This story is written by Alterra von Feures and myself as a part of our alternate re-telling of Supernatural.
Set after the end of Season 2. Dean and Sam goes after a creature that kills and feeds on young women. But, as Sam discovers, things get a bit more complicated than that when he finds himself attracted to one of the would be victims.
“Well Ill be damned”, Sheriff Miller breathed as he bent over the spot Marissa’s had died. “Where the hell did she go?” He looked around nervously, his fingers smoothing over the well worn hilt of his 45.
Willard was playing out an Ace Ventura, gun out, moving left to right in exaggerated motions, scanning the dense shrubbery close by.
“Just what was I dragged out of bed for?” Came the irritated voice of the bony doctor, shoving his spectacles higher across his thin nose as he lifted Deans bloody and mangled shirt into the air.
Miller scratched his head. “I am sorry, Doc. But I swear that there is a body.”
The doctor nodded sadly. “Another dead girl? Who?”
“Someone named Marissa. No one from town.”
“Do you think the monster grabbed her?” Willard asked, his eyes widening with youthful enthusiasm.
Miller sighed. “There is no monster.” Keeping up the masquerade was important. If people found out that he thought the killer to be some sort of beast taken right out of a horror movie they would think him insane. “But, yes Willard. The killer might have taken the body.” He got an idea. “Why don’t you look for clues, dust for fingerprints and try to find DNA-” Before he even had time to finish the sentence Willard had run back to their car to get his beloved CSI-kit out of the trunk.
The doctor shook his bald head. “He is a great kid that one, dumb as an oxen, but great. So, what are you going to do about this… what did you say again?”
“Fideal.” Miller shrugged. “I think I’ll let the Winchesters handle it as long as they are discreet.”
The Doc glanced at the two figures in the car. “They’re just boys, Henry.”
“So where we when we crawled through the jungles of ‘Nam, Doc.”
“True.” The two men shared a glance. Then the Doc threw the cigarette he had smoked on the ground and placed a foot on it, extinguishing it.
“If they should need medical intention, God forbid, take them to me. To my house, not the clinic.”
Millard nodded. “I better get them back to the motel before the meeting at the town hall is over. Be careful, Doc.”
The short man smiled, showing a shadow of the young man he had once been. “I always am, Sarge.”
The copper haired girl opened the door allowing Sam to step out of the car.
“No handles on the inside”, he said, thankful for the darkness that hid his shame of the lame comment.
Stormy smiled at him. Before she could say anything Dean too climbed out of the car, nearly toppling his brother over.
“This is my brother”, Sam said. Why, oh why do the lamest things fall out of my mouth? He thought desperately.
“So this is Jason Bates, the psycho killer from outer space”, Stormy said with a grin, eyeing the blood that spattered Dean’s face and chest. “Nice outfit.”
Dean ignored her for the moment in favour of glaring at his gangly younger brother. “You blew our cover?” He hissed out of the corner of his mouth.
“It was a stupid cover, Dean”, Sam replied. “She figured out the names Jason and Freddy Bates weren’t real ones.” He turned to Stormy again. “You have to forgive Dean. He is a jerk at times, he just can’t help it.”
“Older brothers are suppose to be jerks”, Stormy said with a shrug. “I think it’s the law.” They smiled at each other, eyes locked.
“Shheesh” Dean rolled his eyes, suddenly annoyed with the doe eyed pair, dragging dirty fingers over his short cropped hair.
“Winchester”, came a low worried voice behind him as an infatuated Sam and Stormy whispered to each other.
Dean turned to face the sheriff noticing deputy Willard fidgeting at his back. “What’s going down Miller?” He asked eyeing the doc struggling to shove his over large bag back into the car.
“Christ sakes, Willard help the doc already!” Miller near bellowed, sending the heavy set man running for the doc’s car. “Your girl is gone…” Miller said soberly having turned back to Dean. He spat a stream of tobacco juice across the dusty pavement.
“The Fideal?” Dean asked his fingers lingering on a strained point at the back of his neck. He felt cold all the sudden.
“Possibly”, The Sheriff handed him his coat and held up his blood stained shirt in a plastic bag. “Mind if we run samples on the blood?”
Dean shook his head as he shrugged into his coat. Stepping closer to the Sheriff he did a nervous nose scratch as he said in low tones. “You think you can trust us like you trusted our father?”
“Tell me what I need to know, boy”, Miller replied spitting another stream of juice.
‘We’re wanted by the FBI”, Dean said frankly. “Not because we did anything wrong…”
“…was only percieved that way.” The sheriff finished for him, nodding in understanding .”Tell ya what Winchester, I figure I already owe your father one and two. If you boys stop this thing, you’ll always be safe in my jurisdiction.” He winked at Dean’s thin smile.
“I got your back, son” Miller said warmly as Dean turned to find Sam. He nodded at the man over his shoulder turning to find Stormy held close to Sam’s lean form. Both smiling as he grinned at Sam who ignored his wink.
“How about a ride back to the hotel” He said all affable and sweet.
Sam looked at Stormy hesitating as he took her delicate hand in his. “Um would you care to ..”
“I’d love to go”, she smiled beautifully before he could finish.
“Great!” Sam grinned as they made their way to the pumpkin patch car.
“This is your car?” She snickered.
“It’s his”, both men said at the same time, pointing at each other.
“It’s adorable.” She laughed managing to squeeze in past the bags in the tiny back seat.
Sam gave Dean a look as they drove out onto the road.
“Oh be careful for the sheep on the road”, Stormy said pressing into the two front seats to see Sam better.
Dean laughed sharply, earning a scathing look from Sam. “Yea, Sam watch out for those sheep!”
Sam jerked into another gear giving everyone a little whiplash. Dean sneered and Stormy giggled.
They pulled into the gloomy parking lot with Dean hoping out without a backward glance, heading for a blissful shower.
Sam felt awkward having this pretty young girl in front of a hotel… Christ,what was he thinking!
“Umm, want to come in?” he asked, lamness pounding in his skull.
“Sure”, Stormy said, unafraid as she smiled at him.
“Umm, yea I think we got some soft drinks in there…” He thumbed at the door nervously.
She laughed softly. “OK… Don’t worry Sam, I won’t bite.”
“Oh! I wasn’t worried about that… I thought maybe you were thinking I would.” He felt heat and colour rising high across his cheeks.
She shook her copper clad head gently standing on tiptoes to give him a kiss. Sam felt a warm jolt of heat of a different kind raze his stomach as he wrapped his arms around her, picking her off her feet and kissing her deeply. It was wonderful.
Setting her down carefully, he caught the motel curtain swinging shut from the corner of his eye. “Brother…” he mumbled taking her hand and taking her inside the mundane room.
Dean was just closing the door to the bathroom.
Sam sat on one of the beds after finding a couple cans of coke, cracking the first one to hand her as she sat beside him.
“So Sam, tell me more about you and your brother?”
Sam sputtered over a mouthful of his coke. Let’s see, we are what’s left of a dysfunctional family, our parents killed by demons. Hunters by trade, we kill vampires, demons, werewolves… lots of blood and gore, blah, blah blah…
“Sam?” She asked more softly, her eyes meeting his in that wild colt roll.
“It’s… it’s complicated”, he finally said, taking another mouthful of coke, trying to wash away the bitter feeling of having been cheated out of a normal life.
“It’s okay”, Stormy said, wrapping her fingers around his hand. “Really it is.”
“Tell me something about yourself?” Sam asked, looking into her sweet blue eyes that seemed to hide secret depths.
Stormy smiled a little, a blush colouring her cheeks. “There is not much to tell. I was born here in Mansion, I’ve lived here all my life. When I was twelve my uncle took me to Disneyland and I fell in love with Prince Charming and wanted to move into the pink castle. I’m just a small town girl.”
“What about your parents?” Sam asked.
Stormy looked away, shaking her head.
“Hey”, Sam said softly, gazing on the graceful curve of her neck, the delicate shell-like lines of her ear. “It’s okay”, he said mimicking her words.
She turned her head and met his brown eyes that seamed to hold so many more nuances than just brown; she could see the grey of storm clouds in them, the dark swell of a night time sea.
“Do you want to kiss me again?” She asked, looking shy all of a sudden, her fingers playing with the silver cross that hung around her neck on a dainty little chain.
“Yes” Sam said softly his hands already pulling her into his embrace. He felt in his heart they shared something of life’s cruel jokes as she tilted her face up to his. Her slender fingers slipping from the cross..
Taking her mouth tenderly with his, she opened up like a sweet flower taking him in as her own tongue vied his for desire.
His hands slid along her ribs, long fingers kneading them as he tightened his hold on her pulling her onto his lap. “Is this alright?” He whispered against her lips, her eyes drowning pools of color warmed with pleasure.
“Yes”, she murmured, her fingers finding thick soft curls at his neck, entwining them and tugging softly.
Sam bit back a moan as heat filled him to the core, his fingers sliding across her stomach moving up to the pert line of her breasts. Slipping over the soft material of her dress, teasing them until he felt her back arch.
Stormy felt his rising desire against the tight fabric of his jeans pressing against her, she found herself wiggling across his lap, driving another stifled moan from his lips. It felt obvious he was by no means… small.
Sam felt her heart pounding like a caged bird against his hand. “H-Have you ever done this before, Stormy?” He asked softly against the delicate counch of her ear. He wasn’t sure were this was leading, but he felt such urgent need, such desire to delve into her warm sweet body…something he had not done since his girlfriend died that horrible death in their room back at College.
“No…” She whispered. Her fingers came up to touch the cross again. “I’m Catholic.”
“I see”, Sam breathed.
“I’m sorry if I disappoint you”, the girl whispered. Sam had to smile at this.
“Disappoint me? That’s silly, Stormy.” He bent down planting a kiss on her forehead. “There is other things we could do without going there…” He emphasised his word by gently grinding their bodies together. “If you want to.”
Instead of saying anything she claimed his mouth, eyes closed and arms wrapping themselves around his neck. Her tongue darted out to explore, to play.
Soon they were both moaning softly, gasping with pleasure as fingers travelled over silken skin, taught muscles and soft curves.