Work Text:
Sam walked back towards the Motel, his emotions, never far from the surface, were swirling around inside him like a maelstrom gone crazy, making it impossible for him to separate them and examine them one by one.
He wasn't sure if Dean's attitude at the bar with Walker had upset him, angered him, or just plain pissed him off. Perhaps there was even a touch of jealousy, in that his brother seemed to prefer and enjoy the company of the older hunter to his own.
Sam didn't know, and honestly, at that moment he didn't even care. Let the two of them enjoy exchanging stories, boasting about hunting and decapitating vampires. He'd had quite enough for one night.
His senses, however, honed to alertness by his father's paranoid upbringing and the inherent danger of the hunt, suddenly sparked into life, making the hairs on the back of Sam's neck bristle.
Resisting the urge to look around, he quickly continued to the motel room, pausing only to grab a can of soda from the vending machine, more as an excuse to check on the supposed intruder than because he was thirsty.
He used the brief moment to listen for anything unusual, but all he picked up were the habitual noises of the night. He shrugged to himself, he must have been mistaken.
This encounter with Walker had affected him in strange ways, making him jumpy.
Safely reaching the door, Sam entered and just managed to hang up the keys before he felt his head explode into a ball of red agony before everything went black.
He'd feared for his life when he'd awoken and seen just who it was that kidnapped him. It was one of the perks of the job, Sam mused ironically; hunters get to die in creative ways, and being sucked dry by a vampire was as good a death as any.
His thoughts flew to Dean and he wondered if he'd ever find out how his little brother had died and where his exsanguinated body would be left to rot, but to Sam's surprise, Lenore limited herself to explaining her clan's "vegetarian" lifestyle, asking only to be left in peace.
Sam was accompanied back to the Motel by her mate without a hair on his head having been touched, leaving the younger Winchester dumbfounded.
She'd really meant what she'd said!
Somehow Sam felt a little of the weight he'd been carrying lift from his shoulders. A monster could control its nature after all! It could choose to be good or evil just as humans could. He wondered if they too had a soul.
He needed to explain all this to Dean, make him understand that there is always a choice, for monsters...and for Sam Winchester too.
He burst into the motel room with his news only to feel all his negative emotions resurfacing at the sight of Walker sitting across the table from Dean, looking for all the world as if he was ready to take Sam's rightful place at his brother's side.
The younger man pushed down his anger.
To have any hope of persuading Dean about the reformed vamps, Sam had to remain calm, keep his simmering emotions under control, and explain soothingly and logically to his big brother Lenore's choice of not drinking human blood.
Dean took his leave of Gordon and listened to Sam's story but while in no way convinced, he assured Sam that he would try to keep an open mind.
Walker though, had eavesdropped on their conversation, thus arriving before the Winchesters at Lenore's hideout where they found him in the middle of a torture session with the female vampire, sadistically enjoying his handiwork, causing both brothers to feel disgusted at the sight
It wasn't until Walker laid a hand on Sam, however, yanking him by the arm and drawing his knife, already stained with the blood of the vampire, across Sam's taut skin, that Dean Winchester came into his own.
Touch Sammy and die!
That had always been his creed ever since the warm bundle of baby Sammy had been placed in his four-year-old arms all those years ago, and it was just as valid today as it had ever been.
If eyes could kill, Walker would have been carrion meat thirty seconds ago when he had dared to lay a hand on Sam and spill his precious blood onto Lenore's face. Just the idea of a vampire drinking his little brother's blood made the gorge rise in Dean's throat.
His gaze hardened even more. Any kinship he'd felt towards Walker earlier dissolved like snow on a hot summer's day.
His trigger finger was itching to pull itself backward and put a bullet through Gordon's smug face.
"Sammy, take Lenore out of here and see her and her people on their way," he ordered his brother.
Sam was too caught up in helping the vampire to notice the deadly look in his brother's eyes.
With Sam gone, Dean motioned Gordon to a chair in the other room.
Fate was smiling at him today as he saw a loop of thick cord conveniently placed on a nearby table. Never taking his eyes from Walker he used the hunter's knife to cut off two lengths which he threw to him.
"Tie your feet to the chair legs, Gordy or I'll just pistol-whip you and do it myself. The choice is yours."
Gordon didn't bother protesting. Dean Winchester was one scary dude especially when all that hate was channeled toward him.
Dean watched attentively as Walker complied. "That's it, nice and neat. Now hands behind your back."
Once he had Gordon trussed up like a turkey, Dean circled him like a wolf about to sink its fangs into its prey.
"You know Gordy; I don't know how I could ever have seen you as a good hunter. A man who kills his sister is no better than the demons that come out of Hell, and I don't care if she was a vampire."
"You would do the same thing Winchester if it happened to you." Walker answered convinced.
Dean just shook his head in disbelief. "I wouldn't kill Sam if he was Lucifer himself, and know this Walker if I ever see you near my brother again, so help me God I will make you wish you'd never been born."
He lowered his head to Walker's eye level as he spoke so that there would be no misunderstanding, and Walker shivered as he looked into the gelid green eyes.
He didn't need to be told twice. He would stay as far from Sam Winchester as he could. At least for now!
The End.