An Unholy Union

They’d already been to two gambling halls, the slave market and a couple of bars. Many of the faces had changed, but the bar tenders always knew which way to point you if you had questions. Sometimes it took an iron fist in their face, but it worked. More often than not, they were referred to Veronika, just like she’d predicted.

As they headed down a dark hall, Spike was puffing on his cigarette when he saw a human woman sitting on the ground, paler than himself. Six straws were attached to her body and the vampires around her were sucking her dry, laughing, and making fun. Right… reminded him of his good old days when that little thing called guilt wasn’t in the equation.

Trying to distract Dean, he put his arm around his waist and kissed him on the mouth… like Dean was his possession, same as all the other vampires did to their human toys.

It was too late. Dean’s anger spiked at the sight of the outnumbered girl who was too weak to fight and, even if she wanted this, shouldn’t. He had been taught all his life, save lives. As many as you can. Do the right thing. Do what you have to. Don't stand by and let people endure. Those things were ingrained into Dean since he was a kid. No longer a son but a solider. A tool in his father's fight. And not even Spike's kisses were distracting him from that mission. "I can't let this go," he whispered with anger giving an edge to his as he tried to detangle from Spike. "I can't let her die." And neither could his brother. Sam would hate him if he didn't do something.

Dean managed to pull away from Spike and turned on the vampires. "I think you piss-offs had enough." He snarled as he kicked one in the teeth.

Spike cursed and followed him, grabbing his vest and trying to pull him back. “He didn’t mean that. Just not happy he’s on tomorrow’s menu, yeah?” He gave the vampires an easy smile.

Several of them shifted into game face and were snarling as they approached.

“Don’t think they’re amused,” he told Dean. “Six of them, and two of us… I see now why the other brother is the smart one.” As he joked, he positioned himself. They weren’t getting out of this without a fight.

Dean placed his back to Spike then reached behind him, feeling for the Colt and pulling it out. "Yeah well, he may be the smart one but I'm the brawn." Dean whipped around and kicked one vampire between the legs then slammed his face into his knee before whipping around and firing at one over Spike's shoulder.

“Watch where you aim that thing, I’d rather keep my bits.” Spike sounded as if he was speaking about the weather, even as he exploded into action, grabbing two vampires and knocking their heads together. “Hmmm, they don’t seem happy.” It was an understatement. Spike took a punch to his stomach, but stopped the second one cold with his bare hands. Smirking, he twisted the vamp’s arm behind its back, breaking it, then kicked it in the arse, sending it hurtling toward Dean.

The vampire Dean shot, sparked with a red glow then jerked before he fell to the ground. Dead. Dusted. Dean grabbed the one coming at him and rammed his head into the wall by the shear momentum of his movements. "I wouldn't call them bits, sunshine," Dean slugged one of the vampires before he was struck, sent flying backwards.

“Big bits, then. Did you call me a pet name? Who’s the bloody vampire here?” Rhythmically moving his upper body left and right to dodge the blows of the vamp he was dealing with, Spike waited for his opening, and kicked its knees out from under him. “Fuck… this one’s a bit like old gum…” he kicked the hands that were trying to twist his leg and bring him down.

Dean lifted his leg in time to kick the bastard coming at him, and then fired at the one gripping Spike's leg, killing it. "Well feel lucky he won't be stuck under your shoe." Dean glared at the others then quickly fired, not leaving a one standing.

He wiped the blood from his mouth then went over to the girl, checking on her. "It's okay," he spoke softly as he pulled the straws from her. "We need to get her someplace safe."

Spike walked through the vampire dust, and twisted the gun out of Dean’s hand. In case there were questions, he wanted to make sure it was clear that the weapon was his and not the human’s. Not that he was overly worried. Killing each other in the Haven was not against any rules, but it might buy you enemies. It was only the end game... the escape ...that would rain the wrath of those who ran Dark Haven on them, but it was no use thinking about that now.

Allowing the boy another minute to take the last straw out, Spike gripped Dean’s shoulder and started to steer him away. She was a lost cause, and this had been a waste of time.

The rebellion in those green eyes always got to him. He gave a warning shake of his head. “Too late for her. Even if you save her, she’ll never be right.” He touched his temple. “Won’t get her life back. Best you let her go.” He’d heard her heart stall out, and knew that her brain had to be damaged. “Said you trusted me.”

Dean still crouched by the girl, brushing her hair back. He said a silent pray for her. He hated to leave her like this. Hated that he could not put her soul to rest as he should. Even if she didn't haunt him paranormally, she was gonna haunt his dreams as one of the ones he couldn't save. Slowly Dean pushed up, "I may have to let her go but doesn't mean I have to like it." He spoke as he started walking away.

"Now wait just a moment." Spike easily caught up to Dean and wrapped his fingers like a vice around his upper arm as they continued their fast paced march along the tunnels. "You don't have to like it, no argument there. But before I brought you in here, made it clear you won't like what you see. Lots of misery, lots of death... and that you cannot do anything about it. What you did back there... foolish. If we hadn’t gotten away with it, you would be kissing your precious brother goodbye. Think about that the next time you try something like this." He clammed up as they passed a group with inquisitive eyes, then continued when they were quite a distance. "Pull something like that again, and I will get you out of here myself."
Dean looked down at his arm then at Spike, "Fine. Let's find my brother and get the hell out of here." He drew in several breaths to calm himself down. This was not gonna be a good night, day, whatever it was. He just needed to locate his brother, get him out and things would go back to how they were.

* * *

Sam flew across the arena, smacking his back against the stone. He was already beaten, bruised and bloodied... fresh blood was covering dried blood. As the creatur attacked him, Sam pushed up and punched it over and over again till he got to the knife he had dropped. He dived for it, rolling and when he came around he slashed into the air, cutting the creature’s it's throat. Blood splattered him and he rolled before the body could fall on him.

He heard cheers as he got up and it made him sick. "Find me, Dean," he whispered as he looked around at the audience seated in the dark shadows around the arena.


* * *

The night went downhill from there. And up. There were those good times when they questioned people and worked really well together... threatening, cajoling, fighting, teasing, lying... anything to get some information. They did get a few names of vampires with new 'catches' that might fit Sam's description, but nothing concrete.

Dean had always been the impatient one. Sam was the calm one and usually kept his brother that way but now he was missing. Answers were coming but not the ones Dean wanted to hear. A direct one. The location of his brother. The cat and mouse games were picking at his nerves.

Spike could see impatience and annoyance bubbling right under Dean's skin and kept a close watch on him to make sure he didn't explode or fuck things up. At one such moment, he leaned over and kissed his temple, whispering a reminder in his ear. "Supposed to be playing meek pet, not a crusader, yeah?"


Dean jumped a bit when Spike leaned in, his words trickling into Dean’s ear. "Yeah, yeah, I know," was Dean's response as he stared at his drink. It was clear Dean was tired. However another thing was clear - he would not quit till he found his brother. "So what is next?" Dean asked, low, soft, turning his head to Spike.

Spike hesitated for a minute, then said what had to be. "We start to hit the whore houses."

Dean twisted his head more to look at Spike with this 'really' look upon his face. He then downed his drink. "I have a feeling I'm not gonna like this am I." He pushed up from his stool and followed Spike out. Twists and turns were taken before Spike had him walking into a door. Inside, Dean was immediately hit by the scent of blood and sex. He felt his stomach turn, hating to think Sam could be here. "Question, you have a reason to come in here and tow me along?" Cause he figured, why would a vampire with a sex slave show up at a place like this.

"Come on pretty boy, don't tell me you've never heard of a threesome." In response to the incredulous expression on Dean's face, Spike barked out a laugh. "Don't forget, I did tell Veronika I like to watch Sam fuck you. Didn’t really think I’d stand there and not participate, did you?" He was baiting him, yeah. But he couldn't help himself. It might also distract Dean from some of the sounds. Places like this didn't always operate on principles of voluntariness. He hoped they wouldn't find Sam here, he really did, but he didn't want to leave any stone unturned either.

* * *

Sam was shoved into his cage. A woman walked up to it. "You did well, Sammy. I'm proud of you."

"Fuck off, bitch," Sam spoke from his corner. He ached. He was cut. Sweat stung his wounds, blood was dried and pulling at his skin. Dirt stuck to him. Sam hated this place.

"Oh, don't be that way, Sammy," she tipped her head to him with a tsking smirk.

"It's Sam, only my brother gets to call me that."

"Well you are the one in the cage." she paced about, fingers playing along the bars, "See, some of us know about you Sam Winchester. The anti-christ boy king. Leader of the Demons." She gave a laugh. "I can see why they like you. Good looks, puppy dog eyes."

"Why did you bring me here?"

"See what all the hype was about. See if all the tales were true."

"Living up to your expectations?" Sam growled.

"Oh, more. Your daddy trained you well." She smirked.

"Well now you know, you can let me go."

"No, Sammy. You see, there are demons in some of us as well. We don't like being lead either. Besides, you are much to entertaining."

"And if I refuse to fight any more?"

"You really don't have a choice. Cause if you don't, every fighter in here, will have a nice turn at you, while we go hunt your brother down and, well I'll let your imagination run." She turned and started walking away.


* * *

Dean clenched his jaw. He was watching as Spike worked the room. He was going about, whispering in ears, letting his body be felt up and for some reason, Dean's chest was tight. Jealously? Anger that he had to wait to find his brother or perhaps both? Whichever it was, Dean swore his teeth were gonna crack.

Worst of it all, he could only sit there and wait like a puppy. A good little puppy.

Spike felt the weight of Dean's stare, but there wasn't a bloody thing he could do for him. The boy would have to learn patience, no other way to go about this. He needed to find out whether Sam was here, or at any of the other whore houses, fuck houses or glory holes. The only way to do that was to talk with both the patrons, who most likely went hopping from one fuck house to the next, and those who ran the operations, since they often shared their "artists."

Artists his arse. The hookers were all scared, he could smell it. There were no rules here. If you paid enough, you could kill, and come back the next day for another victim. Some vampires didn't like to go out and hunt anymore. They just gave their specifications, and others did the hunting for them.

He felt a strong pair of hands on his waist and turned his head. "Peter. Fancy meeting you here." Twisting around, he hugged the tall, dark haired vampire, and wasn't a bit surprised by the sudden kiss.

"God I've missed you. You're sight for sore eyes... Come here."

This time, a bit more reluctantly, Spike allowed himself to be pulled into Peter's embrace. Instantly, strong arms closed around him, and a firm mouth clamped over his. The kiss was long, and hard, but all Spike could think about was the anger rolling from Dean... all he could hope was that the hunter would sit tight for just a bit longer. Then Peter's hands were on his arse, massaging, then moving between their bodies. That was when Spike put his palm on Peter's chest and stepped away. "You've made your point. Glad to see you're fine, more ways than one, yeah?"

"Stop playing hard to get, you bastard."

Spike laughed. "I'm in the mood for something... specific. Something in tall, dark and lean... much taller than you. Sweet innocent face and maybe a bit of a tendency to argue."

Peter nodded toward a tall human holding a glass of wine, his hand shaking. "I'll share him with you. Just like old times."

Spike turned. "Taller. Answers to Sam. Sammy."

Dean watched the interaction between the vampires and it took all of his energy to keep from coming off the stool and pulling the two apart, especially when the one started to grope at Spike's ass and front. Instead Dean looked away, which in a place like this, got him no better view. Looking down, he decided to fiddle with his ring. Twisting it around his finger and trying to keep his mind off what was gonna happen.

Of course, his teeth ground when he heard Sam's name, especially Sammy. Only he was allowed to call his brother that. God, give him strength not to go and tear these bastards apart. Or at least to keep from reaching at Spike's back for the Colt and taking all those bastards down.

"Sammy... how old fashioned," Peter jeered. "I don't think an artist would be caught with that name, they're all... Candy, Syn, or Baby. Some should really be called carpet."

That understatement got a laugh out of Spike. "And why is it you're looking for a carpet to lay on?" He raised a brow. "Used to be a time when you liked them lively."

"Tastes change. Grow. Since when do you keep humans?" Peter nodded toward Dean, knowing Spike usually hung out with Vampires or at least didn't bother with human pets.

"Tastes change," Spike echoed. "I'd best be moving along then. This hunger...."

Peter nodded. "Oh, you know.... could be nothing but.."

"But?" Bloody vampire, that's how he'd always been, giving information out in bleedin' dribbles. Spike tried to appear relaxed and patient.

"In the fighting arena tonight, there was a tall kid. Did pretty good. They called him 'Sam the Spawn.' Tall, pretty damned fuckable but he made them too much money for them to loan him out to the whorehouses. If that's the guy."

"Eh, he wouldn't survive one fight," Spike shrugged. "Might check it out though." It never paid to let anyone know how badly you wanted something.

"If you get him, be sure to grab me. We can do him until he's senseless."

"Mmm." Leaning in, Spike kissed him lightly. "I'll keep that thought in mind."

A moment later, he had his hand on Dean's and was dragging him out of the whorehouse. "You alright?

Dean swore, at that moment, THAT was THEE most STUPIDEST question in the world. He flashed glaring green eyes at Spike but kept his mouth shut. It was taking all his last remaining effort to prevent himself from just taking his aggravation and anger out on the nearest person, which happen to be Spike. Funny how he was part of the cause.

"So you find out anything?" The words were strained in an attempt to keep the anger out. Even his fists balled but were forced to relax. "Tell me you found something out and that all wasn't a waste of time." Time Dean didn't think he had.

Spike reined in the temptation to tease. "Maybe." He put an arm around Dean's waist, holding him firmly in order to prevent any sudden half thought-out actions. "Told me there's a new fighter in the pit called Sam the Spawn. Tall and... fuckable." Right, maybe he did tease, just a bit.

Dean's eyes shifted to the side, giving Spike a warning look that he was pushing him too much. WAY too much. "Then let's go check it out. If it's him, let's get him and get the fuck out of here." Dean had about enough of this place. Especially since he couldn't kill half these bastards who really deserved it. "And don't tell me we have to wait." That was also a warning.

"Wait, no. Calm down... yes. If you get us killed here, there'll be no saving your brother." He didn't think he had to say more, not when the word 'brother' seemed to have magical properties, he thought, a bit sourly. "Pits are this way."

"Calm down," Dean muttered under his breath with a roll of his eyes. Dean drew a deep breath, reminding himself, this was all for Sam. He’d promised his little brother and his father that he’d take care of him. Do whatever it took. Give up whatever he had to in order to keep Sam safe. This was small compared to trading his soul. If he could do that, he could do this. But goddamnit it was hard.

He walked down the stairs toward the pit, scanning his eyes around as he looked for signs of Sam. The temptation to call out was there but Dean was biting his tongue. And damn, Spike wasn't moving fast enough for Dean either.

There was a strong stench of blood, pain and burned flesh. The arena was empty and Spike found out the next round of events would begin in three hours. Of course eager-hunter-boy was already headed to the area underneath the pit, where the fighters were kept. Catching up, he gave Dean a warning glance, and started past the guards.

"We're closed now," one of the guards said.

"We'll just have a quick look, then. Need to know who to put my blunt on, yeah?" He cocked his head. "Come on, mate, you don't want to end up like the dead fighters." When the man didn't budge, Spike slammed him up against the wall. There was a fierce, but short struggle... ended up with the guard pushed up against the wall, bleeding badly from the nose. "Right... we'll have a quick look, then,." Sneering, he released the bloke and nodded for Dean to walk inside.

The tunnels here were narrow, the lighting bad. The walls on both sides were lined with prison bars, behind which the fighters sat, or stood, or exercised... sweated and bled, cried or growled in frustration. Spike kept his eyes on the fighters on one side, while Dean searched the other. When Spike heard some footfalls coming their way, he dragged Dean up against him. "Sorry, luv, not quite the place for a date but..." Then his mouth was moving over Dean's as if they had all the time in the world.
Dean had been peering into the dark. His heart was beating fast with hope, wanting to see his brother. And yet not wanting to. Hoping he was elsewhere and not dead. Suddenly Dean's back was against the bars and all he heard was 'luv' and 'date' before his mouth was covered. Dean instantly responded, parting his lips, kissing Spike back. Damn, he felt like his knees would give.

He rested his hand on Spike's hips, squeezing before pulling him closer. When he heard someone pass, he was finally able to pull his mouth away to look and see if it was clear to move on. But his skin was flushed, his lips swollen from kissing. His body heat had risen as well as his heartbeat. Dean should hate himself for reacting this way when he should be finding his brother, but this was Spike. And then they were moving again, "That was some kissing. Good act." Dean glanced over to him, wondering if it really was act.

Spike locked gazes with him. “Bollocks.”

"What?" Dean stopped a moment. "Can we talk English here?"

“Far as I know, that was English. We started the language, yeah?” He cocked his head, “You’re the only actor here. I take the direct approach.” Should be obvious enough, even to the apparently dense hunter.

"Yeah, well, we made the language better," Dean mumbled. "Let's just find, Sam." He started walking, moving down cell by cell feeling torn and confused. He hadn’t felt this way with anyone except with his father or Cassie. And Cassie he thought he loved.

Spike shook his head. Whole world would fall apart if the hunter admitted he liked it. Only times you got him to admit to that or to needing anything was during sex, or maybe when he wanted help with little brother.

More stench. More misery. More threats of being thrown out of where they didn’t belong. Spike had to part with some of his hard earned money, that he’d stolen from Dean, who’d stolen from someone else. One thing was clear at the end of his conversation with the barrel chested demon that he’d bribed, the place would be in lock-down soon. They had to rush.

If he weren’t afraid Dean would be taken for use as a fighter, he would have suggested they split up. Even with the colt Dean trusted so much, Spike didn’t want to take chances. Outnumbered was outnumbered.

Again, there were sounds of boots heading their way. Spike could tell it was the guy he’d bribed, but it was best that he continued to think they were here to fuck as they watched the fighters. Without any notice to Dean, he slid his hand around his waist, pressing his palm into his stomach, and leaned in so his cock jammed up against his arse. “Turn. Kiss me,” he ordered, his cock coming to attention at the speed with which Dean leaned back, rested his head on Spike’s shoulder and gave him access to his mouth.

Dean felt cold bars against his chest. His hands grabbed at them as he pressed back. His body was responding all too eagerly. He hated and loved it all at the same time. Someone was coming, this time he heard the heavy boots. But Spike’s actions were just too quick. Dean turned his head, parting his lips as his mouth closed in against Spike's. He gave as good as he got, making it look really good.

In the cell, Sam lifted his green eyes and they shot open wide as he saw the tattoo first, then recognized his brother. His eyes quickly darted to the passing guard but he wanted to launch up and get to his brother. But his brother was kissing another man. Another MAN! His stomach turned.

(A/N - comments? Like/don't like? Tell us or um, you know, shout at us :;grins::)