before her study date with Charles Gildmore, who was going to help her through her biology class…or at the very least help her become more acquainted with biology.
“So, is it just the girl?” Sam asked as the waiter left their food.
“What?”
Sam leaned over the table and lowered his voice. “I’m assuming that’s the cause of the freak out? The girl, at the track? The one with the demon all curled up inside her?”
“I’m not freaking out.” Scott said defensively, though he didn’t meet Sam’s eyes. “I feel like they’re everywhere.”
Sam sat back and surveyed the restaurant. They weren’t far off campus. Sam had spent a few hours here in his college career. He picked out the likely problems. Couple of jocks at the counter. The computer geek in the corner with the unlikely friends hanging around him. It wasn’t all that different from his days at Stanford. “They are everywhere, but you knew that.”
“This is different.” Scott muttered, picking up his burger.
Sam raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t been wrong. The anxiety pouring off of Scott filled the room. It set him on edge. “So, not just the girl?”
“I don’t know.” Scott sulked and shoved food into his mouth.
Slowly it dawned on Sam. “You slept with her.”
Scott didn’t even try to feign an objection. “It was Dana’s idea.”
Sam chuckled. “Dana told you to sleep with a demon possessed track star?”
Scott rolled his eyes. “To see other people. Her idea. I didn’t know. Then she…went all demon-eyes and shit, and now I can’t get away from her. She’s everywhere.”
Sam chuckled, but he really did feel bad for the kid. He was just settling in to enjoy his own burger when his eyes spotted a familiar face. Ambrose Devlin.
The years hadn’t been kind to him. He was gray and he walked with a limp as he went to the table where the geek was holding court with a bunch of Goths and wanna-be bad-asses. Sam watched, waited.
Ambrose brought with him a whole different sense of what was wrong. Devlin Industries was one of many businesses with ties to the underworld, populated by demon-worshippers and worse. Old friends of the family that had raised him. Ambrose turned, his eyes widening.
His smile was entirely false and plastic as he crossed the room. Sam felt Scott’s sudden lurch of dislike and floated a calm wave toward him. He needed to assess the situation, and he didn’t need Scott getting anymore worked up.
“Sam Winchester?”
“Ambrose Devlin.” Sam didn’t stand up, didn’t raise his hand to shake, just nodded. He spared a quick glance at Scott, to see if he’d noticed the name used, but Scott was sulking and staring into his burger. Sam felt Ambrose try to needle his way into the old controls. Ambrose had been one of those that made Stanford hell. Sam smiled. “Long time. Things change.”
Ambrose nodded tightly. “I guess so.” He glanced at Scott, frowning. “Mr. Wu? What are you doing with this guy?”
Sam felt the compulsion for Scott to respond. His head snapped up and his mouth opened, though nothing came out immediately. They had their hooks in pretty good. Scott’s eyes filled with fear in response. He opened his mouth, but Sam cut him off. “Actually, I’m here checking up on my boy.” Sam said, understanding all of it now. They were trying to recruit Scott. They wanted him. The sex had probably been a binding of some sort. The more sex they had, the more tightly Scott would get wound up in it.
“Your boy?”
Sam met Scott’s eyes, reached into his head. Trust me, and follow my lead. He felt Scott’s silent agreement and fingered a few controls, ready to force him if he had to. “Yeah, my boy.”
Ambrose forced a laugh. “There are no marks indicating you own him.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “You just didn’t look deep enough, Ambrose. My skill set has grown.”
“He belongs to Devlin Industries. He accepted the scholarship, signed the agreement, spoke the words.”
“I didn’t-“ Sam pressed in on one of the controls and Scott stopped, cold.
“I won’t argue with you over it, Ambrose. We can get a mediator if you’d like.” Sam didn’t want to have to go that far. He wanted to get Scott the fuck out of Palo Alto and kick his shit all over Lawrence for not paying attention. Obviously the “church service” was an initiation, and somehow they’d gotten him to recite the words.
“Midnight.” Ambrose turned to walk away. “No tricks, you know the penalty.”
“Goes double for you.” Sam said. When he was gone, Sam sighed and let go of Scott’s mind. “Fuck. I need someplace to work.”
“Work?” Scott seemed stuck, staring after Ambrose.
“Yeah, I have to get you ready…and I have to find a mediator I trust.”
“Someone you can trick?”
Sam shook his head. “No. Someone who will be impartial. Someone who will recognize my claim.”
“My roommate has classes until 10. We can go to my room.”
Sam nodded. “Eat. I’m going to make some calls.”
Dana straightened her clothes, wiped her face. She was all worked up now. Maybe spending an hour making out on her parent’s couch wasn’t the best choice in the world prior to a study session.
She would have taken it all the way, but time ran away from them. Now, she had just about twenty minutes to feed the dogs, get them settled in for the night and race back to campus to meet Charles in the library. Taylor was looking decidedly frustrated.
“So, there’s a party tonight at Delta house. You going?” Dana asked, buttoning her shirt back up.
“Delta? Maybe.”
“I plan on being there.” She watched his eyes light up. “We could maybe…pick up where we left off?”
He grinned and nodded. “I’ll see if I can clear my schedule.”
She went to let Remmy and Ari in, ducked into the kitchen to feed them and told Aristotle to keep an eye on things. “I’ll be by in the morning, okay, Ari? Keep the runt from destroying anything.”
“You ready to go?” Taylor asked, hitching his thumb toward the door.
“Yeah, can you drop me at my dorm? I need to get my biology notebook.”
And she wanted the entire dorm to see her getting out of Taylor’s car.
Title: Finally Home, Part 1 (All Keeper Verse Here)
Rating: PG-13 (for this part...up to NC-17 over all)
Word Count: 12,444 (total)
Pairings/Characters: Sam/Dean (long term established wincest), John, Dana (Dean's daughter) Scott
Summary: Scott never really believed Sam about Stanford. Not until he met Melanie, and her eyes went black. All black. And just like that, Scott Wu realizes he is in over his head. The question is, can the Winchesters help him, or is he screwed?
A/Ns & Warnings: This story pics up shortly after Losing Sam, Arc 3. There are four parts, all complete. I will be posting them over the next few days. There is some angst and some funny and Dana acting decidedly like an 18 year old with her first taste of freedom, and a little bit of sex and a whole lot of schloomp at the end. As ever in Keeper!verse, thanks go to shotofjack for the beat of awesome and for keeping me sane. *loves*
Scott Wu was not a guy who was easily frightened, or thrown or…whatever this panic in his chest was. If he had been, the thing with Dana would never have lasted. Yet, here he sat, on the floor of his dorm room closet, which really wasn’t much of a closet at all, trying not to breathe, pretending he wasn’t there at all.
She was out there.
Melanie Sampson, his…buddy. That’s what the coach had called her, Scott’s buddy, to help him get acclimated to the school, make sure he knew how to find his classes, shit like that.
He was supposed to be in class, but he wasn’t coming out of the closet until he knew she was gone.
He rubbed a hand over his face and shook his head. It was all wrong. This whole college nightmare was so far fucking wrong that he was fairly certain he wasn’t going to live out the semester. In fact, if any of the Winchester ever saw him like this, hiding in his own fucking closet, Scott was pretty sure he’d die of embarrassment right then and there.
He and Dana had been practical about the whole dating thing. They were both in college, one thousand, eight hundred, and fifty two miles, door to door, if Google maps was to be believed. They had decided that they would date other people, and see what happened come Christmas. And, they were both okay with that.
Well, Dana seemed to be more okay with it than Scott, but Scott had taken her at her word, and then there had been Melanie. Smoking hot, a runner that would give even Dana a run for the money, 4.0 GPA, and a family filled with PhDs, including a Noble nominated scientist and she was a junior to boot.
Melanie had told him that her job was to make him comfortable, to show him a good time. She took that job very seriously.
Very.
And Scott figured he needed the experience, so he’d know if Dana really was the one for him. The next morning, he’d been wracked with guilt, and called Dana to confess.
He got her voice mail.
The next morning was a little easier, and it might have had something to do with the fact that Melanie’s body did things Dana’s had never done, which made his body do things it had never done.
But that was a week before the hiding in the closet.
Before she had invited him to a “church thing” that was like no church he’d ever been to. Before he saw her room, neat and tidy, other than the altar hidden in her closet. Before he caught her talking to someone in the bathroom mirror, her eyes black as tar.
Completely black.
Now, everywhere he looked, he saw demons. Well, he could only assume, because truthfully? Even with everything he had seen with the Winchesters, he hadn’t ever really actually seen a demon.
Still, how could he have let that into his room?
Better yet, how could he have slept with it?
Something like that had ripped Sam up, and left him for dead. He was in over his head and, unlike all the other freshman wandering naively around campus, he was very acutely aware of it.
She had stopped knocking, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He stayed in the closet and fished his cell phone out of his pocket. After only a slight hesitation, he dialed the Winchester’s home phone. It rang once…twice…three times and, just as he was about to hang it up, he heard, “Hello?”
Only it wasn’t Dean’s voice. It was Sam.
Scott almost hung up. His last image of Sam had been one of a frail, broken man who could barely walk and sometimes couldn’t remember his own name. A bunch of other images flashed through him; Sam naked and bleeding on the ground, barely breathing on the floor of their living room.
“Scott?”
Scott cleared his throat. His voice squeaked. “Sam? How did you know?”
“I can hear you breathing.”
“Oh…I…um…”
“Dana’s not here, Scott.”
“Oh, I know. I wasn’t calling for her. I wanted…um…Dean.”
“Dean?” Sam hushed Aristotle. “Is something wrong?”
I’m hiding in my closet from my demon possessed…fuck buddy, why should anything be wrong?
“I just…had a car question.” Scott lied. Sam would know it was a lie. Scott had left his brother’s car behind. “For ah…my roommate.”
“You’re positive nothing’s wrong?”
“Yeah…I…I’m glad you’re feeling better, Sam.”
“Can I have Dean call you back?”
“No…I’ll…try again later.”
Sam frowned at the phone and hung it up. “That was odd, Ari.”
He set her leash on the hall table. Something was very wrong. Scott had been anxious. Sam had felt his heart beat racing, sensed the tension, and picked up, loud and clear, an odd thought about demons, along with the image of a great looking young woman.
He picked up the phone to call Dana, instantly thought better of it. Obviously, the two of them had made the grown-up decision to date outside the relationship, and it wasn’t really Dana’s business. He chewed on his lip and opened himself up, reaching out across the space toward California. Stanford still felt the same…other than the vague, nearly swallowed dot of Scott.
He crossed to the desk and opened the laptop. He could be in Palo Alto by noon the next day. He stopped and thought about it. Dean wouldn’t want him to go alone. Dean didn’t fly. Sam chewed on his lip and looked up as Dean came in from running with Remmy. The puppy was in Dean’s arms, his tongue dragging, his eyes closed, panting.
“You wore him out.” Sam joked, somewhat amazed.
“It took a while. Then we went past Margaret’s and she was outside with the collie pups. He played until he couldn’t stand on his own four feet.”
Sam kissed him and waited for him to realize something was up.
“Something wrong?”
Sam nodded, felt Dean fish around for a reason and offered up the conversation with Scott and the feeling of wrongness that had come with it. “I think he’s in trouble.”
Dean put Remmy on the couch and frowned at Sam. “Still…it’s Stanford, Sam.”
Sam nodded. “I’ll be fine.”
“How long?”
“Few days. Maybe it’s time that place got cleaned up a little anyway.”
Dean crossed his arms. “Long drive.”
“Too long. Have to fly.”
Dean made a face and swallowed. “Yeah, okay.”
“Okay?”
“I’m not letting you go alone, and you’re right, it looks like Scott’s in trouble. Get the tickets, I’ll get Dana to watch the dogs.”
“Wait, you’re gonna fly? Just like that?” Sam asked, crossing his arms and staring down at Dean.
Dean’s face was scrunched up and Sam could feel the anxiety already rolling off him. “I’m going. Don’t make it a thing.”
Sam held up his hands and nodded. “Okay, you’re going, no things.” He wrapped his mind around Dean, filling up a bubble with just them and his amazement at the way Dean loved him.
Dean rolled his eyes and pulled Sam to him, kissing him lightly. Sam didn’t let go though, chasing after Dean’s mouth hungrily. Tickets? Phone calls?
Sam pulled back slowly. “Fine…but after that I’m going to kiss you. A lot. Make you forget about being afraid.”
“Gonna kiss me all the way to California Sammy?”
Sam grinned. “If I have to.”
Dana pretended to be completely absorbed in her reading, but it really wasn’t fooling anybody, least of all not Taylor Martin. He smiled and she blushed. Not too much, she reminded herself. She wanted to reel him in, not send him running.
She put her eyes in her book, then licked her lips. She felt his reaction and hid her grin behind a polite little cough, her hand raised to cover her mouth. When she looked up, he was looking at his buddy, but his face was red.
High school football star. Running back, with the nice tight ass and the muscular legs and hands the size of frying pans. Not the brightest bulb in the pack, but he was the guy on every girl’s radar, and Dana had decided she was going to land him first. She gathered her things and glanced at her watch.
Her father had been cryptic when he’d called and told her to keep an eye on the dogs and the house. She figured the dogs could wait another hour or so before they’d be dancing at the back door and opened her book again as she started walking. She misjudged just a little and plowed into him with her entire left breast instead of just winging him with her elbow. Her book went flying and he whirled to catch her. She let him think he’d rescued her, smiling as she shifted her weight.
“Sorry, I should have my walking license revoked.” She swiped at a stray hair that had escaped her pony tail and took her book back from him when he handed it to her. “I’m Dana.”
“Track team, right? I’m Taylor, football.”
She felt that familiar flush, not as hot as the day she met Travis, lord knows he was no where near as hot as Travis, but right up from her toes, ending in a pleasant tingling in various parts of her body. “I was on my way for coffee, can I buy you one…you know, to apologize?”
He grinned and raised a hand in farewell to his friends. “I like that idea.
Eventually, Scott had to climb out of the closet. He had classes and homework, and training.
The whole conversation with Sam had spooked him, like Sam could just know what was going on, what Scott had been doing…and Scott knew more than enough about Sam’s sex life, he really didn’t need Sam knowing all about his too…because if Sam knew, Dana might find out…in ways far more disturbing to him than a phone conversation about the “Stanford hotties” could ever be.
Truth was, Scott had always believed that the whole Sam/Stanford thing was…well, melodramatic and over. As in…it had been eighteen years since Sam had been there…long time for keeping the same people around.
But then, that was before Scott learned about demons. Before Scott shot a fellow teammate who had grown fur and teeth and claws. Before Scott knew.
Even after, demons were…theoretical. And maybe Sam was just attaching an over the top emotional reaction to the place because, from the very little Scott had discerned,, Sam’s life had been hell. But no one would tell him how or who or even what had been so bad…it was all swept up in the great Dana Elizabeth Winchester’s all-purpose rule: “Don’t ask about Sam.”
Scott sped up to keep ahead of Melanie, even though he was supposed to be doing his cool down laps. He came around the turn, his eyes sweeping up out of old habit, looking for Dana, though he knew she wouldn’t be there. It had only been a few weeks, and his stomach still flopped every time he made the turn and she wasn’t there leaning on the fence.
And she wasn’t.
In the place where she always would wait for him, right by the marker nearest the clubhouse, leaning on the fence in the same posture, was Sam. His hair was long and slicked back, his skin tan. He looked like he’d gained a few pounds.
He looked like Sam again.
Scott’s steps stuttered, and Melanie breezed by him, looking strangely at him. Sam straightened up as Scott approached.
“Looking good.” Sam tossed him a towel.
“What…why…Sam?”
Sam chuckled, and Scott thought it seemed completely out of place. “You sounded like you needed a friend. You done here?”
Scott nodded and wiped his face. His coach was crossing, frowning at his clipboard. “Little slow on that last lap before cool down, Wu.”
“Sorry sir.” Scott responded.
“No visitors during practice.”
“Uh, coach Winters, this is my…um, this is Sam.”
“I’m just in town for the night coach, was hoping to catch up with Scott.”
“Not too late, you got trials tomorrow.”
Scott nodded as the coach walked away. He swallowed hard as Melanie approached. Sam seemed to understand. “So, you shower and meet me out front. I’m taking you to dinner.”
Aristotle gave her a dirty look when Dana finally showed up, circled Taylor quite seriously before sniffing disdainfully and heading for the back door. Remmy bounced around barking at her and Taylor, putting on quite a show, and then at Aristotle when Dana pointedly ignored him.
“Make yourself comfortable, I’m just going to let them out back for a bit.” She dropped her back pack on the table and headed for the rear door. Since Sam’s return he’d built up the back yard, fenced it in physically and psychically and replanted it, and now it was an amazing, peaceful sanctuary. She didn’t have to worry about the dogs, just let them out and make sure the water bowl on the back porch was full.
She came back to the living room to find Taylor looking at the family pictures lining the entertainment center and walls. “Good looking family.”
Dana beamed. “Thank you.”
“Who’s this?” He pointed at her prom picture, fortunately, taken well before the onset of zombies.
“Scott, my boyfriend senior year.”
“Was?” Taylor turned to her, full-on blue beams of lust in his eyes.
She nodded. “He’s at Stanford. We agreed to see other people.”
“Very mature.”
She shrugged, moving so that she was standing right in his space. “It means I can do this.” She reached for his face, turned him and made her move. He seemed a little startled, but relaxed when she opened her mouth, inviting him to do more with his lips than talk.
“You don’t waste time.” Taylor said as she pulled away and headed to the couch.
“Life is short. I think a person should go after what they want, when they want it.” She flopped down and then lifted a hand to her breast where it had collided with his elbow.
“You okay?”
She raised an eyebrow and looked up at him. “Well, I don’t think it will require surgery or anything.”
He crossed to her, staring down at her before deciding she was offering him an opening. “I could maybe, check it…if you want.”
Dana grinned and crooked her finger in a “come hither” gesture. She had two hours to kill before her study date with Charles Gildmore, who was going to help her through her biology class…or at the very least help her become more acquainted with biology.
“So, is it just the girl?” Sam asked as the waiter left their food.
“What?”
Sam leaned over the table and lowered his voice. “I’m assuming that’s the cause of the freak out? The girl, at the track? The one with the demon all curled up inside her?”
“I’m not freaking out.” Scott said defensively, though he didn’t meet Sam’s eyes. “I feel like they’re everywhere.”
Sam sat back and surveyed the restaurant. They weren’t far off campus. Sam had spent a few hours here in his college career. He picked out the likely problems. Couple of jocks at the counter. The computer geek in the corner with the unlikely friends hanging around him. It wasn’t all that different from his days at Stanford. “They are everywhere, but you knew that.”
“This is different.” Scott muttered, picking up his burger.
Sam raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t been wrong. The anxiety pouring off of Scott filled the room. It set him on edge. “So, not just the girl?”
“I don’t know.” Scott sulked and shoved food into his mouth.
Slowly it dawned on Sam. “You slept with her.”
Scott didn’t even try to feign an objection. “It was Dana’s idea.”
Sam chuckled. “Dana told you to sleep with a demon possessed track star?”
Scott rolled his eyes. “To see other people. Her idea. I didn’t know. Then she…went all demon-eyes and shit, and now I can’t get away from her. She’s everywhere.”
Sam chuckled, but he really did feel bad for the kid. He was just settling in to enjoy his own burger when his eyes spotted a familiar face. Ambrose Devlin.
The years hadn’t been kind to him. He was gray and he walked with a limp as he went to the table where the geek was holding court with a bunch of Goths and wanna-be bad-asses. Sam watched, waited.
Ambrose brought with him a whole different sense of what was wrong. Devlin Industries was one of many businesses with ties to the underworld, populated by demon-worshippers and worse. Old friends of the family that had raised him. Ambrose turned, his eyes widening.
His smile was entirely false and plastic as he crossed the room. Sam felt Scott’s sudden lurch of dislike and floated a calm wave toward him. He needed to assess the situation, and he didn’t need Scott getting anymore worked up.
“Sam Winchester?”
“Ambrose Devlin.” Sam didn’t stand up, didn’t raise his hand to shake, just nodded. He spared a quick glance at Scott, to see if he’d noticed the name used, but Scott was sulking and staring into his burger. Sam felt Ambrose try to needle his way into the old controls. Ambrose had been one of those that made Stanford hell. Sam smiled. “Long time. Things change.”
Ambrose nodded tightly. “I guess so.” He glanced at Scott, frowning. “Mr. Wu? What are you doing with this guy?”
Sam felt the compulsion for Scott to respond. His head snapped up and his mouth opened, though nothing came out immediately. They had their hooks in pretty good. Scott’s eyes filled with fear in response. He opened his mouth, but Sam cut him off. “Actually, I’m here checking up on my boy.” Sam said, understanding all of it now. They were trying to recruit Scott. They wanted him. The sex had probably been a binding of some sort. The more sex they had, the more tightly Scott would get wound up in it.
“Your boy?”
Sam met Scott’s eyes, reached into his head. Trust me, and follow my lead. He felt Scott’s silent agreement and fingered a few controls, ready to force him if he had to. “Yeah, my boy.”
Ambrose forced a laugh. “There are no marks indicating you own him.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “You just didn’t look deep enough, Ambrose. My skill set has grown.”
“He belongs to Devlin Industries. He accepted the scholarship, signed the agreement, spoke the words.”
“I didn’t-“ Sam pressed in on one of the controls and Scott stopped, cold.
“I won’t argue with you over it, Ambrose. We can get a mediator if you’d like.” Sam didn’t want to have to go that far. He wanted to get Scott the fuck out of Palo Alto and kick his shit all over Lawrence for not paying attention. Obviously the “church service” was an initiation, and somehow they’d gotten him to recite the words.
“Midnight.” Ambrose turned to walk away. “No tricks, you know the penalty.”
“Goes double for you.” Sam said. When he was gone, Sam sighed and let go of Scott’s mind. “Fuck. I need someplace to work.”
“Work?” Scott seemed stuck, staring after Ambrose.
“Yeah, I have to get you ready…and I have to find a mediator I trust.”
“Someone you can trick?”
Sam shook his head. “No. Someone who will be impartial. Someone who will recognize my claim.”
“My roommate has classes until 10. We can go to my room.”
Sam nodded. “Eat. I’m going to make some calls.”
Dana straightened her clothes, wiped her face. She was all worked up now. Maybe spending an hour making out on her parent’s couch wasn’t the best choice in the world prior to a study session.
She would have taken it all the way, but time ran away from them. Now, she had just about twenty minutes to feed the dogs, get them settled in for the night and race back to campus to meet Charles in the library. Taylor was looking decidedly frustrated.
“So, there’s a party tonight at Delta house. You going?” Dana asked, buttoning her shirt back up.
“Delta? Maybe.”
“I plan on being there.” She watched his eyes light up. “We could maybe…pick up where we left off?”
He grinned and nodded. “I’ll see if I can clear my schedule.”
She went to let Remmy and Ari in, ducked into the kitchen to feed them and told Aristotle to keep an eye on things. “I’ll be by in the morning, okay, Ari? Keep the runt from destroying anything.”
“You ready to go?” Taylor asked, hitching his thumb toward the door.
“Yeah, can you drop me at my dorm? I need to get my biology notebook.”
And she wanted the entire dorm to see her getting out of Taylor’s car.