This is a three-parter, already completed. Here's hoping you remember the episode "Dead Man's Blood" reasonably well. :) Enjoy!

I didn't hear them until it was too late. Dean says I shouldn't blame myself. He gives me that look, and threatens to beat the crap out of me if I don't stop moping around. He tells me that there was no way of knowing, that it came out of nowhere, that I couldn't have stopped them on my own even if I had known. Anything he thinks will help. He's a good brother, he really is.

Which just makes it all the worse.

I know he's right, but that doesn't make what happened any better. I was awake, keeping watch. We weren't expecting anything, not really, but we'd just done a good ol' fashioned salt-and-burn in the local cemetery, and we'd heard sirens going off, responding to an alleged grave desecration. We left no trail, of course, but we took turns sitting up anyway, just in case someone figured it out. Henrickson was definitely still looking. We couldn't take any chances when it came to the law. I was just on the laptop, scanning Wikipedia, filling my head with trivia when I heard the footsteps, already outside out door. I had my knife, but my gun was still tucked under my bed. I opened my mouth to warn Dean, but they were already breaking down the door.

I recognized her immediately. It was the nose. Turned up at the end, distinctive. Kate, the matriarch of the vampire nest we'd helped depopulate. The few family members we'd left to her swarmed into the room. I saw three of them grab for Dean. He decapitated two, producing a knife out of thin air. I turned my attention back to the she-vamp sauntering her way to me, flanked by two new vampires I hadn't seen before. New toys. Big ones, shaved heads, biker boots, leather chaps…the whole deal. I backed away until my back hit the wall. Dean noticed and gritted his teeth. Kate smiled at me. "Mornin', Sam. I thought we might meet up again." She tapped the side of her nose playfully. "Scent for life, you know."

I responded by smiling as Dean hacked the head off the last of his attackers. He started toward me, but didn't get far. The window to my left shattered, and fangs poured in. One moment, only the last members of Kate's nest; the next, an entire army. Now there were seven on my brother, dragging him out, away from me, into the parking lot, prying the knife from his fingers and flinging it out of his reach. I screamed and launched myself forward.

I killed three before they got me, too. The two gigantic bikers swung their ham-like fists at my face and stomach, brought me down to my knees seeing black. I struggled to my feet, but my lapse had cost me. I was surrounded now, vamps clawing at my arms, leaving bloody trails where their fingernails had been. They pulled me down onto the floor, nipping at me, leaving small prickles of blood all across my neck and my chest and my arms. They lapped it up, laughing, not feeding, only playing. They were toying with me, enjoying it. I wondered if they were doing the same to Dean. I went still, let them play their game, listening for the tell-tale sounds of a fight, hoping Dean would break away. I never heard anything.

Kate was straddling my chest, lapping at the blood on my forehead when another fang came in. "He's down." He said, and bared bloody fangs. My brother's blood. Adrenaline surged. I broke an arm free and clobbered the side of Kate's face with all the strength I could muster. She flew off me, landing sprawled on the floor. One of her family put her fangs to my jugular, waiting to Kate to give the order in retribution. The matriarch wiped her mouth of my blood and stared at me.

"What's the matter, Winchester? Scared? I'll be real gentle with him, I promise." Her eyes were wide with mock innocence, then hardened with malicious glee. "I'll suck him dry, but I'll be humane about it."

"If you so much as leave a bruise--" I began, but the female vamp hovering above my jugular clamped down, teasing, not breaking skin, but the threat was clear. I channeled my anger into my gaze. Kate's smile faltered. For one second, she knew she was in dangerous waters. And she was. If I had been free, I would have crushed her skull in with my bare hands. Her grin steadied.

"Catch you later, Winchester." She blew a kiss at me, baring her fangs at her family. "Don't take too much. Save him for later." There were throaty laughs all around, and the vamps around me continued their game. I fought them, clawing at their faces, inflicting damage wherever I could, but none of it was enough. One of the hulking males bent over me, and I saw what I needed. The huge hunting knife attached to his hip. I went limp, feigning unconciousness. The vamps laughed, but backed away a little.

"I say we join in on the other one." The biker-vamp said, his voice wet, vocal chords dampened by my blood. He didn't finish the thought. I shot up, ripping the weapon from its sheath and swung. It took two swings to remove his head, but the deed was done. The rest of the vamps were evidently new to the nest. They looked at their fallen comrade and backed away, hissing at me. They'd obviously never seen any of their kind die before, and likely figured that I was one tough blood-sack to do it. Better to risk Kate's wrath than mine. That was fine with me. I backed out of the room. The vamps were down at the end of the row of cars. I broke into a run. "Dean!" I cried. I got a sick sense of satisfaction watching Kate's face as she looked up. The abject surprise was sweet as candy. I was already too close for her to run. I killed the first fang that came my way, then reached out and snatched Kate by the hair. She screamed as I brandished my weapon at her throat. "Stay back!" The fangs halted. I could see Dean behind them, on the ground, but moving. He was trying to lift himself up on his elbow. He met my gaze and nodded. Okay, I'm okay. I bent my head to whisper in her ear, trying to remember every evil creature I'd ever encountered, worked their malice into my own voice. "You ever come looking for us again? I won't kill you." I fet her jerk in surprise. I lowered my voice to a husky whisper and traced a pattern on her neck with my knife. "I'll starve you. I'll watch while you beg and plead for me to end it, but I never will. I'll let you suffer until there's only an empty body left. Got it?"

I felt her head move up and down, frantic. I let her go, kicked her away from me. "Get out."

Kate signaled, never taking her eyes off me. Her posse looked as though they wanted to kill me then and there, but they followed her. It was surprising. I had expected to have to fight my way to Dean. They were giving up sort of…quickly. Guess I was scarier than I thought. They disappeared into the darkness. I watched them until they were out of sight, then stuffed the knife in my waistband and dropped next to Dean.

"You okay?" He was sitting up now. I could see blood on him, but it didn't look severe. He was shaking, though, so I offered him my hand and helped him to his feet. He was a little unsteady, but straightened up quickly.

"Let's get out of here." I didn't have any objection. We started back to the hotel room. I kept my hand out, in case Dean needed it as we packed and loaded the Impala. I was feeling a little light-headed, and Dean had lost more blood than me. I was just pouring myself into the drivers seat (no way I was letting Dean drive) when I heard him chuckle under his breath.

'What?"

"You. That was pretty awesome, Rambo."

I smiled back and shut the door.

After Kate's attack we holed up in Indiana, three hundred miles away in the smallest motel in the smallest town we could find. Cases were slow. Apparently, Weirdo-ville was keeping its head down this week. The only thing left to do was keep our eyes open and the newspapers coming. I was scanning the back page of the latest one when I noticed. Dean, on the bed, combing over a few leads of his own, kept raising his hand to massage his pale temples. He'd been quiet, not really eating, and now I knew why. Dean was sick, which meant that it was time to do battle. To be honest, I'd rather face Kate and her brood again armed with only a Dixie cup and some string. At least then I had a decent chance of survival.

I kept my eyes down and casually asked, "How are you doing, Dean?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"Just wondering. Lost a lot of blood back there."

"Yeah, I guess."

I risked another look and met his eyes. I smiled apologetically as he glared at me. "You just look a little tired, that's all."

"Well I'm not. You got anything?"

"Not yet." A pause. "You sure you don't need an aspirin or something?"

He dropped the newspaper he was holding and threw up his hands in defeat. "Is there something you'd like to say, Sam?"

"Just…" My mind flew. With Dean, there were multiple angles to play, and some worked better at times than others. There was the anger angle, the stoic angle, the bossy angle, the begging angle, etc., etc., each designed to coax my brother into doing what I needed him to do. Manipulation? I was not above it. But I knew which angle would work best this time, this close after a crisis. I shrank in my chair and opened my eyes wide, bending my head so I was looking up at my brother and said, "I was scared, Dean. For you. When they dragged you off and I was still inside…I didn't know if you were even alive." It was true. Every word. But played from the little brother angle, it was like magic. I watched Dean roll his eyes at me, but knew that he was softening. "I'm just worried, I guess. Sorry." I delivered the clincher and saw the slight sag of Dean's shoulders that signaled defeat.

"Stop saying that, Sam." He shook his head, as though disappointed in how easily he caved to me. "I guess an aspirin would be nice."

"So what's the matter?" I went for the bottle, digging through my duffle. I kept all medications. Dean was likely to try and take five or six of any given painkiller just to prove he was man enough.

"Just not on top of my game."

"Yeah? You want something more specialized?"

"Nah. Aspirin's fine." I counted out three and tossed them over one by one. Dean swallowed them down dry.

"You know," I began, concentrating on sounding nonchalant, "There's been some weird electrical shortages a couple counties over. It's probably nothing, but we could head over and check if out once it gets dark." There wasn't. I made it up. Means to an end, and all that.

"Fill me in." I did, and Dean sat back nodding. "Could be a poltergeist, since its just happening on that one block. Like that time in Denver."

"Yeah. Looks like we're going to have a late night. Maybe you should get some rest."

He shrugged off his jacket and pulled off his boots. "Guess so." Short answers. No sarcastic quips. Definitely sick. He slid under the covers. "You get some sleep too, alright?"

"Sure. Just let me finish up." There was silence, for a long time, only the occasional crinkle as I turned a page.

"Sam?" My brother's voice was thick with sleep. I looked over. He'd pulled the blankets away from his face and was looking at me, his eyes green slits between heavy lids.

"Yeah?"

"There is no poltergeist, is there."

"Nope." I smiled triumphantly.

He flipped me the bird and closed his eyes.

Dean slept throught he rest of the evening and I joined him at about midnight. He was out cold, relaxed to the extreme. Which was why it surprised me when he woke me up before dawn, shaking my shoulders, insistent.

"What?" I snapped.

"What'd you do with the aspirin?"

That woke me up. "Why, what's wrong?" I flicked on the lamp beside the bed and stifled a gasp. "Dean, what happened?" He was bleeding from the mouth. As I watched, a trickle of blood made its way down his chin. He wiped it away, looked at the blood on his fingers. He swore loudly and sat back onto the edge of his bed. "Here, lie down," I said, trying not to panic. Bleeding from the mouth was a sign of internal bleeding. A punctured lung, maybe? I cursed myself for missing it. How could I miss it? I should have checked, should have been more careful…

"I don't know. Been feeling off since the attack." He reclined back against his pillow. I snagged the first aid kit and sat at his side.

"Where's the pain coming from?"

"My mouth. It's--" He groaned and clamped his lips shut. I frowned. Mouth?

"Open. Let me see in there." He let the pain pass and opened wide. I looked for something, anything that would explain the pain. But there was nothing. Nothing but fresh spurts of blood every few seconds. "Dean, I can't see anything." Panic was beginning to color the edges of my vision. No hospitals, the law was still on our scent, and Bobby was hours away. Dean was bleeding enough he had to swallow a couple mouthfuls before I thought about it and got him a cup to spit it in.

He expelled a stream of red and looked up at me. "What is this, Sam?"

"Let me look again." This time, I snapped plastic gloves on, feeling, probing. I searched up and under his lip and felt something hard. Dean grunted as I touched it. Shrapnel, maybe? Something was up there. "I feel something. Hold on, okay?" I lifted his lip carefully and had to stifle a cry.

Fangs. A new tooth breaking the surface of Dean's gums every few seconds, spurting blood as they stabbed through the flesh. Already, there was a substantial row of shark-like teeth. Fangs.

My brother had been turned.

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