all you have is your fire [ reid + sam ]

[technophobics]

 

and the place you need to reach/ don't you ever tame your demons/ but always keep 'em on a leash

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[fullride]

The novelty of addressing people by their last names wore off for Sam when he was still in college. It was something someone did just to spout disinterest or disdain, neither of which Sam felt he owed Spencer. Not before he stitched him up, but certainly not after. The whole evening had been a bonding experience, and if Spencer woke up tomorrow and decided it would be simpler to arrest given the state of his life Sam would go along with it willingly.

"Okay, sure," Sam says with some resignation. He's too tired to sleep, so eating feels like a chore, but he endures the idea the same way that he would if it were Dean suggesting it. Old habits die hard."Do any of the places off Larb or Tom Kha Gai?"

Whatever reconnaissance Spencer and his team at the BAU had done, it would have heralded a lot of greasy takeout, and a penchant for smutty magazines, and classic rock. All Dean's genre of expertise. Sam was the more astute of the two, the more interested in vegetables and healthier options and the more aware of cultures other than his own. Back during simpler times, Dean would call him the 'geek boy sidekick,' and despite what he'd been through he hadn't yet bothered to let go of those little things.

"And we killed the whole nest."

Sam pulls what was left of his shirt after the stitch job from Spencer and tosses it and the bled-through undershirt into a bag to be torched later. He puts some gauze over the wound now that it's had time to breathe, not quite trusting enough of the scratchy bed sheets and dimestore pillows not to cover his basis. He puts some Tegaderm on over the gauze bandage and drags a weary hand through his hair as he does his mandatory sweep of the room for hex bags and bugs. It doesn't take him long, and when he's done he slips his handgun under his pillow and a blade under the mattress just in case.

"If there's more they're not in the state and are part of a bigger network who wouldn't come after you because of what you do. They won't be able to find me, and even if they do most won't bother with following through. No fledglings made it out thanks to you, so, we're in the clear."

[technophobics]

That relatively short answer offers a wealth of information about how vampires operate. They're apparently pack animals who gather in nests, there's relatively few nests per state, and they might be cowards on their own. That's... reassuring, actually.

"Okay. So we're not going to have some stray vampires bent on revenge following us. Good," he says, relieved. "They really wouldn't come after me just because I'm FBI?"

That seems a little too good to be true, actually. Or maybe vampires are smart, and wouldn't go after someone whose job it is to track down criminals across state lines.

"That's strange, actually, because law enforcement are the victims of crime at about the same rate as non-law enforcement," he rattles off, still looking for a decent Thai place on his phone. "Home burglaries occur at roughly the same rate, as does assault. The rates obviously go down if a police officer is in uniform, but in plain clothes all bets are off the table, apparently. In fact, if someone was looking to steal a gun, law enforcement would be more of a target."

Spencer breaks off, thoughtful.

"So I guess it's a good thing vampires probably don't need guns."

[fullride]

It's not always the case, but more often than not most nests won't bite off more than they can chew. That includes when dealing with law enforcement and turning too many heads, or being under too much scrutiny. A good nest operates without turning too many heads or making so much as the local paper.

"It's about keeping a low profile." Whether or not the statistics follow it on a normal basis didn't apply here. Sam knew the way it all worked and for a species that had supposedly died out in the rumor mill decades ago, they'd managed to elude both hunters and the local feds long enough to get their numbers back up after that particular gossip made it through the grapevine.

"They don't, but there's nothing to say that they don't carry weapons. They might be stronger and faster than us, but they're still susceptible. Dead man's blood, sunlight, and if you can manage there are other ways if you're handy with making your bullets or setting traps like trip wire."

[technophobics]

"Dead man's blood?" Spencer repeats, a little incredulous, before he seems to realize that everything he's learning is equal amounts of ridiculous and dead man's blood is no more or less weird than the rest. "That's-- hmm, I've never heard of that as a vampire deterrent. Garlic, sunlight, crosses, yes, but never dead blood. I've never exactly been a horror movie buff, though."

Interesting. Scientifically, how does that even work? Does it weaken the vampires by way of flooding their veins with dead blood, the opposite of what they need to sustain themselves?

It does make sense that vampires would want to keep a low profile, though. Staying out of the way of law enforcement is reasonable. If the world was alerted to the fact that vampires existed, well. Spencer can't predict exactly what would happen, but America does love an excuse to throw its military around.

"How long have you known all of this?" he winds up asking. A little exasperated, a little frustrated. Mostly curious. "I mean-- I sort of already know the answer. Your dad has a list of similar crimes almost as long as yours, so I can only assume that your dad was a hunter too. Did he teach you all of this as a kid?"

[fullride]

"Yeah, it's - it works backward in their system. It acts like a poison and slows them down to full paralysis. It doesn't kill them. Only beheading does that."

It is miserable for them, though, and based on what Sam's seen them do to good people and children, he's not above using it if it's a necessary measure. "Well, the garlic and the crosses will just get you laughed at." All stipulations, not real, not worth the time.

Sam rubs an eye and hides a yawn in his palm. His shoulder ached, and the rest of the liquor they'd used to clean his wound was looking tempting as a replacement for Nyquil or something to knock him out for the night.

"My dad and my brother tried to keep me normal, or at least as normal as possible. I went to school... I made good grades, but I was in middle school when I figured it all out and by that point, there was no hiding it anymore, so I was taught to hold my own. Just in case. The days of watching Lion-O on TV and doing the Daily Crossword at the hotel when I got bored became a thing of the past."

That doesn't detail why or who they got brought up in it but that was a story for another time maybe. Reid was smart enough to put two and two together. The incident with his mother, and then with Jess. Sam felt like a man cursed without speaking on the truly tragic loss of the people he loved. People like Amelia, who he realized now with this new injury and Dean gone was better off without him.