Perdition

There is supernatural activity going off the chart around the US. Dean heads to Deadwood to track where it’s coming from but he meets Sam Campbell. Will he discover that Sam is running it all?

Notes:

So, I never got around to finishing this up last summer. Just re-posting those old chapters while I sort it out. Xx

Chapter 1: Chapter One

Summary:

Dean is undercover in Deadwood, a small town in the middle of nowhere, as he tries to uncover the source of a giant supernatural operation.

Chapter Text

If you bring forth what is within you,
What you bring forth will save you.

If you do not bring forth what is within you,
What you do not bring forth will destroy you.
-Jesus Christ (Gospel of Thomas)

This was humiliating. The great Dean Winchester, hunter extraordinaire, on his hands and knees on some wealthy man's kitchen floor. The bright yellow rubber gloves were barely stopping the burning heat of the slopping, soapy water and did nothing for his ego. He dropped the scrubbing tool and it hit the pale tile with a clatter.

Leaning back on his hunches, his verdant eyes scanned the overly large kitchen in disapproval. Who needed a kitchen this size anyway? A single man too! He didn't have children or a family around that he needed to cook for. In the hunter's humble opinion, his employer had a lavished lifestyle that was really unnecessary. Dean lived his life in motels day and night and his life was fine so all this was in this house was simply showing off, in his opinion anyway.

He really shouldn't complain though; Mr Campbell had been more then willing to employ Dean almost immediately after he began searching for a temporary job. It may not have been natural for the hunter but, while staying in town for a few months to crack a large case, he needed a steady source of income to cover the costs. He couldn't exactly go out hustling if he'd be sticking around for months. Besides, having a regular job allowed for him to mingle more and be perceived as one of the locals. Nobody would look for a hunter on some rich man’s marbled floor.

The floor, despite having a generous amount of water pooling on top, was now somewhat clean and the hunter really couldn't take much more. Fuck this, it wasn’t even dirty to start with. I’ve slept on floors twice as gross as this.

"Dean!" The hunter looked up at the excited call of his name. A pretty blonde woman stood in her full black uniform in the doorway of the kitchen. She had a chattery nervous energy about her.

It was his second day on the job so Jessica continued to pop in on him every now and again to check everything was okay. She was also working for the elusive Mr Campbell but she had been working in his home for several years already. She'd told him much about working here while doing the brief tour of the ground floor, where Dean would be cleaning. She got to do her work on the first floor where the hunter assumed Campbell was hidden away. Probably too senile to drag his old wrinkled ass out of bed, Dean had thought several times in the last 24 hours.

"Everything okay?" She smiled, her eyes twinkling. Dean never thought he'd ever meet someone with such a passion for housekeeping... With such a passion for anything.

He remembered how he was just knelt on the black and white tiles with his scrubbing brush discarded. He collected it and the bucket before standing up quickly, despite how his knees protested. It probably seemed as though he'd abandoned his work to daydream instead.

"Yeah, it's great." He replied, unable to mimic her enthusiasm, "Umm, I hate to ask but... When do I get to meet Mr Campbell?"

In the last day and a half of his employment, he'd not seen the man once, not even in passing. Surely the man came home sometimes? Nobody could work so hard. Dean swiftly reminded himself that hunting was in fact his real job so yes, some people really could work that hard. Maybe Campbell had long days? It was even a possibility that this wasn't his primary home.

She seemed to grown slightly grave and sighed, "He's actually upstairs..." Hesitant, Jess answered, "But he is very ill." Sorrow filled her eyes, it dimmed the characteristic sparkle. She clearly did feel for the old guy but she must understand that old age does bad things to a person.

Yesterday, while running the vacuum cleaner over the plush rug in the reception area, Dean had seen Jessica lead two different men upstairs but, at the time, he'd thought nothing of it. He merely assumed they were handy men of sorts. The idea of them being medical professionals seemed more likely now or attorneys sorting the last will and testament.

"Oh, I'm sorry." He had no idea why he apologized, they were not related or anything but they seemed oddly close. Perhaps there was something more? Dean liked to speculate. At the thought, a shiver fell down his spine; the thought of a young, attractive woman going down on some old, wrinkly dude just didn't sit right with him.

"No, don't worry. He'll be right as rain in a week or so. Just needs time to recover." She smiled. She seemed to take hold of her emotions before she glanced up at the clock hung high on the wall, "Hungry?"

He'd started feeling the hunger pangs earlier this morning as his tight budget didn't spare room for diner breakfasts anymore. He really was down to the last few dollars which is why he was here in the first place. He nodded, truthfully. He'd already decided that he liked this woman and, despite his better judgement, was already beginning to trust her.

Her smile seemed to grow at his confirmation. Turning, she opened the fridge and started pulling out elements of a sandwich. Something felt inherently wrong about going through your boss' fridge... even though it wasn't technically him doing the searching and he hadn't even met the old guy.

"Don't worry. Mr Campbell doesn't mind us having lunch." She reassured as though sensing his uncertainty. I guess she was once in my position too: new and uncomfortable.

Within minutes Jessica had two exquisite sandwiches prepared for them to devour. Thick bread, thick meat and light in the rabbit food department, it was practically perfect in his eyes. She seemed happy with his satisfaction.

She picked lightly at her food with a clearly lighter appetite. Despite being tall for a woman, she was slim.

Jessica seemed more entertained with the idea of conversation rather than food, "So, Dean... You married?"

The hunter shook his head since the sandwich was blocking his pie hole. She nodded but it didn't seem as though she was interested in him in anyway other than friendliness.

"So no girlfriend hanging around? Kids?" As she leant her head, her long hair fell over her shoulder.

He swallowed, "Nope. I've never really gotten around to settling down." Shrugging, he took another bite. He guessed that honestly would be harmless with the nice woman since they weren't risky questions and he had enough experience censoring the hunter parts from his answers. It would be a change to actually have someone to talk to for once, "Too busy travelling around."

"You travel a lot?" She clapped her hands and leant forward a little. She obviously had a serious sense of wanderlust. He could imagine her eager to spread her wings and travel the world so it seemed kind of odd to find her sat here, at some rich man's kitchen island, with a stable job in a smallish town. She seemed like the adventuring type; the backpacking through Cambodia type. Staying in hostels, having to wear dirty clothes and getting lost: they seemed ingrained into her very being without her having ever left this time zone.

"Yeah, I've always sorta lived on the road. Always found it hard to stay in one place." She seemed pleased with the information even though she didn't push the conversation further. He was happy at that. He didn't want her to start asking more awkward questions that he couldn't answer. This girl could never comprehend the monsters under her bed.

Picking up her sandwich, she took a hearty bite and peered around the kitchen as though it was her first time in the room. After a few moments, Dean joined her since it was only his sixth time, or so, in the kitchen. It was very Apple-pie and stereotypical except maybe the apple was made of dollar bills.

----
-That night-

"Bobby? Stop laughing." Dean scowled. He rested his head back against the headboard as he listened to the tinny voice cackle over the cellphone line. Rolling his eyes he muttered, "It's not that funny."

"Trust me, son. The idea of any hunter getting a real job is funny. The fact that it's YOU is what makes it so damned hilarious."

Dean peered around his motel room as he tolerated Bobby's frankly rude laughing. Why couldn't he get a proper job? He was perfectly capable, thank you!

"You're the one that suggested it in the first place!" The young man defended his ego.

"I just never expected you to actually go and find one..." The mirth was still carried in his tone.

Folding his free arm across his chest, Dean sighed, "I can do it. It's just some cleaning job to get some money."

The old man's voice turned serious, "Indeed it will get ya some money. It's especially a bonus that you managed to snag one right there in Deadwood. Maybe you can get some local insight but you gotta be alert, son." He lectured.

Rolling his eyes, Dean kicked his heavy boots off his feet and they landed with two loud thumps on the stained carpet, "Careful, you were almost starting to sound impressed for a moment there." He chuckled lightly.

"Just keep a look out, okay Idjit? You might need the job but don't let it distract you from the case. It's important." Dean really didn't need to be reminded of the severity of this one.

Over the last few months, several hunters have discovered evidence which suggested that there was huge levels of covert supernatural activity happening. From what others had found, it seemed as though there was a highly organised operation taking place across America with Deadwood being the very epicentre. Nobody had yet discovered exactly what creatures were involved but they knew that it was big. It branched across the whole country. Hunters from Oregon, Texas and even Alabama had been pulling up weird leads that all appear to connect.

He and Bobby began researching the town a month or so ago before they quickly found that they needed more inside information. Most of what they’d gathered was rumors and heresy. Automatically, Dean volunteered to go undercover and gather more evidence. Meanwhile, Bobby would stay in Sioux Falls as he attempted to contact the hunters that had already passed through the area.

So far, Dean had been in Deadwood for little over a week but hadn't noticed anything unusual about the town. Realising he'd have to stay here for a few weeks at least, he applied for several jobs around the area. Housekeeping for Mr Campbell wasn't exactly on his list of most wanted jobs but they'd replied within a few days offering him a place. Strangely, he didn't even hear from the store or restaurant despite them both still having 'Staff Wanted' flyers in the windows.

He scolded himself, he was lucky to get this job. He needed a steady income to support his hunting over the next few weeks as hustling in one town more than once would be a massive mistake. Cops weren't that stupid.

"I'll let you know if I see anything. Thanks, Bobby." He smiled as he finally hung up from the man. He actually missed the old guy while he hunted alone especially since his dad died a couple of years back.

Stomach grumbling, it was officially time for dinner. A small diner was just down the road so he guessed it was time that he tried it out. He would have been more enthusiastic if he'd known that their pie was world famous.

---
2 days later

Standing at the bottom of the large stairs, he stared up them, considering whether to go against what he'd been told and go up to the first floor. He hadn't exactly been instructed not to climb the stairs but Jessica had dismissed the upstairs on their tour by saying, "You won't need to go up there." She later explained that she was tasked with cleaning upstairs and they'd hired him to take the ground floor off her hands. It was a very large house but not significantly bigger than those surrounding it. The citizens of Deadwood appeared to be wealthy. However, due to the sizeable land surrounding it, the next neighbor was a little distance away.

He'd only been employed here for less than a week, it'd be a royal screw up to be found nosing around the house while he was supposed to be working. Still, the large staircase was practically beckoning him to follow their gentle rise. Deans heart began to race slightly. I’m losing my edge if this is giving me my thrills, he thought sarcastically. He placed his heavy work boot, unnecessary for this kind of work, onto the carpet of the first step and was pushing himself up when he froze.

"Dean?" An innocent, light voice stopped him in his tracks, "What are you doing?"

He jumped as the voice sliced through the silence of the house. Slowly and guilt laden, he turned to face the person who'd addressed him. He almost couldn't bring himself to look at her but, pulling an innocent smile onto his face, he made eye contact. Shit, he silently cursed, I'd better not be in trouble. He wasn't sure how easy it'd be to charm Jess into letting him off. She was pretty dedicated to her job.

"I thought I saw something on the step," He answered without hesitation whilst pointing towards one of the higher steps. He said his lie with confidence, after all, he was a professional conman,"I thought it was paper or something." Turning around, he rose up a few more steps before bending down to brush against the soft carpet,"Nah, must've been my eyes or something." He dismissed before treading down the steps and heading off to the kitchen with a friendly smile at Jessica.

Since when had she been so fucking light on her toes?!

He pulled out some cleaning supplies from beneath the sink for he had to clean to two bathrooms on the ground floor. He huffed to himself, this really sucked.

---

Books. So many God damned books. They somehow managed to cover every inch of the large table he was occupying at the small town library. It was quiet in the library, not just because it was a library but also because it was practically dead. The only other person was the librarian and even he looked half asleep himself.

Some of the books were spread open whilst others were still waiting to be searched through. By this point, Dean could confirm that Deadwood literally had the deadest history around. Nothing of interest, to hunters or otherwise, had happened since they began keeping records. Not even notes on Witch hunts or burnings which was severely unusual since these records went pretty far back.

The hunter rubbed his eyes and fell against the back of his chair. There was no sign of supernatural behaviour or, if there was, it had been thoroughly removed from the documents. At this point, he didn't know which would be the more likely option!

Confirming once again that he was the only visitor left in the library, Dean pulled his cellphone from his jeans and dialled Bobby's number. He only had to wait a few heartbeats before the sound of the phone being picked up came through the device.

A gruff voice introduced, "Singer Salvage."

"Bobby, it's me."

The old hunter's tone became more casual once learning the identity of the caller. He had to be alert, anyone could call the house phone. It was in the phone book which wasn't always great for when it came to secret hunter work. Although, monsters never really tend to search through the phone book when tracking down the infamous Dean Winchester and Bobby Singer. Lacking in common sense apparently.

"Son, how's everything going?" Genuine interest carried through the older man’s voice.

The young hunter rubbed the back of his head, "Well, not great." He whispered, aware of the librarian at his desk near the entrance, "I've found practically nothing. I've sat trolling through these big ass history books for what feels like forever but I've come up with squat, zilch, nada."

"... At all?"

"Nope, nothing even remotely... Suspicious." He schooled his words to avoid arousing suspicion. He couldn't start blabbering about supernatural activities when the town could be crawling in not natural creatures. "Witch burnings, crop circles and spooky deaths are a no show either. I'm telling you Bobby... Something weird is going on; I've never seen a history like this before. It’s so odd."

There was a grunt in agreement, "It seems as though I'm getting more information out here than you are down there. I-"

"Why? What have you got?" Dean interrupted quickly.

Bobby was rolling his eyes, the younger man knew that without having to see him, "I've heard some rumors from a couple hunters. All pretty standard ghost tales but one story is real recent but I haven't been able to get a hold of the hunter it stems from."

"What d'ya mean?" He asked. The older man knew he was itching for more information.

"Well, there is basic ghost stories, as there is in most towns, and a few hunters told me about them but this one hunter got told about this rumor recently. Apparently, a hunter went into Deadwood a few weeks back and did some damage to one of the creatures there."

"What kinda creature?"

He could practically hear the shrug in the man's voice, "I dunno. The guy I heard it from heard it through the grapevine... I don't know how recent it really is or if it's even true."

"Anything else about it?"

Bobby shook his head. Even though Dean couldn't see the action, he knew the older man well enough to guess, "No but I've been getting hunters to ask around. I told them not to turn up in Deadwood though. That could be a disaster if 20 hunters just stroll into town."

Dean still couldn't understand how Bobby had so many hunters at his finger tips. Most hunters would kill to get connections like he had.

Dean chewed over the information for a moment. This rumor was the only evidence they'd managed to gather so far but even that seemed kind of useless. Nobody seemed to know where the story came from. They'd have to search around some more if they were to have any hope of discovering the truth of what was happening here in Deadwood.

---

"Dean!" Jessica called.

He dropped his hand from the front doors handle and turned to her. She was stood halfway up the large staircase with yellow plastic gloves contrasting her plain black uniform. Her hair was pulled back by some sort of bandana while a smudge of some black substance marked her rosy cheek.

"I forgot to tell you, I'm not here the next two days and you don't have to come either!" She gave him a bright smile.

"So, I'm free Wednesday and Thursday?" He confirmed as he didn't want to get into trouble for not showing up.

"Yes!" Jess enthused as she clapped her yellow hands together. "Isn't it great to have time off?!"

Dean thought for a beat before addressing her again, "What about cleaning out the refrigerator? I was going to do it tomorrow morning."

Jess waved a dismissive hand as she began to climb the stairs again. Her hips swayed side to side as she moved. She called over her shoulder, "Just do it on Friday!" Her casual approach to his task was unusual since she would normally be pushing him to keep up with the arm-long list she provided each morning.

He watched her ascend the stairs until she was around the corner. He then shrugged, pulled his leather jacket closer around his torso before hauling the heavy door open and stepping out.

---
-The next morning-

He blinked awake. Squeals of passing children practically burst his ear drums as he was ripped from a pleasant dream. The hunter groaned before checking his cellphone.

The screen lit up to proclaim that it had just passed 6:00 in the morning. This was supposed to be a day off as well. He groaned again and was about to throw his phone down when he noticed the small message symbol in the bottom of the screen. He clicked it.

Found out some information about that hunter. Call soon -B (4:36am)

Dean contemplated simply drifting back to sleep but the message caused curiosity to flourish inside him. He pulled up the old man's number and called it.

"Bobby? What are you doing up at this time?" The old hunter was well know for his seemingly sleepless routine.

"What time is it?"

"6am, man." He sighed.

"Oh... I'll get to bed later."

Rolling his eyes, Dean decided to let the man's all nighter pass, "You have news?"

"Yes, I tracked the rumor back to a hunter living in Missoula. He's an old guy and apparently real elusive. The hunter that told me about him said he rarely leaves his cabin aside for really challenging hunts. I guess he's just an old hunter that's trying to prove to himself that he's not out of his prime. I don't think he did too much damage to the creature in the story though."

"And you can get a hold of him?"

"I've been trying all night, Dean. This guy is apparently a technophobe and only one hunter knows his address. To make it worse, he's a one of those solitary types." He revealed.

"Fuck, Bobby... Will you be able to find anything more? Every time I try something new, it's a dead end almost immediately. Everyone seems normal. Normal people in a normal town with their normal jobs. I don't know if it's just how unused to the normality I am which is making me have odd feelings about the place or if I’m right and it’s all a cover up."

"Trust me when I say that I believe you. Everything about this place just stinks. Something's up." The older man huffed.

----

He wasn't supposed to be here today but what else was he going to do until Bobby finds some more out about the situation since he was obviously getting no further here.

His current location was halfway in some old man's fridge. Rubber-duck yellow gloves were plastered to the skin of his lower arms and the fumes were getting to his head. It wasn't that he was exactly enthusiastic about cleaning out the refrigerator but it was a job that was on his list so he thought that it was best to just get it done before he and Jess were officially back to work on Friday. It was a means to end his boredom.

As he wiped antibacterial spray over the white surface of the fridge insides, he pondered Jessica. He wondered where she was. Perhaps she was catching up with family or even hanging out with friends for the two days. He considered maybe texting her later to ask about her day off. How desperate for human contact must he be if he was even thinking about messaging a stranger on their day off.

Suddenly, a noise erupted behind him. The shock sent Dean's head crashing into the refrigerator shelves over him. Luckily, he hadn't put any of the food back in yet; that could have been messy. Dean turned to peer at whoever had caused the racket.

His eyes widened slightly as the intruder was a tall, well built male with long brown hair. His hair was sticking out at awkward angles like he'd literally dragged himself from a bush. A crease was formed in between the man's brows as he peered down at Dean in confusion, for some reason the hunter felt as though the look was a rare sight upon the man's face. Even from this distance, Dean could make out the dark circles under his eyes like old bruises. His broad jaw moved open and closed as words failed to form upon his tongue. He was leant heavily against the counter. The stool in front of the stranger was slightly askew where he'd knocked into it noisily.

"Um, can I help you?" Dean asked, slightly offended by the handsome man's gawking. He raised a challenging eyebrow.

The hunter dragged his eyes over the man's body. A tight, black vest covered his torso and black boxer shorts accompanied the look. A dark blue, silk-looking bathrobe hung from his shoulders. The Sasquatch pulled the robe over his stomach slightly like he was shielding himself. Dean never pictured a man like that having self-esteem problems.

Suspicious of this young man, probably several years younger than Dean himself, the yellow gloved man stood before strolling up to the island where he rested a hip against the surface. He didn't take his eyes off the guy the whole time. Who was he and how did he get in? And more importantly, why was he in his sleeping clothes? Another young companion for Mr Campbell? Did Jessica know?

The man seemed to think for a moment before realisation and extreme relief bled into his features, "You're Dean, correct?" His voice was weak.

"Yes. Why?" Defensive, he snapped.

"I don't think we've had a real chance of being introduced. I'm Sam and I own the house." He clearly tried to smile but something made the smile leak away. It was replaced by discomfort.

"You're Mr Campbell?!" He exclaimed as he leapt forward to shake his employer's hand.

The man seemed resistant to release his hand from the tight grasp of his robe but, after a second of inner conflict, he shook Dean's hand seeming to ignore the gloves. The man's shake was powerless. That was when something dawned on him.

"Oh my God! I totally forgot, Jess said that you were really ill. Do you want to sit down or something?” He began pulling out the stool before the convalescent had responded. Sam waved off his concern with a hand.

"No, don't worry about me. Just recovering from a flu. I just came to get my medication since Jess isn't here today. Speaking of, why are you here today?" He seemed mildly concerned.

"I have a list to get done so I thought I'd get a head start before Friday. I'm sorry if I'm causing trouble." Feeling out of place and in the way, Dean took a step back from the man. He'd never really had a boss before so was unsure on how to act. Even further, he’d never been in a situation where he wasn’t the one in charge so it felt unfamiliar to be looking to someone else for cues on how to behave.

"No, no, don't worry. It's fine but you should really have a day off tomorrow. I don't want to work you to death." Sam tried to smile. He shuffled up towards one of the cabinets above the work surface, by the sink. He began reaching up when he released a pained cry and folded over on himself. He was clutching his stomach.

"Mr Campbell!" Dean called as he shot over to support the man. He gripped Sam's arm through the sleeve of the robe to keep him steady. "You okay, man?"

Breathing through his teeth, Sam reassured him, "I'm absolutely fine, just aching here and there. Could you reach up and grab me that black bag? It looks like a first aid kit only it's completely black."

Always following orders, the hunter stretched up to the top shelf where he pulled out a heavy bag. It was only small, like an A3 piece of paper wide, but the weight to it was shocking. Curious, Dean was about to open it for the wealthy homeowner when Sam stopped him by taking the handle of the little bag to carry upstairs.

"Do you need me to stick around and help? Are you sure you're okay?" The concern was shown through his words and tone. He wouldn't mind spending more time with a man with Sam's looks... As long as the man didn't have some sort of contagious disease. He had to fight the urge to take a step back.

"No, I'm fine. Thank you, Dean. I really appreciate it though." He began to shuffle towards the door with a hand always held to the side of his stomach. The older man couldn't help but wonder if he'd had a stomach bug or has a fatal disease. He reached the doorway of the kitchen when he suddenly turned and spoke, "Don't stay late tonight, Dean. This is supposed to be your time off."

Taking his advice, Dean finished off the refrigerator before gathering his stuff and leaving. He could probably do more research with the extra time but he had to admit that it was a weird encounter.

Chapter 2 Chapter Text

"All I'm saying is that it was kinda weird." The hunter mumbled to Bobby while he kept the cellphone pinned between his jaw and shoulder.

"Have you tested him?"

"Why would I test him? We all know that vampires, werewolves and everything else don't get real sick. He looked pretty ill to me."

"I suppose..." The older man grumbled.

"What do you expect me to do? Run up to my ill boss and throw some holy water on him? Silver?" He asked, defensively.

He could hear Bobby sighing and moving about on the other end, "No, I don't. Just be careful alright? Everything that I've found suggests that there is something massive happening there and anyone could be involved." Dean knew he was right. Almost every hunter he knew had at least stopped by the town over the last year in an attempt to get to the bottom of the weird behaviour and disappearances.

The chinese takeout was going cold on his lap as he twisted is plastic fork in the noodles in a repetitive motion. He wasn't really that hungry but he'd had half the day off so he needed something to do... That something became ordering food.

"I know... There's some strange cults on the edge of town but everyone else seems normal. I'm gunna check them out over the weekend." He told Bobby as his mind wandered.

"Okay, keep me in the loop." As Dean listened, he gazed at the square of light cast on the floor from the large moon outside. Nights were beginning to draw in.

What loop? Dean thought bitterly, it's literally just me out here. He tried not to be bitter as Bobby was obviously working hard too but the loneliness did get to him on occasion.

----

He'd parked the Impala near the mouth of the private road as he didn't want the loud engine to give him away. The small community was located a few hundred meters into the soundless woods so any unfamiliar sounds would instantly tell them of a visitor. Also, if they were the supernatural then it'd give them a chance to make a plan.

Dean's boots crunched against the twigs and leaves on the edge of the dirt track but he was just enjoying actually doing something again. Research was his weakest side to hunting and he'd always despised it since he was a kid but the action afterward is what he lived for.

It was already growing dark and there was a chill in the air but the hunter was determined that he would only be out for a few hours, just long enough to gather what he needed. The woods were thick but the falling leaves meant that some light could still penetrate through.

If he was quiet enough then he may even get the opportunity to take a look around the houses to see if there was a suspicious signs like old sacrifices or sigils painted around. If Dean was to make a supernatural cult then he'd definitely hide it away from the normal community to stop suspicion being aroused. Not that he had any plans to develop a cult anytime soon...

There was a little bit of noise coming from ahead so Dean knew he'd almost reached the area of living. There was voices so he stepped extra carefully as he approached. He came off the road and began travelling through the very woods to avoid being spotted.

He came closer.

"Terry!" A male called out, "I've gotta go to town and sort things out. It's been going on for too long." He sounded frustrated.

The man Dean assumed to be Terry approached the first man, "These Passives... I can't stand them."

They are talking about humans? Dean tried to keep up. He tried to step closer so he could hear better but didn't want to reveal himself especially if they were monsters talking about humans.

"What can we do though?" His accent was thick, "Nobody listens to us. Everyone loves the Passives."

Terry grunted, "You're not wrong there."

The men then separated and went into their own shack-like homes with just a wave to each other. Dean didn't like this. Bobby was right: it stank.

----

He was still panting from running when he said, "Bobby?" Dean started as soon as the cell was answered, "Some weird shit is happening." The grumble of baby accompanied his words. He was getting away from there as quickly as possible.

"What do you mean?" He was already thinking about the case. Dean knew he was probably grabbing paper to take down notes.

"I headed up to those cults I was talking about and I overheard two guys talking. They were speaking about how something had been going on for too long and it's the Passives. They hate the Passives and wanted to do something about them. Humans right? He was a monster and he's tired of humans being around while they have to be in hiding." He turned onto the road that led towards Deadwood town centre. "They could be planning something across the whole country. Like taking control?"

"Woah, woah, woah. Dean, what did they look like?"

"I didn't get a real look. It was getting dark and I was watching from the woods around their clearing." He answered quickly, adrenaline pumping through his veins.

"Wait? You were just sitting in the woods around this group of monsters in the dark alone?" Bobby exaggerated every part he disapproved of, which happened to be most of it. "Anything could have been sneaking up on you!"

There was a beat of silence as Dean realised how reckless he'd been before he spoke again, "That's not what's important! Did you not listen to what I said?!"

The old man sighed but allowed this lecture to pass, "Yeah, son. I'm adding to everything we know right now. This is big stuff... I don't know how we'd deal with something like this..."

"At the source?" Dean suggested.

The young man had pulled into town now and had to slow his speed despite the excitement that was pulsing through his veins. He lived for this exact thrill. He craved the adrenaline it provided. He didn't want to draw attention to himself due to reckless driving.

"Yeah," Bobby sighed, rubbing his hands over his face, "Look, keep an eye out around town and I'll get in contact with this hunter from Missoula to see if he was onto the same thing."

"You're still chasing him?" Dean teased. It wasn't everyday that Bobby actually had to put effort into finding a hunter. They were usual lined up in his phone book, alphabetized and everything.

"I'm real close!" The old hunter snapped.

"Sure, sure. Just keep me updated."

----

"I met the boss yesterday." Dean said to Jessica's back as she was searching under the cupboards for the right product for him to use. She seemed to freeze before turning around.

"Yesterday? How'd you find him?" His opinion of the man suddenly seemed very important and Dean didn't want to disappoint.

"He seemed nice. Very likeable." Shrugging, he spoke.

She jumped up and clasped her hands together, "I knew you'd love him! Sam is so great and an awesome boss. You'll never meet a nicer guy. He goes out of his way for anyone and everyone no matter what they need. Oh and he understands how everyone has needs and doesn't brush your needs off just because he doesn't experience the same thing."

For some reason, Dean thought she was talking about her period. That made the hunter increasingly uncomfortable. Do men usually brush off women's 'needs' because we don't experience the same thing? He was sure his confusion and concern would show on his face but Jess didn't mention anything.

"You're lucky anyway." She sighed before searching for the bottle again.

"Wait... I'm lucky?" He blinked. He was lucky because he didn't have women's 'needs'?

She chuckled slightly and shuffled closer to Dean as though she was going to share some school yard gossip, "He only swings your way, he plays for the other team, he's on the other bus, he's waving the other flag, he's going-"

"He's gay?" Dean interrupted Jessica's little list.

"Gay... Or bisexual... Or pansexual... Or..." She huffed a sigh, "Look, I'm not 100% sure and I don't want to start rumors but I've seen him check out one too many men's asses to be straight." She shrugged.

Dean blinked. That certainly was a revelation and Jessica certainly knew how to reveal with some enthusiasm. But... How did she know that Dean was interested in both?

"How did you..." He began, lifting a hand to gesture at himself.

"Trust me, when you know what to look for, it's obvious." She grinned before placing the bottle of product on the table and strolling off to continue with her duties. Dean sighed and went about his chores while shaking his head.

---

"They're all gunna die."

"Well, that's dramatic. It's nice to see you too."

Dean rolled his eyes before pulling Bobby into a manly hug. He patted his back.

"It's true though. Everyone in Deadwood is going to be killed by these people- monsters." He corrected.

"You don't know that for sure." Bobby tried to reassure him as he led the way into the road side diner.

Fed up of over the phone communication, Bobby and Dean arranged to meet up on Sunday afternoon when Dean had his day off. They'd decided to meet halfway so both men could be back at their places by night. It would have been a pain for Dean to book time off so soon into his employment. This is why they were currently sat either side of a small table in a sticky diner.

"They won't die if we do something." Bobby got back on topic after the waitress took their order. He was trying to keep Dean positive.

"Jessica and Sam are right there in Deadwood. If something goes wrong..."

"You've grown attached to these people? Is there... Anything more going on?" Hesitantly, he asked.

"More?" He chuckled, "No, Jess is way too dedicated to her job for time to date and I've only bumped into Sam once even if he was really nice." He tried not to go dreamy over his boss; that would be embarrassing for Dean to display in front of the old hunter.

"Look at you, settling down."

"Settling down?! This isn't settling down! This is undercover research!" He argued as though his hunting job was suddenly on the line.

"I'm just kidding!" Bobby raised his hands in a surrender but Dean could see he was trying to conceal a chuckle. "Anyway, you don't have to panic. You can just do what you do best, save them."

Dean brushed at his stubble with the very tips of his fingers as he hummed thoughtfully. Of course he would save them. They were civilians but Jess was already becoming a friend to him. He couldn't help but be a little over dramatic as he'd begun to accept these people into his life.

"Okay," Dean answered seriously, as he leant forward onto the table so Bobby could hear his whisper,"What will we do?"

---

The driveway up to Sam's house was unnecessarily long and it often took Dean a little time just to make it up to the front door. The hunter had never understood why the man required a large driveway... Until today.

A classic Ford Mustang was parked up in front of the large house. The sun shone off the pristine black paintwork and Dean could already feel himself almost salivating over the old masterpiece. It was a classic, nothing like the new cars they produced these days. It didn't quite match his Baby though. Dean silently vowed that he'd find the owner and practically kiss them. Who did it belong to? If Sam had guests visiting, was he still expected to just come in and start his work?

The hunter pushed the door open hesitantly, sticking his head around the door first to check it out.

"Dean?"

Trust him to get spotted while just having his neck halfway in the door, looking mildly concerned too. Jessica was just coming out of the kitchen but she'd stopped and was now stood with her hands on her hips.

"What are you even doing?" She leant her head as though getting another perspective would suddenly make everything make perfect sense. Her blonde ponytail flopped to her shoulder.

"I was just looking to see if Mr Campbell had guests..." He stepped into the room.

"Guests?" She frowned, walking in the direction of the stairs, "Why'd you think that?"

"Because of the car out front?"

"What ca-" She stopped, "Oh, that's Sam's. He's got a weird attachment to his old cars..." She shrugged before just walking back up the stairs and back to her duties. "I'll see you later!"

Dean's mouth dropped, how could he not have know this. His employer was a classic car enthusiast?! He was now very eager to be reintroduced to the man. Maybe he could drive Baby up in the next few days and blow Sam's socks off. He'd love that.

---

He was checking his cellphone when he shut the door behind him so didn't notice Sam out at the bottom of the steps until he was almost about to bump into him. He glanced up at the sound of a tool being dropped into a toolbox; the clink of metal was distinctive and it instantly caught the hunter's attention.

Sam's ass was sticking out as his head was lost under the hood of the Ford Mustang. Sweat glistened on the man's broad shoulders under his vest as the heat of the day had gotten to him. Dean could feel when his eyebrows rose significantly. It wasn't everyday he saw a man posing as though he'd been plucked straight from Dean's deepest fantasies.

Sam straightened up, clicking his back, before dropping another wrench back into his large box. The long haired man glanced around casually.

"Oh, Dean!" A gentle smile pulled his lips, "I thought I heard the door." His hazel eyes sparkled.

"Yeah... I-I'm finished for the day." He explained with a shrug, unsure to why he stuttered.

"I wasn't going to yell at you for skipping out or anything!" Sam chuckled before turning to peer down at the engine again. Even though Sam had turned away, Dean was determined that the conversation wasn't finished.

He climbed down the last couple steps before coming to halt beside his boss. They studied the engine in silence for a while. Dean couldn't see anything wrong with it although he knew that older cars almost always required maintenance.

"She looks good. What'cha doing?"

Sam smirked a little, "With these older cars you have to keep the parts in excellent condition otherwise they'll suddenly go out of production one day and that'll be the time that you'll get an issue. I'm always trying to stock up on parts for my cars." He mumbled.

"I know what it's like; I have a '67 Impala." He desperately tried not to sound like a proud father but he failed.

Sam's eyes only settled on him for a moment, "Really?" For some reason, he actually didn't sound surprised, "They're awesome. I've always wanted to get my hands on one of those." He rubbed the back of his neck, leaving a long smudge of grease.

"I can bring her around somewhen if you'd want to take a look at her?"

"You'd do that?! For me?!" Excitement permeated through the large man's tone. He bit his lower lip to prevent the break out of a too-large smile. Dimples formed in the younger man's cheeks.

The sight of Sam so happy made Dean's stomach flip, "Of course! I'd love to!"

"Maybe on the weekend? I'm working most of this week... And I guess you are too." He chuckled, good naturedly. He leant against the car so it took some of his weight.

Dean felt like butterflies were erupting within him. Even if Sam wasn't into guys, it would still be great to spend time with him. It wasn't that often that Dean just got to spend some down time with a fellow classic car maniac. He was free the whole of Sunday, as per the contract of his employment.

"Sunday morning?" Dean offered up. He would then probably have time to do some research on Saturday and Bobby wouldn't be any wiser that he'd been spending hours just drooling over old cars.

Sam winced dramatically, "Sorry, I've got church on Sunday morning but I'm free in the afternoon? If you're up for that?" He smiled encouragingly.

Dean knew his eyebrows had risen in shock. He blinked.

Sam chuckled, "I know, everyone always seems surprised when I admit that I'm a church goer!" He shrugged while wiping his hands over the butt of his jeans in a unconscious act to clean them off. Dean's eyes followed the large hands.

Oh my god, stop staring, Dean scolded himself.

"No, I didn't have you pegged as religious but I guess, I don't really know you... We've only met twice."

"Is that all? It feels like much more." The dimples deepened.

Was he flirting? The way he smirked suggested that he was flirting but the hunter didn't want to risk being wrong. Jessica had said he might be interested in men but coming onto your straight boss wouldn't be a great move. Dean swallowed, looking down at the floor.

Dean looked up, Sam's smirk and his mischievous glint was gone, "So Sunday afternoon?"

Sam nodded, turning back to the engine behind him, "Yeah, that's perfect. See you then."

---

It was only Wednesday and Dean was desperate for the week to just be over already. He'd grown tired of cleaning things that weren't even dirty. Nobody used the house enough for any real grim to develop on the lower floor.

Friday he was going to drink, he'd decided on it. He'd been more sober than drunk over the last month or so and he'd began to grow bored of it. You can only use a case as an excuse to drink the hunter's helper for so long... When the case drags out, it begins to look more like alcoholism rather than just unwinding.

Maybe he'd even find a chick or guy to hook up with too. The more he thought about Sam Campbell the more sexual tension seemed to be building up within him. It wouldn't exactly be a great move to accidentally jump the man the moment he saw him on Sunday especially after church. So he definitely needed to sort this out before then.

"Jess?" He called out when he saw her stride past the doorframe of the living room in which he was currently sweeping. Dean felt like she wanted him to go faster so was subtly doing some of the downstairs. Her shoes squeaked as she back tracked.

"Yeah?" She smiled and waited patiently even though Dean knew she'd be itching to get onto her next task.

He thought for a beat about how to phrase the question, "I spoke to Mr Campbell outside yesterday, is he feeling better?" For some reason, while inside the home and working he naturally referred to his boss more formally.

She seemed surprised that Dean remembered about their boss' illness and that he actually cared about the man's recovery. She swallowed and shook her head slightly, "He's not great. He gets tired really quickly and has to sit down a lot. That's without mentioning the bouts of dizziness and stuff. He's a pain in my ass because he doesn't like to admit he's in pain and wants to get up to do things!" She shrugged, "But he is definitely definitely better than a few weeks ago." She moved further into the room, "We all thought he was going to die actually because it got so bad but we called the best doctors in from all around America. One even came from Dallas and they helped him get to where he is now. I was spending so much time helping him that much of the housework was going undone... Which is where you come in." She grinned.

"I'm glad I could help." He admitted honestly.

"Me too."

----
The smell of cookies permeated throughout the house making the hunter beyond confused when he opened the door that gloomy Friday morning. The house appeared to be silent apart from bashing and clanging coming from the kitchen of Sam's large house.

Dean was apprehensive but he approached the doorway and peeped his head inside. Jessica was wearing a dark green apron over her uniform and was placing golden cookies onto a plate with delicate care.

"Hey, Dean." She muttered without looking up.

"What'cha doing?" He wondered out loud. He assessed the danger level and upon rating it as minimal, he paced further into the kitchen so he could lean against the island in the middle.

This was when she glanced up, her usually neat ponytail had strands hanging out and was slightly lopsided. She looked noticeably tired, "Stress baking. Want a cookie?"

The plate was piled high. There appeared to be several types of cookies, making something similar to a pyramid of deliciousness. He eagerly plucked a chocolate chip one from the top and tried not to moan in delight when the warm, goo-y cookie melted in his mouth. Jess smiled at the positive feedback.

"You're stressed?" He asked around the mouthful of crumbs.

She nodded before huffing a breath, making the tendrils of hair around her face fly up for a moment. Jess sighed, dumping herself down onto the kitchen stool beside where she was cooking. Her shoulders were tense and cheeks were flushed.

"Sam has this really important meeting which needs to go well or his whole life's work will be ruined and then he'll get no money and will become homeless and will have no food and will die."

He blinked at the blonde, "I doubt he'll become homeless... Or die." And he thought that he'd been over dramatic!

She shrugged, "I know but being eccentric lets out some of the energy, you know?"

Dean nodded, taking a seat opposite her and helping himself to another warm cookie. He thought for a minute, "What does Sam do?"

She smiled, "He's kinda like a politician, I guess. That's the best way to describe it. I'm actually kinda surprised you haven't already asked. You seem curious about him." There was a slight eyebrow raise.

"I am not!"

"I saw you talking to him on Tuesday out front." She smirked a little and munched on her own cookie.

"And? We were just talking." He could feel himself going red under her intense scrutiny.

She giggled, "I was only watching for a moment but I saw you check out his ass like three times..."

The flush began to spread over his nose and up to the tip of his ears. He'd realised that his eyes were naturally drawn to men's asses but he hadn't known that it happened so regularly or maybe it was just Sam's behind that caused an increase in frequency? Had Sam noticed him checking out his butt all the time? He cringed.

"Am I not allowed to check out nice butts?" He folded his arms and tried to act as though this conversation was not making him super embarrassed and that he had never had such a direct talk like this with someone.

She smiled, "Of course you are allowed to look at Sam's ass... As long as you treat him right." Her face turned stony, "If you want anything to happen with Sam then you must be good to him. He has a good, but sad, soul and over the years, people have taken advantage of that." Dean had never had this whole 'don't hurt my little brother' talk before but it wasn't as bad as he'd always anticipated it to be. The hunter wasn't sure what she meant about his soul being sad as Sam seemed as happy as the next person (from what he'd seen of the man).

"I doubt anything will happen considering that he's my boss but I'll keep it in mind non-the-less." He raised his hands in surrender.

She smiled, a friendly, genuine and pretty smile, "Good."

Chapter 3 Chapter Text

The books were heavy but the path from the library to the Impala was only short so Dean silently told himself to man up and deal with it. He held three leather bound books in his spread arms which he'd just borrowed from the library in the next town over, Brantree.

There'd been absolutely no hint to this supernatural cult in any of the history books in Deadwood so Dean had began to branch out in the hopes that perhaps the history had overlapped a little. It wasn't exactly light Friday night reading but Bobby had been messaging him a lot asking if he'd done any more research on the town.

He flicked through them once sat in the car but they didn't exactly seem promising. The texts seemed almost solely focused on their own town but he would pour over them for hours later to ensure there wasn't anything being over looked.

The drive back felt like forever but he was glad of it since reading over these Tomes weren't exactly on the top of his 'Really Want To Do List'.

---
"Okay, Bobby. I've got something." Dean spoke into the cell as soon as his adopted father figure finished his greeting, "In the past, the neighboring town had really high levels of witch activity. Witch hunters from around the world would often flock there and there would be massive burning at the stake kinda deals and stuff."

"Let me note this down," The old man mumbled as he began frantically searching for a pen.

"But get this, even more recently there was this cult that kinda lurked on the edge of town. In the late 18th century, the cult began claiming that they were putting curses on Brantree so the towns people drove them out of the town with fires... It sounds like it could be that cult-like thing in Deadwood."

There was a sigh from the old man, "It certainly does but witches and enchanters shouldn't just be messed with, son. Especially if their as old as they sound. They might be harnessing some real power out there."

"You're right." He wanted to drop his head into the book and scream. Nothing was ever straight forward for them. There always had to be a hitch somewhere in the plan.

They both thought for a few seconds before Dean spoke up, "I might do a stake out up in the woods around their clearing." He proposed his thoughts.

"Well, you can't do it alone. Not know we know what we'd be dealing with up there. I can set out tomorrow morning and be there before sundown." He said with authority.

"Fine."

---
Dean stretched out his toes as he gradually came back from his state of unconsciousness. He enjoyed the feeling of just lying in bed with no real push to get out of town. Being a hunter, he'd adjusted to life where you simply grab your stuff and run as soon as the sun broke. Now, on the other hand, he didn't have to be at work until 9:30 so he usually got some time to relax.

Over the last month or so, Dean had saved up quite a little pile of money. The prospect of finally moving out of this motel and into somewhere to rent truly excited him which was bizarre since it's such a civilian thing to do.

There was a few smaller places around town which Dean's budget could probably stretch to... Not that he was eager or anything.

He checked his cellphone and it was only 7:30 so he had plenty of time before he had to start getting ready. He remembered that Bobby was visiting and grinned to himself. He'd not seen the old man in a few weeks now so it would be good catch up time even if they did sprinkle a stake out in to their schedule here and there. Hopefully, Dean would be home before Bobby.

He planned for them to go up to the clearing tonight as he had most of tomorrow to deal with any immediate issues. Although, he was showing Sam Baby in the afternoon so he'd have to remain conscious of the time. He'd also have to abandon Bobby... Hopefully the man would be okay with that. It's not like it was a date or anything.

He pulled himself out of the lumpy bed and shuffled to the shower to freshen up for the day ahead. If he got all the tasks done quickly then Jess might let him leave early if he mentioned that his uncle is visiting. He kept his fingers crossed.

He threw on his usual black uniform and strode out into the parking lot. The air was chilling and carried that early morning bite. Patting his Baby, he strode towards the diner on the corner. He definitely had time for some breakfast before walking over to Sam's place. There was no point driving up but he also would feel awkward parking the Impala on the large and usually empty driver way.

-Heading out in a couple of hours. Let you know when I get close. B-

The text vibrated in his pocket, Dean pulled it out and glanced down quickly. He smiled at the thought of a visitor. He'd began to grow lonely since moving to Deadwood all alone. He only had Jess and, on the rare occasion, Sam for company. He hadn't even seen his boss since Tuesday when they'd spoken out on the driveway.

-Looking forward to it. Hopefully we can sort this out this week so I can get the hell out of this town. D-

He ordered his favorite breakfast with a strong coffee to fully wake his brain up. It was strangely quiet for the time of morning. There were only a few businessmen and women milling around but it seemed as though everyone wanted to use this Saturday as a sleeping day. Dean couldn't knock them for that.

---
Jess was wound up and Sam appeared to be on another business meeting of sorts so he didn't really see much of either of them all day. Dean spent the majority of the day scrubbing every single hardwood floor in the large downstairs area. The hunter had never realised how many trees must have gone into the creation of this building. It was a large and tiring job but it had been on his list for a few weeks.

The cell vibrated in his pocket.

-Only a couple of hours away. B-

Glancing around the floor, he calculated that it wouldn't take him that long to finish the room he was currently working on. The hunter would have to hunt down the blonde woman and get her blessing to run off maybe thirty minutes early.

He stood and clicked his back with a long stretch. He'd been cramped over for the last few hours so it was good to finally straighten out again. His knees complained but he felt oddly satisfied when his eyes gazed over the shining floor. He'd never been proud of wood before... Oh my God, I'm turning into Jess.

He collected his bucket and was about to leave when he heard whispered voices outside the room. Even the thick wooden doors were not soundproof. It was Sam and Jessica.

"This is ridiculous." She hissed, "You said this would only be temporary."

Dean blinked, were they talking about his employment? Now Sam was almost fully recovered, they didn't really need Dean loitering around. Jess would probably do a much better job of it all anyway, he thought guiltily.

"Jess, please. Do you trust me?" There was silence, "Jessica, how long have we been friends for?"

She sighed, "More years then I care to count."

"So, do you trust me?"

"Yes, Sam. But please, sort it out." Desperation leaked into her voice.

"I'm trying." Weariness seeped into his voice like he had the weight of his business resting on his shoulders. The hunter pitied him.

There was a brief silence and a ruffle of fabric before they went off in their separation directions. Dean hadn't heard Sam come in. He blinked at himself. Since when had be been obsessed with the man's every action? Dean was acting like some love sick teenager.

More importantly, did Jessica resent Dean's employment here? If he got laid off then he'd have to find another job to support himself and he really didn't want to be drawing attention to himself while undercover.

Poking his head out of the door, he checked that the scene was clear before making a dash for the kitchen. If he got his jacket on slowly then he wouldn't even have to speak with Jessica before leaving today.

---

"What's wrong, son?" Bobby leant across the table so he could be a little closer to the younger hunter.

Dean licked his lips and sighed, "I think I might be getting fired."

"Well, it's not in a hunter's blood to stick in a job so they were bound to find something wrong with you sooner or later. Don't worry yer self over it!" He tried to soothe.

The young man scratched at the label on his beer with his thumb nail. He chewed his lips as he thought.

"It's just... I thought I got on really well with them both but it sounded like the couldn't have been more eager to get rid of me!" He cried in confusion. "I thought being a hunter gave me a good judge of when I'm being lied to... But I suppose not."

"Don't blame yer self." He put on his consoling face, "They might just not want to upset you so have learnt to hide it."

Dean shrugged, "I suppose... Anyway, I have a stakeout to focus on now." Sarcasm was heavy in his tone.

----
It was dark as it had passed midnight over an hour ago but they hadn't really been focusing on the time since they started walking. Faint torches lit their path but were not bright enough to get them spotted.

The sticks snapped silently from beneath their chunky work boots as they trod carefully like animals in the forest. The heavy bags on their backs, weighed them down but the hunters were determined to push forward through the woods.

They'd talked from the car but had grown silent upon getting closer to the clearing. The Impala was tucked away on the side of the main road, a few hundred feet from the turn off to the rough, dirt track. They'd hiked from there.

"Are we close?" Bobby whispered from where he was following Dean's footsteps.

Nodding he answered, "I think so. Not long."

Dean's predictions came true as within ten minutes they were stood near the edge of the trees; they wouldn't dare and even take a single step out of the cover of the woods. If this was a cult of witches and enchanters then the hunters knew better than to just stroll in. They weren't suicidal, after all.

All seemed quiet in the few houses that were set up there. No lights were on and no voices could be heard. The hunter crouched down and peered out into the clearing. There was no sign of life.

"Might as well make ourselves comfortable," Bobby mumbled, pulling a thick coat from the large backpack.

They'd have to watch for at least an hour to see if anything unusual was going on before they ventured any closer. They'd not be able to search inside but they'd be able to scour the outside of the properties.

The older man settled himself against a tree where he leant back against it with his arms crossed and eyes focused through the darkness on the small community. He had a frown on his face.

Dean knew this wasn't ideal stakeout conditions as the ground was damp and the winter chill had begun to invade the night. It wouldn't be long until these fall days became wintery weather. The younger hunter huffed a sigh a leant against a tree close to Bobby's. He trained his eyes on the dark houses and prepared to sit to out.

---

"Dean? Dean?!" The voice hissed.

The hunter blinked, suddenly realising that he'd fallen asleep against the tree. It was beginning to get lighter as dawn had already broke.

"Damn it." He murmured, clicking his neck to try and relieve the tension.

"Did you fall asleep too?" Bobby asked while trying to stand up. His old back had locked up making movement painful. The pinched look on his face displayed that.

"You bet." He grumbled, pulling his backpack onto his back. "This sucks... What a waste of time."

"I know but it's too early now to go huntin' around. It's gone six am." Bobby warned him, knowing that Dean would probably be planning something.

The young hunter's shoulders sank. His only chance for a whole week and they'd screwed it up. This cult could do anything in the time they had now. Unless he booked time off work... Not that Sam and Jessica would be particularly heartbroken over that.

Sam! He cursed himself, "God Damn!" And stomped on the ground.

"What?!" Bobby began to lead the away in the opposite direction of the clearing.

"I promised Sam I'd go up to his house this afternoon and show him Baby." He explained. His boots crunched on leaves and twigs but he marched on beside his uncle.

"You can still go. It's not like we will get any research done this this town." He scratched at his beard and yawned. Dean could already tell the older man was planning a nap while be went out with the Impala.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right."

The two men talked. In the light of day, the wood was alive so their voices weren't the sole noise allowing them to talk freely. It was nice for them to catch up again. Dean accidentally found himself talking about Sam for large chunks of time but Bobby didn't seemed to mind, he only smirked slightly on occasion.

It was much later when they finally made it out of the trees and stumbled out onto the road. It wasn't too far down from where they'd left Baby so they began walking up towards the dirty track which led to the clearing.

They walked for a whole ten minutes before Dean finally spoke, "This is strange." He frowned, glancing back down the road they'd been walking along. "I swear we should have bumped into her by now. I didn't park her this close to the track..."

"Maybe the darkness is was confusing." Bobby suggested, encouraging him to continue the search. If they couldn't find the car it'd be a long trek back down into town. "I'm sure we'll walk right into her any second." He tried to reassure the man but he could feel a sinking deep within his stomach. If the Impala had been taken then it'll only mean bad news for them.

The older man allowed for his eyes to slide to his watch it was nearly 8:30am. It'd taken them almost two hours to navigate the woods and search this far for the car. He was praying to whatever deities out there that they'd manage to get back soon as his stomach was rumbling. Plus, his feet were beginning to ache.

They walked for another fifteen minutes until they were directly at the bottom of the dirt track which led up to the clearing. It was poorly maintained and had thick slushy mud; at least Dean knew for certain that the Impala couldn't make it up there with those wacky witches.

The young man groaned and dumped his backpack onto the gravel on the edge of the Tarmac road into town. He leant against a thick tree, the branches shook with the force he fell back onto the wood with.

"She's gone." He huffed, crossing his arms and scowling. Murder was painted on his features. Nobody but him had the right to touch his baby.

Trying to control the situation, Bobby sighed and glanced off into the distance. They were far away from town, especially by foot, so he couldn't even see the nearest house or establishment. He chewed the inside of his cheek, a secret nervous habit. If the enchanters had the Impala then they had access to all of Dean's equipment and research. If they needed an excuse to kill the 'passives' then now was the perfect opportunity. Especially since the two hunters were stranded a long walk from out of town.

"Come on. We've got a long walk." Bobby turned and began walking in the direct they'd originally come. It was going to take them at least an hour to make it back to the town then another twenty minutes to get to the motel. Hopefully, that wouldn't be broken in to.

Begrudgingly, Dean hoisted the backpack up and slung it onto his shoulders. He tried to keep the complaining to a minimum as they walked.

Chapter 4 Chapter Text

"This bag weighs a fucking tonne." Dean mumbled under his breath as they entered into town. Most of the stores were shut up for the sabbath. The sidewalks were bare as the townsfolk gathered in their chosen places of worship. Dean had never seen such a religious town.

"We have better things to worry about than your bag." The old man grumbled, scratching at his old beard. "If they have the Impala then they have all your equipment and enchanters can be crazy sons of bitches."

The weight of the situation hit Dean and a black hole began twisting inside his gut. Bobby was right; they'd be screwed if they found all his gear in the trunk. He squeezed his hands into fists and his brow creased.

They managed to make it back to the motel in record time as the feeling of anticipation was beginning to claw at the insides of Dean's stomach. He hurried so the older man increased his speed to keep up.

Dean headed straight for the main reception where an elderly woman was sat with her eyes fixed on the old, crackling television on the desk. The back of the hunter's mind registered that she was so enthralled by a livestream of a church service.

"Have you seen a black Impala '67 drive through here?" He barked out before the woman had even pulled her eyes off the fuzzing screen. His green eyes bore into the side of her spectacled face.

She slowly turned her head as though her neck was controlled by mechanisms rather than muscle and flesh. Her eyes were cold and hard, marbles in their sockets. She squinted, suspiciously.

"What?"

Trying to hide his sigh, Dean spoke, "A black vintage car. Has it passed through?"

"How am I supposed to know?" Her eyes migrated back to the sermon. Her priorities clearly in a strict order.

The hunter had to bite back his tongue before turning to leave. He had some choice words for the woman but had better manners than to just speak them allowed.

---

"What now?" Bobby asked, allowing himself to rest the throbbing behind his knee caps by dropping onto his bed. It released a deep groan as the hunter put his weight into it. He pulled the bag off his back and his shoulders relaxed back into their natural position.

"I guess we will just-" He cut himself suddenly as though someone had stolen his words, "Shit, Sam!"

"And?" The older man frowned, creating deep creases in his forehead.

"Remember! I promised I'd meet Sam today and show him Baby." He groaned, messing up his hair as he combed his fingers through.

"Well, now you don't have the car so problem solved. Call up and cancel." Bobby wasn't usually one for playing an authoritative role when it came to Dean, he didn't want to become like the boy's father.

Dean pinched his lips together before a clear decision was made, "I'm gunna go up there and see him. If anyone could help in this town, it'd be Sam."

----

Bobby couldn't believe he'd been fooled into walking again but distraction came when they finally made it up to a huge house with large garden and driveway. The old man's jaw dropped. It was at least five times the size of his house.

"You work here?" Bobby hissed under his breath, fearful that someone might overhear. Was he even allowed on the premises?

Dean shrugged, he couldn't quite hide the pride that glimmered just beneath the surface, "It's a nice house." It was a good job in a nice house, he wasn't blind. He knew.

"Are you sure it's okay for me to be here?" The older hunter was hesitant. He wouldn't be impressed if some random man turned up on his door step so why should Mr Campbell.

"I hope he's home." Dean murmured as he leapt up the steps two at a time and was knocking on the large door without even acknowledging the older man's question.

He waited for Jessica to come to the door but to his surprise, the tall homeowner pulls it open. The man's mouth instantly forms a warm smile. He was still in his Sunday best with his head brushed back away from his face.

Dean couldn't help but notice how well Sam scrubbed up. His suit was well fitted and a type of smart-casual that only a few people can really pull off effectively. It eventuated his broader shoulders and tapered at his thin waist. Dean's tongue shot out to moisten his suddenly desert dry lips.

Before he'd even spoken a word, Sam's hand was clapping Dean on the back of the shoulder but his warm hazel eyes took a quick glance over at Bobby. It was obvious that he was quickly assessing the man despite the speed of his inspection. There was a brief moment of tension as Bobby sensed Sam's studying of him.

When his attention fell back on Dean his smile widened a little, "Dean." He welcomed the man warmly, "You must be Bobby." Sam offered a hand out to the hunter.

"Wait, how do you know Bobby?" Dean frowned, frantically searching for any evidence that he'd told Sam about his surrogate father.

The large man waved his hand about with a carefree grace, "Jessica mentioned him a while back. I have a good memory."

Dean nodded, the amount of stuff he'd told Jess was almost bordering on embarrassing. No wonder some of it has trickled through to the boss. Jessica and Sam were pretty close too so they probably spoke a lot during the day.

Bobby's brow furrowed slightly as his mind whirled and he analysed. He shrugged it off moments later when Sam opened the door wider to welcome them inside his home. The inside was just as grand as the outside. A large staircase in the centre of the pale room.

Sam and Dean were talking up ahead as they walked towards a room to the right of the stairs. They both stepped in sync as they knew their final destination and were focused completely on each other. Bobby knew Dean was interested in Sam and so far all he'd seen is evidence to suggest that Sam felt the same about the young hunter.

Bobby followed along after them, distracted by the extravagant room.

The kitchen was minimalist and the surfaces shone. They practically looked untouched in their utter perfection. Bobby's mind was cast back to his old wooden countertops with their worn scratches and cut marks. Sam's marble must have cost the young man a fortune.

"What would you like to drink?" Sam smiled at the older man, almost as though he was trying to win over his opinion.

Bobby felt himself calm slightly and he could no longer find it within himself to be suspicious of the tall stranger. Maybe it was his charm, smile or deep haze eyes that somehow brought the older man away from the edge of alertness.

"Black coffee would be great."

"Sure," He seemed pleased by their progress. He could also sense it: the relaxation and acceptance.

Sam turned to a coffee maker tucked away in the corner and, after a moment of finding the buttons, set it to life, creating the dark liquid. He seemed proud of his accomplishment even though it was minuscule.

"In my day, we had to make coffee ourselves." Bobby spoke up to fill the empty silence as everyone eyes the machine.

"I know," Sam smiled, "Those were the days."

The maker made a beeping noise when Bobby's mug was full so Sam carefully handed it over before starting on Dean's.

Dean leant against the island as he waited. He wanted to see Sam's car collection and was aware of a large garage outside the back yard which he guessed must house them. The thought of cars brought a sudden thought crashing down on him.

"Sam, my Impala got stolen!"

Sam burst to life, "Yes! I knew it!" The man seemed to fist pump the air, kind of uncharacteristically. He grabbed Dean's arm, "Quick, come." He pulled his towards the back door.

Bobby followed along awkwardly. He felt like the boys had known each other for years and his tagging long was intruding on their friendship. He joined them in the back yard anyway, not familiar enough with Sam yet to just sit in his kitchen alone.

Sam tugged Dean's arm until the hunter was stood in the middle of the gravel. This was when Sam told him to wait. Needless to say, Dean was confused but hope was blossoming within him. The taller man jogged on into the large garage lining the side of the garden and slipped inside quickly.

There was a deep grumble of a familiar engine as one of the garage doors rose up. Sam directed the classic car out with ease and parked it right beside Dean before stepping out.

Both hunters were gobsmacked. Where had Sam gotten the Impala?

"You've got Baby?" Joy, with a hint of suspicion, covered the young Winchester's tone. "Where did you get her?" He could feel relief pumping through his veins like a drug.

Sam leant his hip against the shining black of the door and Dean couldn't find it within himself to scold him, "This morning the guys from the clearing turned up to church service in this." He explained warmly, patting the roof, "I know every classic car on Deadwood's soil. When I saw that lot driving around an Impala, a car Dean Demane told me about not a week ago, I was obviously more than suspicious!"

"And they just gave it over?" Bobby scoffed.

The homeowner recoiled slightly, mildly offended by the old man's bluntness, "Of course not but reputation is important in an small town like Deadwood. I made it clear to them that I knew it was stolen and they were more then happy to hand over the vehicle as long as I didn't make a fuss." He smiled, dimples forming in his cheeks.

"Thank you so much." Dean seemed tense as though he were desperate to move closer to Sam but was restraining himself. "How long have you had it?" In truth, he wanted to run to Sam and hug him and kiss him! He was his saviour!

"Just a couple of hours. Couldn't find a number for you and you're not in the phone book." He seemed to ponder for a moment, "I'm sure Jess must have one."

Dean's brows furrowed into a frown as he considered something. He cast his mind back to the contents of the Impala on hunts he sometimes left weapons with easy access to ensure he always had a way out of a sticky situation. It was likely a machete or gun might be lying carelessly on the back seat or in the glove compartment.

Dean was about to speak, create an excuse for the violent items in his vehicle, when Sam's cell phone rang from the man's suit pocket. The man looked panicked for a second before taking a couple of steps away, giving the illusion of privacy, and answering the call. The hunters, being instinctively nosy, listened to the words murmured.

"Amy?" There was a pause, "Calm down, calm down! What's happened?"

Sam gestured over his shoulder to apologize to the two waiting men.

"When was this?" Anger boiled his words. Then he waited for her response, "They can't do that... They're not allowed. I'll be up there now. Get Brady there." He hung up and turned to his guests.

Large hands scrubbed at his weary face, a sigh broke from his lips, "I'm sorry, I gotta to shoot off. The busyness of life beckons but please, feel free to hang around for as long as you like. Check out the cars, see what's in the fridge or whatever!" He called as he began to rush back towards the house.

Within seconds the man was gone, eaten by the large building.

----

The garage was quiet aside from the sound of Dean's impressed 'ohhs' and 'ahhs'. Sam really had kept a good collection which must have cost him millions. Seven cars were lined up side by side in the extended garage, each in mint condition and barely looked a day out of the factory even though many of them were older than the hunter himself. They were either black or white and arranged in alternating order to create a type of pattern. Black, white, black, white, black...

Bobby was also inspecting the fine machines but less eagerly than his surrogate son. Permanently weary eyes ghosted over the streamlined cars without noticing the features that excited Dean. He'd always works with cars but didn't have such a passion for the classics. He'd grown up with most of them anyway.

A car separated them now when Bobby finally spoke again, "So, Sam seems nice..."

Dean glanced up just long enough to assess the face the older man was making; to ensure he wasn't being sarcastic, "I really like him. He's genuine, tries hard for everyone, you know?"

"...And he didn't care about the bloodied machete on the back seat?" He asked, seemingly out of the blue. Apparently Bobby had noticed the machete that was poking out from under a blue blanket.

There was a brief second of silence, "I guess he just didn't notice it. He just drove it back from the church."

There was a hum from Bobby, "I didn't think you'd go for the church types."

"What?" He straightened up, his attention fully on the whiskered man.

"You like him, right? It's fine but I didn't think you'd be into the church type." He shrugged, leaning down and pretending to take a sudden interest in the interior in front of him.

"I don't know... I mean, he's attractive but it seems unlikely that anything will happen between us. He's a church goer but he doesn't feel churchy. He has this earthy feel to him that just feels right."

"You're in deep." It didn't seem like something the man was usually say so Dean couldn't work out whether he was being sarcastic or just blunt.

Dean could feel his face growing red. Luckily, Bobby was already avoiding eye contact, "He's nice. That's all, okay?"

---

The trees rustled in the breeze and the wind flew straight up Dean's jean leg, making him shiver. Bobby had a thick jacket on so he seemed mostly unaffected by the evening chill. It wasn't as late as the night before but a cold wind had moved in across the state.

"How do we always end up in the same position?" Dean asked himself. Trekking though woodlands as the sun began to set. It's the common scene for a hunter, no matter what they were on the trail of.

"Shhh," Bobby scolded him. They were getting too close to the clearing for the young man to start questioning his life choices out loud. They definitely knew these people were up to something supernatural but they had to pin it down.

A familiar voice, breaking through the trees from the clearing, stopped them both in their tracks.

"Right so you guys will keep outta trouble for now?" The voice was light, non-confrontational.

The hunter rushed closer to the clearing so they could peer through the undergrowth and observe. As they got closer, they could make out Sam talking with one of the original enchanters from before.

"Sure, we promise." It sounded fake and forced, like a child lying to a teacher they visibly hated.

As Sam began to walk away, he murmured beneath his breath, "Right, like hell you do." Sarcasm was heavy in his tongue.

"I heard that!" The cult member called. He was a significant distance from Dean's boss. The two hunter's exchanged tense looks. It would be a pain if Sam began to accidentally muddle himself in in their hunt. He needed to stop caring for people and ignore the cult, Dean thought.

Sam froze, his eyes darted out to the trees lining the wood and frowned. He almost seemed to look directly into Dean's eyes before shaking his head and just moving on. The hunters released a tense breath.

"I was counting on it, Terry." Sam spoke darkly as he jumped into his Ford Mustang and pulled away quickly. It seemed that the hunters and local people were fed up with this cult which had attached itself to the town like a tumor.

The man left stood alone peered into the woods before shrugging and stalking back into his house.

There was a brief silence as they ensured no other cult members were lurking about before they began to back away so they could begin discussion on what they'd just witnessed.

Sam was a human so he'd be one of the "Passives" the cult wanted to eliminate. It seemed strange for them to allow him to come into their space but they were trying to keep a low profile so murdering a key public figure wouldn't be great for them.

"We'd better keep Sam away from them." Bobby commanded first.

Dean could only agree.

---

Books were strewn across the motel room as the day after the stakeout they'd gotten every book on witchcraft and enchanters within a 50 mile radius. They had to search far as this town had no signs of the supernatural at all. There wasn't even a Supernatural fiction section in the local bookstore; not even a single copy of Twilight.

Bobby was positioned at the small table with the books open around him while Dean was reclined on his bed with a book elevated for his verdant eyes to scan.

Dean had phoned in sick so was desperately avoiding the part of town where he'd usually work while he researched with Bobby. If he got caught skipping, he wouldn't doubt that he'd be fired on the spot. Especially since they want him out anyway.

The time passed slowly and before they knew it the skies were tainted a darkening purple. Bobby was staying in the same motel a few doors down so he bid Dean goodnight before heading off to bed.

It was only seconds later that Dean dumped his book onto the floor and rolled under his thick blanket.

Chapter 5 Chapter Text

"Have you spoken to the big bad boss this morning?" Jessica asked as she swept passed Dean at an impressive speed.

The hunter glanced over his shoulder from where he was hands and knees on the floor of Sam's large library. There was a strange red wine-like stain that had soaked into the cream carpet a few months before. His task was to try and make it fade or, if all else fails, move a plant pot to cover it.

"Uhh, no. Why?" He asked, wiping the sweat from his forehead onto the back of his marigold gloves. He crouched back on his hunches and peered up at her as she searched the book shelves for something. He prayed this wasn't about his getting fired or skipping work.

"He's in a mood out in his garage and I thought you might be able to help." Jessica mentioned casually, not even looking at Dean.

"How am I supposed to help?" He frowned, creating creases in his forehead. Sam was his boss and Jessica had known the man for years longer than Dean.

The woman shrugged, selected the required book and said over her shoulder, "He seems to like you." She was out of the room again, leaving silence behind her. She really was a tornado.

Dean peeled off his gloves, dumped them by the bucket and stood awkwardly. It didn't seem like correct manners to just simply abandon his duties but Jess had heavily hinted that he should go and help out.

The walk over the yard was tense as he didn't know what to say to one of the kindest and sweetest men he'd ever met. It didn't seem totally impossible that he might be developing a crush on his first ever real boss. He just prayed that he wouldn't tragically screw up.

He pushed open the door to the dark garage. The only light shone in through the small windows and from inside one of the cars further along the line. Dean's interest was instantly peeked and he began to make his away towards the car.

It was a pure crystal white 1965 Ford Mustang with the classic black stripes, the small amount of light that penetrated through the windows shone off the hood of the car; it gleamed as though it'd never even been outside.

Sam was in the driver's seat of the vehicle with his head leant back against the headrest. The brightness from the small light illuminated Sam's face in an almost haunting way. It highlighted his strong bone structure but also heavy bags under his eyes. He seemed unaware of the hunter's presence in his space; alternately, he may have chosen to ignore him.

Dean knew what he wanted to do next, he quickly opened the passenger side door and slid in before he could have a change of heart.

Sam didn't even twitch.

Green eyes scanned the interior, subconsciously giving the car owner a chance to speak; throw him out the car or open the conversation. He waited until his curiosity and his discomfort for silence forced him into breathing out the words.

"Nice car you have here." He winced. It sounded insincere and forced, everything he hoped to avoid.

Nothing moved aside from Sam's lips and throat. He swallowed, "Can you tell I love Mustangs? This one is my favorite. She's always been here for me."

Dean felt relief wash over him. Maybe his boss pitted his poor comforting skills so threw him a bone. Sam didn't feel shut off but instead seemed open to converse.

"Is everything okay?" He managed to ask.

Sam moved: opening his eyes, moving his head back straight and running his tongue over his lips. Dean's eyes stared at the graceful movement. The tall man turned his face to look into Dean's eyes.

"Did Jess send you? You can't tell that girl anything." He let out a soft chuckle, it felt heavy.

The hunter's palms were sweaty so he wiped them down his black work trousers, "About you being upset?"

The sides of Sam's eyes creased, "No, about liking you." A smile curled his lips before he leant forward and touched their lips together softly.

Dean leant into the kiss instantly, his stomach turning into a butterfly hatchery. Leaning his head, he wanted more and to be closer to Sam. The politician pulled back, eager to keep whatever was happening at a pace where no regrets could be made. The hunter, on the other hand, was eager to keep this at a pace where they'd soon be naked. He whined when Sam separated them.

"You're okay with that?" Sam asked, calm as ever. He studied the other man carefully.

Dean could feel a red blush on his cheeks, "Uh, yeah. Definitely." His mind was useless.

The taller man smiled gently before resting his head back again.

Dean frowned, "You're stressed out?" It wasn't surprising considering how he was always running about for his job. Never resting before he was on his way to the next meeting.

"I guess you could say that." He sighed a moment before studying Dean. He looked as though he was trying to figure something out or choose on a dilemma, "We've been having problems with the families that live up in Pine Woods. They're just general trouble makers."

"Is that where you went on Sunday?" He pretended as though he hadn't been hiding in the undergrowth watching the man. He'd known exactly where he was but admitting that wouldn't be the best move.

"Yeah, they'd been trying to cause tension between members of the community. Trying to create rifts between strong pillars of the society." He explained with a vague wave of the hand. "I try to intercept but we're not on great terms at the moment."

"They don't sound like people you really want around." Dean tried to sooth. "I can see why you'd be stressed." Especially considering how they've probably hexed the whole town and all its members, Dean added mentally.

"I'm sure we'll get them sorted out again soon. It's not the first time we've butt heads." He admitted.

There was companionable silence as they both digested the new information and took it in. It was only minutes later that Dean remembered he was supposed to be working.

He pulled out his cell and scribbled his number onto the back of Sam's hand quickly and without looking to avoid the embarrassment. He began speak again.

"I've got to get back to work but please text or ring me if you need to talk or... Just fancy meeting up." He suggested before quickly leaving the car and speed walking back to the house. He made his way straight to the library to avoid Jess. His face was burning red due to the brave move of basically suggesting he wanted to go on a date with his boss.

He had dropped down onto his hands and knees and was in the mid of sliding his gloves back on when a noise from behind him made him spin around. Jessica was sat in one of the plush chairs with the book in her hands. She'd been so still when he'd entered that the hunter had completely overlooked her.

"So," She leant forward, "How'd it go?"

---

"Dean! We're trying to save him, not let you get with him!" Bobby's disapproval was more than clear. The older hunter hadn't even touched the cooling stew in from of him.

Dean's phone buzzed on the surface and Bobby's eyes were instantly on the device, scowling.

-Thank you for everything today.- S

Dean read it quickly before placing it back on the table and stabbing a potato on the end of his fork. He purposely avoided his surrogate father's gaze.

"Is that him?" He asked, "That better not be him."

"It's him, okay? He was just saying thank you." Dean mumbled around his food.

The diner was busy but that didn't seem to make the older man hush his voice. The waitress had given them more than one curious glance since they'd been seated, mainly due to Bobby's anger. Most of the other patrons seemed oblivious or they were all particularly good at subtle eavesdropping.

"Thank you? For what?" The hunter huffed out. His face was getting redder and redder; eventually he'd burst.

"He was stressed and I just sat and helped him work though some stuff." He avoided eye contact. He knew he hadn't really done that much to help but Sam seemed less stressed.

The old man squinted at him with suspicious radiating from every pore. After an eternity he spoke, "Did ya kiss him?" He spoke quietly.

Dean's skin began to tingle as the red flush rose up from the collar of his T-shirt and to the very tops of his ears. He refused to answer but that was enough of a response for the other man.

"Dean!" He hissed, leaning forward so nobody could listen in, "This isn't a normal hunt, we're gunna be working in this for months, and Sam isn't a normal person, he's your boss. You screw up and he'll fire you. That's without mentioning his reputation around town, nobody would dare rehire you afterwards!" Bobby wouldn't usually be against this relationship but, in this context, he really couldn't be more anti.

Dean sighed, "I can get some real information out of this guy. The cult has been a problem for the town for years, he told me all about it. If I get closer to Sam then he might reveal more."

Dean picked up his cell and rapidly typed out a text message. Bobby watched in with wide, fearful eyes.

-Did you want to meet up for a date sometime? For a drink or perhaps dinner?- D

The old hunter twitched, "What did you just do?"

"Trying to organize a date..." He tried not to convey the nerves he felt in his gut. He wasn't exactly keen on getting rejected.

There was silence and Bobby's brain struggled to comprehend why his son would do such a thing and almost give him a heart attack, "Why would you even think-"

The cell phone vibrated.

-I'm free Thursday night? ;) -S

The young man smirked. Butterflies took wing in his gut and excitement fluttered through his chest but he kept his expression neutral; there's no need to let Bobby know that Dean really was interested in the tall man.

"We're going on a date Thursday Night."

Bobby gently rested his head against the table and took in long calming breaths. He couldn't understand why Dean would put the whole hunt at risk just because he had the hots for some guy. Surely there were plenty of guys out there for Dean to choose from. Why did he have to set his sights on the one that plays a key part in Deadwood?

---

Green eyes raked up and down his body for the third time. He was pretty sure that this outfit was the one but something still didn't feel right. He twisted in the mirror as the line in his brow was exaggerated further.

"Dean, you look fine. The other two were also fine." Bobby groaned from where he was sat against the headboard of Dean's double bed on Thursday night. It seemed like a bizarre day to go out but Bobby wasn't going to judge.

The Winchester had dragged the older man in to give advice on his outfit but Bobby was not the man to ask on this as he really knew very little on fashion. It had been decades since he'd been on a date so trends had certainly moved on since then.

"Why are you worried anyway?" He asked, "This is all for the case, right?" Sceptical, he frowned.

"Of course but it has to look believable." The lie was obvious but they both ignored it.

"Just go, you're gunna be late."

"I should be back before midnight!" He said, last minute.

Bobby practically ushered the young man out of the motel in a bid to get him on the road towards picking Sam up. He only had ten minutes to drive across town before he'd be late and that really wouldn't be a great way to butter Sam up to get the information.

The older man sighed and shrugged before retreating back to his own room. Dean probably wouldn't be back for a few hours anyway.

---

The grand door opened when the Impala began gliding up the drive way and Sam stepped out onto the porch way. His long hair was swept back behind his ears and his gentle smile was pulling at his lips.

His shirt was way too tight but Dean wasn't exactly complaining. He was glad that he wasn't the only one to put the effort in because that would be embarrassing.

The tall man strode down to the Impala confidently and folded himself inside.

The smell of his cologne filled the car but Sam's rustic woody smell still prevailed over it. Dean didn't understand how he noticed that but he did know that it probably meant bad news for the case. Bobby would be mad if Dean fell in love with someone on a hunt; it would just complicate everything. Deep down, he understood that.

"Where do you fancy, food? Drinks?" He asked eagerly.

There was a moment of silence as everything waited on Sam. In hindsight, Dean realised that perhaps pre organising this would have helped out quite a bit. The tall man seemed to know his answer but waited while he ran his tongue over his dry lips.

"After the day I've had, drinks sound great." Sam gave him a mischievous smile that Dean didn't quite understand.

The hunter was disappointed but didn't really want to accept that he was. Drinks carried less commitment than dinner; you can leave drinks at anytime but you were stuck at the table for at least one course. Did this mean Sam didn't have high hopes for the date? Although, he is the one that initiated the kiss. Was Dean severely over analysing this?

"Sure, you'll have to pick one as I don't really know what's about." He instructed as he started up the car.

That wasn't a whole truth; Dean knew a couple of bars by his motel but he didn't feel as though Sam would want to drink somewhere like that. He clearly had money so would probably choose some upmarket place with sleek tables and classily dimmed lights (Not just darkness due to broken bulbs which Dean was accustomed to).

"I know a place," He smirked, "I think you'll love it just as much as I do."

Hazel eyes shone, holding a thousand promises. Dean resisted the urge to blush.

---

This suddenly explained an awful lot.

"So this is why you're not in some fancy suit." Dean mumbled as he followed Sam's lead and pulled himself from the Impala. His boots crunched on top of the gravel.

"You think I like wearing those things?" Sam laughed, he grabbed Dean's hand and pulled him forward, "I'm a locals boy at heart." The heat from Sam's hand sent bolts of electricity up the hunter's arm. He felt like a teenager with a crush.

Dean allowed himself to be pulled towards the doors on the front of a old bar, similar to one that Dean had visited over the last few months. A couple of motorbikes sat out front but it didn't feel rough, it felt worn but well loved.

A few yellowish lights managed to illuminate the name 'Palmer's'. It appeared to be an old family run establishment and had that all American vibe which all rustic bars seemed to automatically carry.

Sam was rambling about something, his features alight with passion, but Dean had tuned out as he inspected the surroundings. It was his natural hunter instinct but he did feel guilty for skipping out on Sam.

"You're gunna love it." The tall man pulled Dean through the double doors and suddenly the lively ruckus was silenced. It was nothing aside from local energy and the bar was filled with positivity.

The smell of liquor was strong but not overpowering as it washed over the hunter.

The silence was all consuming as not even a fly dared to buzz in the thickness of it. As was common in small towns, every eye had turned to the door to inspect the new arrival. Usually, a mass welcoming would occur for their friend and neighbor but Dean was new, Dean was an outsider. The twitchy locals seemed comforted by Sam's presence.

Self conscious, Dean tried to pull his hand out of Sam's grip. The man may be a figurehead in the town but that doesn't mean that every patron in this bar would accept their homosexuality. Dean had seem the ugly end of small town homophobia on more than one occasion so was more than hesitate around the locals.

Sam turned with a confused frown but, within seconds, had figured out what was bothering his date, "It's fine," He whispered, taking a closer step, before standing back to address the bar, "Hey, guys. This is Dean and he's new to the area so be nice to him."

Dean felt like a child on their first day at a new school with the whole class staring at him. They seemed to assess whether he'd be trouble before turning away and continuing their previous conversations; their curiosity satisfied.

"Sorry about that," Sam whispered in his ear, "They're not particularly used to new faces here in Deadwood." He guided the shorter man towards the bar where the bartender looked smug.

He seemed to have some inside joke with Sam, their eyes met and they both low-key chuckled. Dean hoped for an answer when they began to speak. Sam leant on the bar which was surprisingly clear from sticky substances which seemed almost commonplace for Deadwood.

The man kept a well groomed moustache on his top lip which moved slightly when he spoke, "I'll never get over your command of people, Sam."

"They say charisma is a gift."

"Comes along with the curse." He murmured, "What can I get y'all?"

"Whiskey for me," Sam answered.

It took Dean a few moments to give a response as he was mildly confused, "uh, just beer. Thanks."

"Coming right up." The man knocked his knuckles against the polished bar as he went off to pull their drinks together.

Sam turned to be closer to Dean. The hunter couldn't help the smile that grew stronger with Sam's attention, like water to a thirsty flower. The political figure made him feel special almost as though he wasn't just some hunter that nobody knew but a real hero.

There was silence for a while but their eyes didn't leave each other for that whole time. Sam was practically seeing into the older man's soul by the time they were interrupted but their drinks being brought over.

The bartender spoke under his breath to Sam, "Could I speak with you a sec?" Sam graciously agreed and moved further down the bar to communicate in private.

Dean thought that he should be offended that Sam was halfway down the bar talking town business while on their date but the man's brows were furrowing further and further with every moment he listened so it was clearly bad news. His work never stopped, just like Dean's work in the supernatural.

His cell buzzed against his thigh.

-Any information yet?- B

The hunter rolled his eyes at the impatience of his surrogate father before typing out a rapid response to satisfy the old man.

-Not yet. Only just ordered drinks. Hoping to get him to open up a bit with alcohol.- D

A gentle hand on his shoulder made the hunter jump. He spun around quickly, always on high alert. A small brunette woman with a large smile was stood awkwardly next to him. Despite her sudden appearance shocking Dean, she wasn't holding a flirtatious stance so Dean turned his body, opening conversation.

"Im Paula." She held her hand out. Dean shook it, "I was new here last year so I understand what it can be like." She slipped onto the bar stool beside the hunter, "So what's your deal?" She smiled.

"Excuse me?" Frowning, he leant closer as though he hadn't heard what she'd said. He glanced back at Sam, deep in conversation, and accepted that he probably wasn't going to get any help this time. "My deal?"

"Yeah or do you not like talking about it?" Paula winced dramatically, fearful that she'd offended him. "Some people feel it's impolite or something." Waving her hand about vaguely.

"My deal..." He considered. "I'm working up in Sam's house with Jess."

She nodded her head as though everything had suddenly fallen into place, "That makes sense. He seems to like your kind. He's good to you guys."

The hunter recoiled, "My kind?"

"Hard-workers." Sam interrupted, making Paula jerk her head to peer up at him, "Those who work hard get treated well." He shrugged, easily. Patting Paula on the shoulder he subtly encouraged her to move on. "Jess could see it in you as soon as you walked though the door for the interview. She knows I value that quality in people. It's how I got where I am today."

Dean nodded, "So you're a classic rags to riches story?" He was genuinely interested in the man's past since he didn't really know much about him outside of his work.

Sam snorted before turning red, embarrassed by the noise he made, "I guess you can say that."

"Your family?" Dean prompted him to continue.

"Um, it's not the usual... Family get up." Sam murmured, sipping the whiskey. Dean raised an eyebrow, doubting that it could be any worse than his upbringing. "I just had my father, I guess, for the first few years but he was a cruel and evil man... but he was killed so I was this orphan for a while. I'm lucky I found somewhere to take me in." His deep frown was relieved slightly when he spoke of the place that saved him. "But I saw that sceptical look, what was your childhood like then?"

He sighed, ran his hands though his short hair and took a gulp of beer. This would be one of the first times he'd ever confined in anyone outside his 'family'.

"My mum died in a house fire when I was just four. It took a real bad impact on my old man. Like, I know he tried to do what was best for me but," He shook his head sadly, "He was so consumed in guilt, revenge and grief that he was almost blinded by it. That's why he dragged me all about the country." It wasn't a lie, Dean just bent the truth to fit a civilian's life.

"Revenge? It was arson?" Sam frowned, horrified.

Dean nodded slowly,"Yeah, my dad wanted revenge on the bastard."

There was a heartbeat of silence between them.

"Did he get what he was looking for?" Sam spoke gently.

"Oh yeah, Azazel paid the price." Dean knew he sounded smug and he knew it was wrong but he couldn't find it within himself to care.

"... Azazel?" Recognition lit Sam's features. The man leant his head to the side like a confused puppy. His swept back hair fell toward his shoulder under the weight of gravity.

Tense silence, "You know of him?"

"Well, he's mentioned in the Bible but aside from that." He replied quickly. Sam sounded thoughtful, "Thats not exactly a name you'd want to name your child..." He murmured. "It's all associated with the scapegoat rite and, in some cases, fallen angels." He spoke like he was reciting for no purpose other than to vocalise his thoughts.

Dean couldn't help but chuckle, "I forgot you were a church goer."

Sam smiled down at the surface of the bar but Dean could tell his mind was still turning over Azazel. He decided to distract the man, no point him getting lodged in Biblical thoughts while Dean was trying to engage in conversation.

"You have a strong faith?" He kept his question relaxed and causal, knowing that some people found religion a private subject.

Sam seemed to glance at Dean in the side of his eyes but smirked none the less, "Without my faith, what would I have?"

Dean pouted in disagreement, "You have your house, your job and your wealth. You have a lots of stuff that isn't your faith, Sam. I'm pretty sure it was you who said that'd reputation is practically the be all and end all in a town like Deadwood..." He paused, "Maybe not those exact words."

"Did I say that?" He pulled a face, "We know what they say, 'Those who cannot be certain of their place in heaven are the ones that harbour worldly gratification.'"

"You're not certain of your place in heaven?" Dean didn't understand how Sam could doubt himself. He may live a lavish lifestyle but he was a good man at heart and did everything in his power to help those around him. Surely that is enough to book a spot with the big JC?

Sam chuckled, a laugh without humor, "I'm almost certain of my place elsewhere." He nodded, acceptance filling his eyes.

"That's not a positive outlook." When had he suddenly become the advocate for positivity when it comes to the afterlife?

"I suppose not," he shrugged." But what about you? You're far more interesting." He sipped at his whiskey.

Dean thought for a moment, not wanting to blurt out the wrong thing which would lead to him either looking like an idiot or a bunch of suspicious questions. Both were unacceptable results so he planned out his words first.

"I believe there is a God and Angels and Satan." He didn't mention how he'd met a couple of angels personally, "But I just believe that they no longer give a fuck about us. Why would he? I guess, I believe but I'm not a man of faith."

It took Sam a handful of seconds to process Dean's way of thinking. It made enough sense.

"So you don't attend church?"

"No," He laughed, "And you're not about to convert me." Sam raised his hands in mock surrender and chuckled along. A question sparked in Dean's mind, "Why do you still bother going if you believe you're destined for Hell?"

Sam smiled, a smile that said he was proud of Dean for raising the question. As though, too many people had just overlooked, or not cared, about this plot hole in his beliefs. Hazel eyes sparkled making Dean remember why he loved starting into the man's eyes.

"Because there is always hope. Maybe I'll arrive at the gates of heaven and they'll let me in for just trying real hard rather than just kicking my rancid soul down." He shrugged, it made sense to him. Many people had dismissed his theory by telling him that it was pointless or a useless venture, "Anyway, I have a good time. It's a great time to build the relationship with all the locals."

Dean smiled at Sam's second explanation. He was about to ask more, finding Sam so interesting and full of knowledge when the man himself interrupted.

"So, enough about me. Tell me more about you." Dean couldn't turn down Sam while he was giving Dean massive puppy eyes.

The hunter sighed, "Where to begin..."

Chapter 6 Chapter Text

It was several hours later and the bar was growing emptier by the minute. Everyone had homes and families to return to but Sam and Dean were wrapped up inside their own bubble. The alcohol had loosened them up so now they felt completely at home together.

Sam's hand was resting on Dean's leg as it had been for quite a while. Dean didn't mind, in fact he invited the contact with his flirtatious behaviour. Dean leant forward for a kiss while he was still sober enough to control himself and also be able to recall what had happened when he woke up in the morning.

Sam's mouth welcomed him, slanting his head to deepen their kiss, their tongue explored eagerly. Dean's tongue flicking across the roof of Sam's mouth. Dean's hands explored under Sam's shirt where solid muscle was hidden beneath soft, cool skin. The other man had his hands holding Dean's head in place.

There was a cough from behind the bar and the bartender was there with a proud smirk. For him, it was like seeing your brother finally finding a partner. He tried to rein in his grin but wasn't completely successful.

"I've called y'all a cab- I'm closing up for the night." He informed the young men.

"Thanks!" Dean beamed at him, the alcohol making him an enthusiastic socialite.

"Thank you." Sam said after Dean and began to guide the hunter towards the door where the cab would be any minute. There was only one other couple in the bar who were gathering their belongings to leave.

They stumbled out onto the sidewalk, clinging to each other for the joy the contact brought more than for balance. They found a pole by the road and Sam leant against it to take some of his weight and allow him to not be solely focused on remaining mostly upright.

The air was cold but neither men paid it much attention.

They kissed again and Sam found himself chuckling against his date's lips. He really did feel giddy from alcohol, good company and too much kissing. Alcohol never sat with him well anyway. Two beers and he'd be on the floor so he always tried to limit his drinking.

"What'cha laughing at?" Dean asked, studying Sam's face for the answer.

"I haven't had this much fun in a long time." He answered truthfully. His life was stressful and he often struggled to wind down at the end of the night but perhaps Dean could change that.

Dean thought for a brief moment, "Me neither." He smiled, pulling Sam's collar so their mouths could connect again.

---

"Shhhhh!" Sam laughed as he fell through the door, his giggles were making his coordination terrible and the longer Dean allowed the alcohol to seep into his system the more humorous he was finding everything.

"Why are we whispering when nobody can hear us?" The hunter pointed out with a smile.

Sam stood up straight and thought though Dean's point, "You're right!" He kicked off his shoes by the side of the door, the place where his shoes certainly didn't belong and Dean knew that as a fact.

His cold hand grabbed Dean's and he pulled the shorter man towards the large stairs. The hunter tried to hang back slightly as he was guided towards the part of the house he'd never managed to enter before. Sam noticed his hesitation so tugged harder.

"Come on, Dean." He stumbled but didn't fall.

"Sam, am I allowed up here?" He whispered, green eyes scanning the new perspective from near the top of the stairs.

There was a pause as Sam's mind span. He hurried to think why Dean wouldn't be allowed upstairs, "Yeah... Why wouldn't you be?"

He shrugged, feeling stupid and his face was beginning to flush increasingly red, "I've never been up here and Jess always seems to send me elsewhere..." He hoped that pulling Jess into this wouldn't get her in trouble.

The homeowner rolled his eyes and pulled Dean upwards, he stopped briefly to kiss him, "Ignore her. She worries too much; she's gunna get grey hair." He guided Dean to the top of the stairs and turned left. The wide corridor was long, glancing back only confirmed to Dean that it also went very far in the opposite direction.

Dark wooden doors lined the hallway and Sam stopped outside one about halfway down. Stopping, he turned around to Dean and bit his lip, concerned.

"Are you okay with this happening?" Sam's forehead was creased in worry. He didn't want to pressure Dean into anything he didn't want. He recognised that he was in a position of authority so wanted to give Dean the power to reject him.

The hunter's lips curled into a mischievous smirk, "You bet."

---
Sam pushed open the door and Dean's mouth was on him in seconds. The tall man gasped but was instantly returning the man's kisses with equal force. His heart began to race.

Dean was encouraging him back towards his large king size bed and Sam was more than happy to go. Their lips were pressed together and tongues inter twined.

A moan broke from Sam's throat as Dean pulled tightly on his hair and the back of his legs hit the bed, making him fall back. He reached up and pulled Dean down on top of him, kissing him again once they were at the same level.

Long fingers began undoing Dean's shirt buttons as Dean began to take off Sam's shirt too. They hurried and rushed, eager to have their flushed skin touching. Dean's shirt was discarded first and Sam spend a few precious seconds running his hands down the hunter's firm muscles and soft stomach. His thumb brushed Dean's nipple as he patiently waited for his own shirt to be removed.

Once Sam was free of the material, Dean bent over and dropped sloppy kisses along his torso and up his neck. He knew that he might be leaving bruises but he continued anyway until he reached Sam's mouth. The taller man's hands were pulling him closer.

They kissed as their hands wandered, exploring for the first time. The hunter froze when his hands ghosted over a line of risen skin under Sam's left set of ribs and stretched down to just about belly button level. Dean broke the kiss to peer at the man lying beneath him. Concern and confusion sparked in green eyes.

"I was stabbed." Sam panted.

Dean frowned, he had tens of scars on his own body but none were as large as Sam's one, "It must have hurt like a bitch." He tried to regain normal breathing. He wondered how the kind man had been stabbed. Who would do such a thing?

"It doesn't matter right now." Sam answered, impatient to continue. He gently moved the hunter's hands away from the scar tissue.

He pulled Dean back so they could kiss again. Moaning and grunting, they couldn't produce words due to their mouths being locked together.

Dean's pants were growing increasingly tight and he was determined to have them off. He began to take them off but Sam took over, placing gentle kisses along the V of Dean's torso as his hands worked. The taller man pulled his out of the way too in a quick action.

Sam flipped them so he was on top before shuffling down the bed so he was closer to his lover's cock. His smirk was predatory and hazel eyes gleamed with dark mischief.

His tongue licked a long strip from the base of Dean's cock up to the very tip before drawing a line along the slit. The elder man dropped his head back onto the pillows with a husky groan breaking from within him. His fingers tangled within Sam's long locks.

Sam looked up to gage his lover's reaction before bringing Dean's whole dick into his mouth. He sucked and palmed his tongue against the shaft. The action sent the other man into a frenzy; panting and pulling tighter on Sam's hair. His hips began to automatically start moving, thrusting into Sam's warm mouth.

"I need you." Dean ground out through clenched teeth.

Either he hadn't gotten laid in too long or Sam knew just how to get him worked up as he couldn't remember the last time his heart has been beating so fast. He could feel himself loosing control one kitten lick at a time. He could feel himself being pulled closer to the edge by Sam but the man suddenly stopped.

Before Dean had a chance to complain, Sam was on top of him and had rolled them so the hunter was on top. The tall man slung his arms around Dean's neck to pull him closer before whispering against his lips,

"Condoms are in the top drawer." He purred before pulling the man down for another kiss.

Sam lifted his abdomen so he was able to grind against his lover whilst pulling him closer. Sam let his mouth fall open as he moaned. The sound echoed off the walls. Dean was quickly learning that Sam wasn't quiet in the bedroom but he liked that. Sam was fulfilling his wildest fantasies.

Eager to move on, the hunter leant across and searched through the top drawer. He found the little packets easily and ripped one open in his teeth. He rolled it on quickly before moving back to kissing Sam. One hand travelled lower to stroke Sam and make sure he was ready.

"How do you want me?" Sam bit his lip as Dean's hand moved on his member.

The hunter wasn't ashamed that he liked to be in control in and out of the bedroom. He just didn't imagine that Sam would be the type to take direction during sex. He kissed him sloppily.

"Just like this." He mumbled, "I want to see you when you come."

Sam pulled his legs up higher on the bed and Dean began working him open gently. No matter how much he needed this, he wasn't willing to hurt Sam. Knowing how it would burn, Dean continued to kiss Sam and stroke him to take the edge off.

It wasn't nearly long enough before Sam pulled his mouth away to stutter, "I'm ready. I need it." He panted, a thin cover of sweat on his forehead.

Dean pushed himself into Sam, revelling in the tightness and warmth. He froze stockstill, not daring to move until Sam had adjusted to the sudden intrusion. Only seconds later Sam was nodded and shifting his body to encourage Dean to move.

The hunter thrust in and out, hitting the bundle of nerves within Sam almost every time. The tall man grasped onto Dean's shoulders and his nails left long scratches on the flesh of his back.

Dean's heart was racing, he could feel the pounding in his ears. Sam's body was bringing him closer and closer to the edge. His calloused hands ran over Sam's broad muscular chest as he caught the man's lips in his again.

The hunter began to stroke Sam's cock again, tipping him over the edge only moments later. Sam came with his head thrown back in ecstasy, white cum splattered up his stomach and chest.

The sight of Sam coming to utter completion and his body tightening around Dean's cock caused the hunter himself to come into Sam. He collapsed down on the other man, his lips mouthing Sam's name against his come splattered chest.

The tall man wrapped his arms around him to hold him still as they caught their breath.

---
The bed was warm and Dean was enjoying just being beside another person again. Sam's head was lying on his chest with his long arms wrapped around the hunter's torso. Sam smelt like sweat and a musky scent which was purely him. The hunter dropped a kiss onto the crown of Sam's head and smiled. His fingertips drew patterns on Sam's cool back.

Sam let out a content sign as he embraced the older man. It had been a long time since he'd allowed himself to get so close to a person without fully considering the consequences. He didn't want to dwell on it now though as he felt much happier than he had in years.

"Will you stay?" Sam asked, big hazel eyes peering up at Dean. It was late and Dean could go home if he wanted but Sam didn't want him to.

"Of course," Dean promised, pulling Sam closer to him. His fingers carded through Sam's long hair.

Another sigh, somewhat akin to relief left Sam as he let his eyes fall shut. He really was exhausted so pulled the blanket over them, ready to sleep.

Dean smiled, he felt relaxed and happy. Somehow Sam made him feel at home and complete. The hunter closed his eyes and was asleep within mere seconds. It had be a while since he'd been in such a large and comfortable bed.

---

Sam was awake when Jessica rushed into the room. He really didn't need as much sleep as most people so had spent the last few hours just appreciating the soft rise and fall of Dean's chest and pondering what would happen next between them.

Jessica wasn't in the least surprised when she saw her boss and Dean curled around each other in Sam's large bed. The tension between them had been growing thicker over the last few months and Sam had revealed her that they had a date the night before.

"Sam." Jessica hissed, not knowing whether he was awake.

Sam peered up at her with a slight frown, "Jess?" She instantly knew Sam had been awake for sometime.

The hunter was jolted out of his sleep by whispering voices but he remained stock still, not giving away that he'd woken up. He listened carefully and could feel Sam moving to sit up.

"There's an angry man at the door asking for you." She sounded hesitant and unsure of what she should do. She hovered by the doorway, biting her lip.

Sam groaned, heavy and tired. There was a massive list of people that could be mad at him as lots of people were against his work and what he did in the town. He wriggled away from Dean, trying not to shake him too much, before standing and stretching up. Jess made a tutting sound from across the room.

"You might want to put some clothes on first, Sam." Sass dripped from every word.

The tall man glanced down at his naked form and chuckled, "Don't pretend to be embarrassed. I've known you for way too long for this to be awkward."

She sighed, used to Sam's charms, and left the room to continue with her early morning tasks. The room was filled with the sound of material against skin when she left as Sam hurried to look presentable for the visitor.

Curious, Dean silently vowed to find out who was at the door and why he was so angry at Sam. Once the other man was out of the room he would follow and wait at the top of the stairs to discover the truth. It didn't seem as though Sam was going to wake him up anyway.

The door clicked shut quietly as Sam was still trying to ensure he didn't wake the sleeping man. As soon as the sound echoed across the room, Dean was slipping out of bed and tugging on his tight trousers; they'd seemed like a good idea the night before. He stumbled towards the corridor, throwing his shirt on as he went.

A loud voice was coming from the entrance down the stairs. Dean hovered at the top of the stairs, concealed by the corner of the wall.

---

Sam was genuinely surprised to see who was waiting just inside the door. He looked cautious and mildly out of place with his beaten old cap and work boots. Sam wasn't unhappy to see him though so smiled warmly.

"Bobby?" He called once he reached the bottom of the stairs. He held out a hand in preparation for a handshake as he approached the man. "What a surprise to see you here."

"Where's Dean?" He hissed coldly, turning his body away from the homeowner slightly. His eyes were dark and threatening. Sam was good enough at reading social cues to know Bobby could snap any second if under the wrong conditions. The tall man changed his approach. He could deal with this, he reminded himself, he is a people person after all.

Stopping a metre or so from the visitor, Sam changed from warm to concerned and comforting. He'd always had a good control of his emotions so could easily connect with people, "What's wrong, Bobby?" Sam spoke gently. He gestured towards the stairs, "Dean is-" He was interrupted.

"Dean is right here." Dean spoke, stepping around the corner and down the stairs.

Bobby flushed red in deeper anger. Once the young hunter was close enough, the old man jumped forward to snag the man's wrist and pulled him out of Sam's house, as though he was a naughty child. Sam moved forward to help but Dean waved him off and shot him an apologetic look. If Bobby was this mad then he had to have done something.

Sam stood on his porch way as Bobby encouraged Dean up into the passenger side of his truck before climbing in too and driving off.

The tall man bit his lip and sighed. Something weird was happening here

Chapter 7 Chapter Text

Dean didn't dare let a word leave his mouth until Bobby had had a significant amount of time to begin to cool off. He hesitated, planning his words before he spoke. Now wasn't the time to come across as sarcastic or rude.

"Bobby?" He began, "What's wrong?" His eyes bore into the side of his surrogate father's face.

There was a beat when Dean didn't think the man would speak but eventually he did, "Check your cell, Dean."

Not arguing, Dean slipped his cell from his pocket and unlocked it. He winced suddenly understanding Bobby's anger.

-23 Missed Calls: Bobby Singer-

-39 New Messages-

He flicked through a few of the messages even though he knew they'd only leave him full of guilt and feeling absolutely terrible. He started with one of the earlier before skipping his was further into the night. He checked the time stamps.

00:10am -You're heading back soon?- B

...

01:09am -Stop it now. Where are you?- B

...

04:39 -Dean, I'm gunna come looking for you if you don't pick up this call- B

...

05:05 -This is highly irresponsible when that cult is about.- B

...

06:01 - I'm coming to Sam's. I know you're there- B

...

The messages became more urgent as the night went on. He couldn't bring himself to read the longer, more panicked sounding ones. He winced at how selfish he'd been. He promised to be home before 12 but he just disappeared without even a message to the other man.

Bobby sighed and the younger man knew a lecture was on his way, "Dean you're a hunter. That's pretty much a risk anyway considering all the demons and things that want revenge on you but for you just to go waltzing off alone when we know there is supernatural activity going on is just plain stupid. We've been poking around in their business, you think they wouldn't take the opportunity to get rid of ya giving the chance?!" He ranted, "You're on a case, a big one too, and you must remember that you can't just go off whenever you fancy as you put yourself in danger. Not only that but you also put me in danger along with keeping me up all night as I consider which supernatural bastard I'd have to kill to get you back." He finished loudly, lips pursed.

There was silence for a few seconds, "I wasn't alone. I was with Sam."

They arrived back at their motel and Bobby parked up but didn't show any signs of actually leaving the vehicle, "What is Sam supposed to do against a group of supernatural creatures? Out charm them?! He wouldn't know how to deal with them! And you'd be too busy protecting him to save your own stupid ass."

Dean huffed, angered slightly by Bobby's sound logic.

Bobby silenced then engine and clambered down from the truck without another word. He wanted to leave the younger man to consider his actions and Dean really did.

It was a few minutes later that the other hunter was also climbing out of the vehicle and shuffling towards the motel room like an ashamed child. His cell vibrated against his leg as he walked.

-Is everything okay?- S

Now Dean felt guilty about leaving Sam in a sudden rush as well making Bobby worry. He really was screwing up everything around him at the moment.

-Sorry, Bobby mad as he worried about me. All fine.- D

Dean shot the message off quickly before hurrying to meet Bobby in the room.

---
The old man was hunched over some papers and documents. Dean assumed he'd been doing that most of the night to try and gain some sort of distraction from Dean's absence. Bobby wasn't the kind of guy to pace the floor boards unless he was absolutely desperate. Instead, he busied himself and made himself useful which kept his mind off panicking.

He didn't look up when Dean came in but his eyes weren't completely focused on the words printed on the document. He seemed to be considering asking or speaking about something. Dean had a gut instinct that the older man was still thinking about Sam but luckily, he didn't seem as furious red as he did previously.

Dean was about to find out when Bobby lifted his head and stared at the wall beside the young man.

"So... You really do like Sam?" He breached gently. Obviously, unsteady on the topic at hand.

There was a beat of silence,"Yeah, more than I want to." He didn't dare move from beside the door in case his movement would disrupt Bobby's internal thought process. Maybe letting Bobby ask these questions will allow him to understand how Dean feels about his boss. Maybe it would just make him madder?

Silence filled the space and Bobby sighed, rubbing his face. Dean shuffled uncomfortably. It'd been a long time since he'd last had to stand and have a talk like this; long before his father died all those years ago.

Time was slow and heavy. It dragged its feet as it passed along the clock face. Dean swallowed, his throat dry like a desert.

There was a huff of breath, "Fine, do what you wish with Samuel but don't put yourself or him in danger as a result." He sighed, "Don't risk everything just to save him." His eyes were pleading, begging Dean to be sensible.

Dean knew Bobby was referring to his bad habit of sacrificing himself for those he held close. It wouldn't be the first time that he would nearly die due to him trying to save someone he felt for. He had also put Bobby's life ahead of his several times; much to the older man's disapproval.

The Winchester nodded, accepting the conditions.

---

It was minutes later that Dean suddenly realised something. He glanced at his watch to make sure.

"Crap!" He cried, jumping up and quickly changing into his black work uniform, "I'm so fucking late!"

It wasn't an overstatement. It was over an hour after he was supposed to show up and that's the latest time he was allowed through the doors. Jess was pretty lenient about what time work started. She let him turn up half an hour later than usual if he had a particularly small list of things to get done but today's list was longer than his arm; it had built up over the week.

It only then seemed to dawn on Bobby that he'd pulled Dean away from his work place, technically, after his hours had started. Although, they didn't seem particularly heartbroken that Dean had been sleeping through some of it. He was in his boss' bed with his boss so surely he is the man to judge what is acceptable amongst his staff. The old hunter was embarrassed that he'd taken Dean away.

"I'll see you later." Dean called, running out the door while doing up the buttons on his shirt. He looked a mess and smelt like sex but he didn't have time to worry.

---

The house wasn't silent when Dean finally got there which was unusual. He was pushing two hours late but his worry was washed away by curiosity. There were voices coming from the kitchen. He followed them and they led him to Sam and Jess at the kitchen island, talking with deep, concerned frowns. They didn't seem surprised when he stepped around the corner.

"Dean!" Jess cried, "Is everything okay?" She knew his relationship with Bobby was important to him. She knew that he acted as a father figure in place of his deceased dad. She stood from the stool she was perched on. Sam, on the other hand, stayed stockstill staring at his large hands.

Dean couldn't help but remember the way those hands had ghosted over his muscles and skin. He shivered but tried to act casual. He didn't want it to be more awkward than necessary.

"Everything is fine, Jess. I sorted it out." He comforted her. For the first time, he felt as though he really did fit in here with Jessica. They'd started to grow a strong friendship over the past few months. Seeing Dean's eyes were on Sam, Jess stepped aside and nodded to encourage him to speak to his boss.

"Sam?" He asked lightly, approaching carefully like a dangerous animal.

"Was it me?" Sam whispered. Dean glanced around but Jessica had gone, "Did I do something?" Hazel eyes bore into his fingers unable to meet Dean's gaze.

"You? Why would it be you?!" He asked, appalled at such an accusation. Out of everyone involved, Sam was definitely the innocent party.

"He was so mad... I thought that maybe..." Sam started twice, unsure how to explain his thoughts. He sighed, turning his face further away from Dean and shaking his head. His shining hair flopped around.

"It's nothing to do with you, Sammy." He took one of Sam's large hands in his own. "You don't have any part in this. I promised Bobby I'd be home at midnight then I forgot to call and tell him I wasn't coming back. It's not your fault, you didn't even know." He tried to convince the man.

Sam peered up at him, eyes doubt heavy.

Dean spoke again, "And... If you wanted to, I don't know, try at us some more... Then Bobby gave us his blessing."

Genuine surprise, a look seldom seen on Sam, appeared on the man's handsome face with a slight smile, "You want to go out again?" Hopefulness sounded through his words and his eyes glittered like diamonds.

He tried not to show him blush so looked down at Sam's fingers as he fiddled with them nervously, "I really do." This lovey-dovey stuff made him uncomfortable but his heart squeezed when he looked at Sam.

He felt there was so much more to learn about Sam and he really wanted to spend more time with the man, whether that was in or out of the bedroom. With Sam, it felt like something more than he'd had with most people. With the majority of people he met while on cases, he simply wanted to have sex with them to get it out of his system and help him focus as well as the pleasure he got from it. With Sam it was different, he wanted to hold Sam and keep him safe and sleep with him, without sex. He wanted to have sex with Sam to please Sam and make him feel good, not as selfish as he was with other people. For some reason, Sam was special. He could easily cause butterflies in Dean's stomach.

Hesitantly, as though he was testing Dean's words, Sam leant in and kissed the man. Dean, glad Sam had trusted him, kissed back passionately. Pouring promises into the kiss.

---
Two days later- 10pm

Dean was lying on top of Sam, his body completely covering the man. He grinned down cheekily at his partner before dropping kisses onto Sam's firm chest. He moaned softly.

Sam chuckled, pulling Dean closer to him and enjoying the moment together.

Usually, after sex, Dean would already be leaving with excuses to ensure he wouldn't have to stay the whole night with the person. This blissful time after sex with Sam was now his favorite as they could just lie and be together. Dean could feel the way Sam's strong chest could rise him up and down in time with his breaths; it reminded him powerful and muscular Sam was even though he was a complete softie. A gentle giant.

Sam moaned, softly. A content sound before humming as he remembered something.

"I forgot to tell you. Jess is gunna be off Wednesday and Thursday this week so you won't have to be in either. Just spend the day doing what you enjoy." Sam spoke gently, hands splayed across the other man's back.

"So I can do you?" He chuckled when Sam blushed.

"Unfortunately, I'm going to be working those day. Not everyone has a nice boss who lets them have time off." He smiled, glanced at the clock before just settling back down again.

"I thought you were kinda like self employed?" He leant his head.

Sam laughed, "Yeah, I am and my boss is a dick." Dean laughed, placing a kiss on Sam's shoulder.

There was a few moments of companionable silence.

"... Why does Jess have this time off all the time?" The thought popped into the hunter's head and he was too blissed out to bother using his social filter.

Sam scoffed, "If a female asks to have a couple of days off once a month then who am I to question it?" He laughed more when Dean pulled an uncomfortable face. It wasn't something he spent much time thinking about."But you can have the time off too. To make it fair and all."

"How generous of you, Sammy." Dean yawned, resting his head against his partner's chest.

The hunter really was deliciously sleepy and unconsciousness was looking increasingly appealing with every second that passed by.

"Sleep now, Dean. You're looking so tired." Sam smiled, kissing him gently.

---

Sam woke him up briefly in the morning as he had to leave for work but it was still much earlier for Dean to get ready so easily fell back asleep once his partner left. The large bed was so warm and cosy, he could exist in there forever.

Dean woke again over an hour later. It was still early but his stomach was rumbling and he really wanted a shower before Jessica turned up and started work. She'd probably rope him in pretty quickly since Sam isn't here to keep the hunter to himself. He begrudgingly pulled himself out of bed, allowing his finger tips to trail over the soft Egyptian Cotten as he left.

He pulled Sam's dressing gown over his underwear and naked chest before venturing out into the corridor to find himself some breakfast. He was shuffling towards the stairs when the sound of a door opening behind him made him freeze. Quickly, he spun around.

Jess was strolling across the corridor, much further down from Sam's room, in only a towel and head-wrap. Dean's jaw dropped at the sight of his friend in his lover's house. She was absorbed in her thoughts so didn't notice Dean until he spoke.

"Jessica?" He called, his voice echoing down the corridor.

She jumped, grabbing her towel to ensure it didn't fall down, before look across at her colleague, "Dean, you made me jump!"

"What are you doing here?" Puzzled, lines were drawn across his forehead. He tightened the dressing gown.

"I could ask you the same question." She laughed, "I've been living here for a while." She explained with a smile, seemingly comfortable in her half naked state.

"For a while?"

"Like a year." She admitted, "It was supposed to be temporary but Sam just said I could rent a room permanently instead... For a really good rate too." She laughed again, being her usual bubbly self.

"Why did nobody mention this?" He asked, feeling as though nobody valued him enough to keep him in the loop. He felt uncomfortable in the hall with Jess' eyes solely on him.

"It's kinda old news and wasn't really important until now I guess since you and Sam are like..." She hesitated, not wanting to label them something they weren't.

"Yeah, makes sense..." He answered honestly. Beginning to feel more awkward, he began to creep towards the staircase. "Well... I'll see you later." He was speed walking towards the stairs before Jess even had a chance to answer him.

---

Dean typed 'Deadwood' into the search engine again, hoping for different results from when he last checked a few weeks ago. There had to be something more going on in this town as so many sources suggested that this was a big operation happening here. The cult wasn't exactly something many hunter's considered to be large fry. There had to be something more going on just beneath the surface.

"It's so weird." The young man mumbled, scratching just below his collar.

Bobby glanced up from the phone book with one eyebrow risen, expectantly, "You've said the same thing everyday for the last four months."

Dean peered at the old man with a sarcastic smile, "I know but it is. This town reeks of something going on but I can't place my finger on it. The other day, in the bar, this woman came up to me and asked me what why deal is. Like, why I came to Deadwood." He turned fully to the surrogate father, "I thought perhaps she knew I was a hunter but then she was gone and I've never seen her since."

"You didn't tell me this before?"

Dean shrugged, "I don't know. I guess it didn't seem important until I thought over it some and realised how weird it seemed."

There was silence as both men thought over the new information and applied it to all their theories. Bobby scratched his whiskers and hummed in thought, "What if everyone is in on it?"

"What d'ya mean?" Dean frowned, shuffling his chair closer to the man.

"I mean, what if everyone in Deadwood knows what's going on here and is hiding it from us. It's not impossible."

"A town made up of Supernatural supporters? Highly unlikely. Somebody would have known, found out maybe?" He breathed deeply, "Maybe there is groups throughout the town but I can't believe it is everyone."

"Okay," Bobby said. His tone suggested that if it was the right theory, but they ignored it, he was going to blame Dean, "But don't let your attachment cloud your judgement, son." Although, he did see how easy it is to be sceptical of this theory.

"A part from planning to wipe out the human race, what have they done wrong?" Dean asked after a couple of minutes as he sipped at his soda. "They haven't done anything wrong."

Bobby seemed to stare at him, as though he was trying to get into his mindset, "Dean, they're planning to kill the whole human race..." He tried to remind the man.

Dean sighed, his back clicked when he flopped back in the uncomfortable plastic chair. Running his fingers through his hair, he sighed, "I just don't want to have to deal with something this big, you know? Saving the world is always left to us."

Bobby was tempted to remind him that it was actually their job to save innocents but he thought better of it. Dean had been brooding since he had last seen Sam on Tuesday morning. The hunter seemed to forget that civilians did actually have jobs even if they didn't seem important when compared against hunting. Bobby thanked the Lord for text communications otherwise Dean would be hellish.

---

The hunters gave up on research a few hours later as they were only hitting dead end after dead end. It was Dean's suggesting that they went to his new favorite bar for drinks and the older man was quick to agree.

The beer was cold and atmosphere was welcoming. They felt immediately at home despite being hunters amongst strangers; an environment which would usually have them constantly alert.

The boys were both drunk, embarrassingly so, and it had grown dark outside. They found themselves laughing like they'd not laughed in years and talking about old stories nobody had ever shared. Dean enjoyed being with Bobby and just being able to relax since they were rarely together doing anything aside from research.

The lights in the bar were golden and the noise levels were only increasing as the patrons consumed more and more. It was a happy feeling in the room which constricted around the new people in the most pleasant but bizarre way. You step through the door and you already feel relaxed and at ease, as though you've already spent hours here.

Suddenly, the heat was gone; it drained away with the atmosphere in the blink of an eye. The hunters were the last to realise the change and, as a result, the last to turn to stare at whoever stood in the doorway. The locals seemed tense and uncomfortable, a few exchanged worried glances.

It took Dean a moment to recognize the man but after a few seconds he suddenly realised.

"Shit, Bobby. It's the guy from the clearing." Dean whispered under his breath to the man beside him.

"Hey, look who it is!" The cult guy cried, he raised a hand in gesture to Dean. The hunter felt extremely vulnerable as every set of eyes in the building turned on him. "Little Dean Demane!" He laughed darkly. He stepped further into the bar and a shorter man followed him in.

"Who are you?" He kept his voice steady and tried to pretend he wasn't completely drunk.

The man mock pouted, pretending to act hurt, "Come on, Deany. You know me, I've seen you hanging around my house." Smirking, he came closer but there was still a significant distance between them.

"Yeah," He shrugged, "Sorry about that." His voice was monotone and face blank.

"Here's the deal, We need to get to Sam Campbell." He pulled a large silver blade from the inside of his jacket and sighed. His fingertips danced along the edge, "But Sam is tough to deal with so we decided to target his bitch instead."

Bobby growled beside Dean, offended that his family would be addressed in such a way by scum. He leant towards Dean in a subtle protective stance. Everyone in the room noticed the movement.

"I ain't nobody's bitch." The young hunter spat, showing his aggression.

All his hunting equipment was back in the impala outside the motel a few blocks from here. He'd come out unarmed for the first time in years; he knew that was probably going to be a mistake the moment he'd realised.

The man, apparently leading this attack, shrugged and huffed a laugh, "We don't really care what's going on with you and him but he likes you so that's good enough."

"No, that's totally unreasonable." A voice spoke calmly from the double doors. "If you wanted me, you should have just come for me." Sam called across the bar. Every eye in the room turned in amazement.

"Fuck you, Sam Campbell!" The second man shouted before leaping towards Dean's boyfriend with a knife in his hand.

Sam was quick, clearly with too much experience in self defence or martial arts. With a swift movement of his hand he knocked the man's arm into the air, sending the knife clattering to the floorboards. A sudden punch to the stomach sent the man backwards with surprising force. He tumbled over a nearby table, landing with a thump on the other side. The civilians scrambled away from the man.

The first man, the one Dean recognized from his stake outs as Terry, rushed towards Sam with the large blade tightly in his fist. There was a struggle as the man's brute strength almost outweighed Sam's skill. They fought, Sam winding him and landing a few good hits, and the man wielding his knife, obviously looking to do some serious damage to the tall man. Dean knew Sam was strong, he'd seen it firsthand but was he a match for this supernatural creature?

A few people in the bar saw their chance and made a run for the door.

Dean sucked in a breath when Sam gasped in pain. Tears automatically welled up in his eyes, a reaction to the sudden acute pain. The large knife was sticking out of his stomach, almost directly centre.

In a last ditch attempt, Sam pulled back his arm and his fist snapped into his attacker's face. The man released an "Omphh" and stumbled back. Sam ripped the blade from his stomach, crying out at the pain, before stabbing it at his attacker.

The man collapsed in pain, curling into a ball. He whimpered.

Sam stumbled backwards, his world was spinning and black dots were coming closer in his line of sight.

"Someone call Crowley." He ordered before collapsing.

Dean was the first person beside Sam once he hit the floor. He was applying pressure to the wound to stem the blood flow and propping Sam's head up on his lap. His hand strayed to Sam's hair, gently removing it from where it covered Sam's expressive hazel eyes. Dean bent closer.

"Sam?" Tears were beginning to form in his eyes. He held Sam tighter.

"Call... Jess..." Sam managed to gasp out.

Dean scoffed at his partner, "Jess? No way, you need an ambulance!" He tried to sooth the man with gentle words. He kept his tone light, not conveying any of the dread that was blossoming within his stomach. He could feel Bobby hovering behind him.

"IVE CALLED JESSICA!" A local person cried from far across the room.

"Tell her... I'm dying this time..." He murmured. His skin was as pale as snow and breathing was labored and heavy.

"Ha, you're not dying, not yet. You've still got time, Sammy." Dean told him. Forbidding him from dying.

Sam tried to laugh but it pulled at his stomach muscles, making him curl in slightly and cough. Blood rose from his mouth, staining his lips. His blinking was getting slower and his body growing more slack.

Dean focused on his hollow breathing as reassurance. As long as his chest kept pumping, he still had life.

Dean didn't know how long it was before Jessica turned up with a few men. They pulled Sam out of Dean's grasp and pulled him into a stretcher. They were gone without an explanation to the man sobbing on the floor or a word to any of the onlookers.

Bobby gently placed a hand on Dean's shoulder.

Neither of the hunters noticed the distinct sizzle of his wound when the blade stabbed him.

Chapter 8 Chapter Text

"Come on, Dean." Bobby encouraged, "Let's wait for news at home, shall we?" He wanted to get Dean away from the crowds. Their prying eyes were haunting.

"Hello, Dean." A familiar voice spoke. The King of hell himself, Crowley, strode into the bar. "Bobby." He winked at the old hunter. He didn't say another word to the hunters as he disposed of the injured men. They seemed to vanish into flames. Bobby hoped that meant hell.

In a blink of an eye, Crowley was gone. There wasn't even a poof of smoke to prove he'd been there. The hunters would have thought they were going crazy if it wasn't for everyone else staring at the same spot on the floor.

"Come on," Bobby encouraged again, "Lets get gone."

He didn't want to deal with all the questions about demons turning up in their small locals bar. No one could deal with that, no matter how drunk you were. Bobby pulled Dean off his knees and guided him towards the door. The young man appeared to be going through a state of shock.

---

Bobby had no idea how Dean convinced him to drive them to Sam's house. He also had no idea how he'd been convinced into driving to the hospital first. When Sam wasn't there Dean pretty much demanded he be taken to the large house. The young man wasn't in a state appropriate for driving so Bobby was pretty much forced into complying.

Bobby didn't know what to expect. Sam looked on the verge of death when his friend arrived to take him away. He had his doubts that the local would survive through the night- if he was even still breathing now.

The old man kept edging faster as Dean continued to lean forward in his seat: anxious to get to Sam's house quicker. The driving was reckless but it was late so the roads were quiet and the atmosphere was tense like in a state of emergency.

"He's fine." Dean repeated again. Bobby stopped asking after the third or forth time. "He's fine."

They were close to the house and they both were anxious. They fidgeted and shifted.

Dean slipped his gun into his waistband to ensure he wouldn't be caught out by those idiots again anytime tonight. It's mere presence reassured him.

---

The car wasn't even at a standstill but Dean was already tumbling out the door and sprinting up towards the large front entrance to Sam's house. The building was dark and shadowy. It had a strange feel to it. The darkness seemed to watch you from the empty rooms through the glass. Bobby felt instantly on edge. An unnatural vibe seemed to be permeating through the house like a thick smoke.

Dean was already opening the door and running inside the house when the older hunter was pulling the car to a halt outside.

Inside the house there wasn't a single light on and the silence was deafening. It rang inside Dean's ears. He could hear his own panting. The building felt empty and for a moment, Dean considered that perhaps they'd rushed Sam to the hospital since they'd been travelling. The hunter was about to run out when he heard a sharp cry from upstairs.

He ran for the stairs, taking them two at a time and nearly tripped on several occasions. The darkness made it even harder to coordinate on the large staircase. He sprinted straight for Sam's room, ignoring the eerie corridor on the other side.

Dean slammed into the door causing it to fly back and hit the wall. Three figures standing in the room suddenly span on Dean, approaching him slowly with menacing expressions. The hunter instinctively stepped away from the large men, there was no sign of Jessica to assist him.

Who were they and why were they in Sam's room?!

He swallowed, getting prepared to turn and flee when a voice called out, making everyone freeze.

"Leave him alone." It was weak and dry, "What's the worst that could happen now?"

"But Samuel-"One began to argue but was interrupted.

"Go!"

The men glanced at each other before reluctantly filing out of the bedroom. Dean felt uncomfortable as though he'd never spent many nights here like he actually had. The polished floorboards beneath his heavy work boots creaked, a whisper into the silence.

Shaking his head, Dean rushed closer when he was close enough to see Sam's deathly pale face and glassy eyes. Sam didn't just look ill, he looked as though he'd be drinking iced tea with the devil momentarily. The sick man blinked sluggishly, like a newly born baby.

"I know I look terrible." Sam tried to raise a smile but it missed. Dean considered how much like Sam it really was to be smiling all the way through to his death bed. "You must excuse that since I was recently stabbed." His chuckle broke out as a dry bark. His eyes fell, sadness dragging him.

"Are you okay?" All Dean could find to say to his short term partner.

Sam sighed, "I'm dying, Dean." He didn't sound overly broke up over his own demise. He sounded more as though it'd had been a long time in the process.

"Don't be fucking stupid." The hunter felt his eyes water slightly. He gripped Sam's ice cold hands and squeezed. "You were only stabbed." He tried to play it off in the hopes it would give Sam a more positive outlook.

The dying man rolled his warm hazel eyes before pushing the blanket back so they could observe his white shirt and the bloody rip where the blade had penetrated through the thin fabric. The blood was thick and beginning to dry into clumps. It had spread out from the epicentre like a flower in bloom. Breathing, as to be anticipated, gave Sam a great deal of pain. He tensed up as each flow of air increased and decreased the volume of his lungs.

Weak, shaking hands pulled up the shirt to reveal the stab wounded. The hunter fell away from Sam, scrambling to get away from the lying man even though he clearly wasn't in any state to be chasing him.

The wound was swollen as though hot irons had burnt the flesh on Sam's torso. Welts and blisters had forced their way onto the skin where the blade would have touched. The red looked to be spreading out from the wound, further out as though it was slowly attacking more and more flesh. It looked lethal, especially to whatever Sam must be.

Dean scrabbled his gun and aimed it towards Sam.

The man would have been expected to duck for cover but he was barely strong enough to move his arms let alone his whole body.

"What the fuck are you?!" Dean growled from the floor. No human would have had such a reaction to the silver knife even if it had been placed in cyanide or some similar poison. His breathing was harsh as he tried to hold himself together.

How had he allowed himself to feel anything for this monster? How many people had it brutally murdered? Had it trapped other victims in the same fashion?

Sam manages to raise his arms and holds them out towards his partner in a placating motion, "Please, Dean. You don't understand." He begged, trying, but failing, to move himself up.

"What have you done? Are you with those creatures that live in the clearing?! What are you trying to do to the humans in this town? I heard them talking about wiping them out!" He hissed menacingly, "You don't even deserve to live." Anger rampaged through his strong body.

Sam opened his mouth to plead his case but dropped his hands and let his head rest back against his headboard, "Just do it, Dean." He whispered, closing his eyes to awaiting the inevitability of the shot. "I've been fighting for much too long and I'm tired, so so tired." A single tear ran from his water line, cascading down his cheek.

"What have you been fighting?" He inquired sceptically. Dean could see the opportunity to gain some well needed inside information.

There was a huff of laughter which echoed heavy and shallow in the room, "The Actives." There was a beat of silence in which Sam decided that he may as well be brave in his last few minutes, "They're a pain in my ass. Always trying to take over the goddamnned world. For some reason... Everyone feels it is my responsibility to stop them."

"Actives?" Dean allowed himself to shuffle a little closer to the fountain of knowledge. He kept his gun aimed directly for Sam's head though, not trusting him yet.

"Those idiots from the clearing. They've been a pain since the day they turned up there, my God! And I swear I tried to reach an agreement but they're not into compromise." He panted, his outburst taking the last bit of energy from within him. He rested back again, sighing. "Just do me a favor and shoot."

Dean stood and was still as his brained ticked over into overdrive. He watched Sam. The creature was deathly pale and almost motionless as it's breathing got slower and slower. Weakness was pulsing through it's body like a dark shadow. His finger pulsed over the trigger.

The gun shook in Dean's hand but he tried to ignore the nerves his body was sensing. He stepped closer and steeled himself once more.

"You're still a fucking monster." The hunter reminded himself of his father's past advice. If it's not human, it's not good. Sam had conned him into believing there was some essence of good inside him, it was actually all rotten and dark. How had he let himself be fooled into this?

Sam winced at Dean's truthful words, he had never denied being a monster. A sick, grotesque creature. He wasn't proud of himself. It was harder then he'd anticipated to have to live like this for so long.

Thunder cracked outside as the cold air moved further over town. Dean jumped at the noise, unprepared for it. Sam remained stock still, unfazed.

A desperate tone took the edge out of Dean's words, "What are you?" He was desperate to understand. He'd been falling for Sam, he didn't want to do this. He had to do this. He lowered his gun slightly.

Sam's shoulders slumped further as he sighed like he was a deflating tyre, "I was genetically engineered. Part werewolf, part vampire, I think there is some shapeshifter that doesn't really make an appearance in my day to day life and other stuff thrown in... Quite a bit human too." He dared to whisper. His first attempt to change Dean's mind. Although, it was looking more promising than when the hunter had the gun raised.

"Bullshit! Nobody would ever do that!" Dean shouted, raising the gun again where it had started to drift lower.

"I wish he didn't."

"Who created you?" Dean stepped closer, he was close enough to sit on the bed if he chose to.

"My father..." Sam breathed shallowly, "He wasn't a nice guy."

"A demon?" Dean pressed, eyes boring into Sam's head.

Sam chuckled before staring the man straight in the eye, "A hunter." The words we're getting progressively quieter.

Puzzled, "Why would a-"

Sam shrugged as he interrupted, "Nobody knows... He was insane, completely obsessed." He took a moment to try and gain some more energy. He could feel himself dying- it wasn't wholly unpleasant. "Now, Dean, if you're gunna shoot me... I'd appreciate it if we... Ya know, did it now."

There was silence and an unnatural stillness.

Dean dropped his gun into the very end of the bed and moved up beside his partner. He knelt so he could get closer, "I'm not going to kill you, Sammy. You've been protecting the people here for so long it wouldn't be fair... And you're kinda human." He presented the argument. Dean leant up to kiss Sam and hesitated for a moment before kissing him gently.

"Thank you so much." Sam mumbled against his lips.

There was a beat of silence before Sam spoke again, "I need to get... Jessica back in here. She might have something to stop the silver poison spreading." His words mere whispers.

Dean raced out of the room without answering and began searching for his colleague.

---

Bobby rubbed his whiskers thoughtfully. Dean paced the dirty carpet with long, impatient strides. It was early in the morning and every other customer in the motel had been sleeping for hours. Dean and Bobby, on the other hand, could do anything but sleep.

Jessica had demanded they left once she returned to smother some pale green mixture over Sam's wound. She knew the negative effects it could have. The intense pain would encourage Sam's darker, more animalistic sides to rear their ugly heads. It really was the most dangerous place for two hunters to be lurking around.

Dean was adamant that he would stay rooted to the area beside Sam's bed but the elder hunter managed to encourage him away since it would really be for Sam's own good. The creature would be distraught if he awoke to discover he has mauled his own partner to death. He didn't want to be like that.

His short spikes were ruffled where it'd been repeatedly combed by unsteady fingers.

"So, you're telling me he was genetically engineered?" Bobby tried to clear up the murky details he'd managed to extract from the younger hunter. "And you didn't kill him?"

Dean knew Bobby wasn't suggesting he should have shot him but rather was genuinely confused since the boy had been brought up by trigger happy John Winchester. He'd been taught to shoot first and ask questions later. It had been Bobby's mission over the many years to instil some compassion and patience into the young man.

Dean shrugged and huffed out a weary breath, "He means good... He's trying to be peaceful and bring order to the world of the supernatural. He was created by a hunter, can you believe it?"

Bobby scoffed, "Hunters that create monsters can't call themselves hunters!" He crossed his arms sternly. "I know of a few hunters myself that I can imagine going down that road. After killing so many monsters they start to think of themselves as God." His eyes glanced around the room, unsure of how to continue.

There was silence again as unspoken words lingered on the tips of tongues. Bobby didn't know whether it was his place to ask but he needed to know what was going on. Bobby shuffled close to the edge of the bed so he could perch on the very edge and encourage Dean to sit beside him. He patted the blanket beside him and Dean was there in seconds.

"Dean," Bobby started, "Do you- Are you... What are you going to do?"

"Do?" Dean leant his head so he could glance across at his surrogate father, "Do about Sam?"

The older man nodded, feeling as though Dean really was isolated in this decision. Nothing the old man could do would impact Dean's choice. If Bobby were to take this into his own hands then he wasn't even sure what he'd do. Besides, he trusted the young hunter's judgement.

"I guess... After this is all cleared up, we leave." He sniffed, glancing around the floor. "The case would be over and we know what we came for; there definitely is supernatural activity in Deadwood." He tried to laugh but it fell flat. He tried to get back into the 'right' mindset. The one his father had made him wear in every case as well as everyday life. He was a hunter and should treat his life like so.

"Just like that?" Bobby watched the man, analysing his every moment, "Is Sam... No longer a concern?" He didn't want to be blatant in asking if Sam's monsterness would equal a swift break up. He didn't exactly oppose them being together.

He moaned and rubbed his face, "Oh, man. I really don't know."

Bobby smiled gently, patting his surrogate son's arm soothingly, "Don't worry. There's plenty of time. Now, shall we try and sleep?" He encouraged.

Dean only replied with a nod, grateful at the suggestion.

---

The day was warm and the sun was beating down on the back of the hunters necks as they walked up to Sam's large front door. Knowing this was a monster's home made Dean feel significantly more uncomfortable about just strolling in. Where they still at the same level in their relationship? Or was Sam just playing Dean to control him and stop him nosing around I'm his creature affairs.

Bobby rang the bell when they reached the door. He adjusted his hat while they waited which wasn't long. Jessica answered the door in mere seconds as she usually does.

"Oh, Dean?" She sounded surprised for some reason. Her natural hostess skills kicked in as she stepped aside for them to come in.

The hunter automatically headed for the large staircase but the small hand on his shoulder halted his progress. She looked sad.

"Dean, he's not there." She admitted.

In a burst of anger, which had been forming over the last several hours, Dean grabbed the collar of her shirt and pulled her towards him. His red face was inches from her composed features.

"If he is dead, I swear I will kill you since you sent me away!" He hissed, the words curled off his tongue.

"No," She said sternly and, with minimal effort, pulled herself free, "He is alive but it is too dangerous to keep him here while half the Actives are after his head. We've moved him." She glanced around like she was planning a conspiracy. "Benny will take you there... He's a vampire."

A man stepped in from the kitchen and nodded to the two hunters but it was clearly he wasn't 100% comfortable with the knowledge that they were hunters. He shifted to look larger as he came closer. Jessica rolled her eyes at his display.

She clapped to break the tension, "Brilliant! You boys can get going now!" She hustled them towards the door, before they exited she whispered to Benny, "Take the new car."

---

Benny was silent which set the atmosphere for the hunter in the back of the black car. The windows were blacked out, the seats were black leather and the tension inside felt black. Dean fidgeted uncomfortably and glanced across at Bobby. They certainly didn't come prepared to be driven off in some dark car... They would have brought more weapons.

The drive was longer than expected. The security threat was obviously serious as they hadn't just dumped Sam in some in town motel. Instead, he was miles out of Deadwood in some wooded area. Dean couldn't help but wonder why supernatural beings were obsessed with acting stereotypical in the woods.

It was a log cabin far up a winding, over grown track. Dean was secretly glad it was mid-day as it would have looked real creepy at night. The trees bent in towards it as though they were attracted by some minor magnetic charge but they were probably strategically grown to shield the cabin from any eyes in the sky.

"Here," Benny said, turning around in his seat to face them. Handing across a key. "You go on. I have to head back but Sam will call me when you're ready to leave. There are other lock systems in the door but it should already be programmed to you."

Thanking the vampire, Dean took the key and stepped out onto the fallen leaves and branches that littered the forest floor. He peaked up at the cabin and sighed.

This better not be a trap.

---

The car was already gone by the time Bobby and Dean reached the door but Benny had been right, there were several locking techniques on to wooden door. There was three physical systems on the door: a standard lock, a thumb pad and a code pad.

He slipped the key in and turned it to hear a thump. The thumb pad lit up slightly so Dean took his cue and pressed his thumb down. There was a beep and a sudden pain in the middle of his finger. It didn't last long, a mere prick. Another beep allowed Dean to remove his thumb. On the pad, just under the finger-recognition a question appeared- Type your birthday on the code above (mm/dd/yy).

Dean quickly typed it in and another heavy thump, sounding like metal, sounded out. The door unlocked allowing the hunters access.

They stepped across the threshold unsure of what they'd find.

Chapter 9 Chapter Text

It was a cabin, that much was clear despite the darkness inside. Impenetrable metal shutters kept the room in shadows and it had never felt more like a trap. Unease spread like poison through his body.

Bobby and Dean stood and merely peered at each other in confusion; the air felt stale as though nobody had lived in here for years. Dust covered the surfaces and every item was in perfect, untouched place like it'd been set there months ago and abandoned. The cabin was almost silent, the creaking of the trees outside managed to breach the undoubtedly reinforced walls.

They seemed to treat Sam like a King and their King was in danger.

They shuffled forward carefully, aware that any step may trigger a trap that'd end their very existence. Their caution verged on paranoia but their experience gave them need to be.

They froze when they heard a noise. A soft wheezing sound.

"Sam?" Dean called gently.

There was no reply aside for another wheeze that barely reached the hunters. The sound came from a door on the far wall which was only open a few inches. It was also dark in there also but the hunters approached it nonetheless.

Dean touched the door with just enough force for it to swing open a few more inches. If this was a trap he wasn't about to go barging into a room to get shot at or stabbed. He opened it further. Bobby was close behind him.

"Dean?" The voice was weak but deep and verging on unfamiliar. The undertone was gruff like the owner had decided to take sandpaper to his throat. "Is that you?"

Reaching around the wall, Dean felt for light switch upon the surface. His fingers bumped the base and he quickly snapped it on, shocking both the hunters and the man in the small hospital style bed. Dean and Bobby blinked against the sudden sharp light. The man in the bed raised an arm over his face and moaned in pain.

The figure in the bed definitely was Sam even if he looked remarkably different. Sweat glistened on his forehead, looking like he'd come out the shower. His hair was limp and lifeless. His shoulders were thin and the bones were beginning to press against his translucent skin.

"Sammy?" He questioned, eyes wide as he stared unbelievingly. He was thinner then before. Most of the man's muscle mass had apparently evaporated over the course of 24 hours. He edged closer and Sam dropped his arm, it fell against the bed.

His eyes were inky and undoubtedly inhuman.

"Dean." He managed to reply. A drip carrying crimson red entered through his arm but Dean didn't want to focus on the contents and be reminded again of what Sam was. He drew his shining verdant eyes away from the medical device. "I didn't know coming." He rested his head back now he was able to relax since he'd communicated his basic message.

"Jess told us they had to move you. Are you okay?" He hesitated a mere moment before holding Sam's bony hand. The man only nodded in return so Dean asked some more, "Why do you look so thin? So fragile?"

A ghost of a smile, "Silver.... Holy Water.... Stuff."

Sam's eyes flashed a silver before his eyelids began to fall and his body was being pulled under. His breathing was shallow and verging on unpredictable due to the effort required just to pump his lungs.

It was silent and Dean stood up to rejoin Bobby by the door. The old hunter looked sceptical.

"Is that what I think it is?" He cringed, eyeing the plastic bag hanging beside Sam's bed. The red liquid dribbled down the ajoining tube to where a needle allowed it to enter Sam Campbell's bloodstream. "I just hope it's for bloodloss." He huffed.

"What now?" Dean whispered.

Clearly nobody had taken into account the idea that Sam might actually sleep when they'd decided to abandon them here. They glanced around.

"Guess we'll have to sit it out."

----

"Thank God you're still here!" Jessica cried when she stumbled into the front room of the cabin.

"Where would we go?" Bobby mumbled sassily with his arms folded.

"Dean, shit has hit the fan. We need Sam out." Jess explained briefly while flying around the small building collecting clothes or possessions of her boss'. She was moving to quickly for Dean to ask her anything.

He grabbed her shoulder, "What's happened?" His features were stern.

"They're coming! They're coming after Sam!" She squeaked, paling.

"Shit, what do we do?"

"We have to find somewhere to dump him. Out of the way." Jessica's fingers pulled at her blonde hair, "I just don't know where yet."

Bobby spoke up immediately, "I know a place."

Every other person in the room froze to peer at him, eyes wide.

---

It was five hours later and Dean could feel the adrenaline seeping out of his system. The last hours had been a mad dash to gather an unconscious genetically engineered monster and escape the town. The hunters were both still twitchy as almost any car passing by could be a supernatural creature. Jess had gotten them a truck from somewhere with the promise that they'd be reunited with their own vehicles within 48 hours.

Bobby was driving with Dean riding in the back. Sam was lying out across the seats with his lolling head on Dean's lap. The tall man was crushed in and looked uncomfortable.

Bobby braked suddenly as a car in front pulled onto a side road. Sam's body slid off the chairs and into the footwells. Dean tried to catch him but the momentum carrying Sam's body was too fast.
He landed with a thump, his right up flying up in the air only to hit the front seat.

"Will you be careful with that corpse!?" Bobby cried. He was on edge enough as it was without Dean dropping his boyfriend on the floor.

They drove on in silence with Dean struggling to hoist up the man.

----

"Home, Sweet home." Bobby muttered as he unlocked his paint-peeling front door. The house was crisp, silent and dark.

"Um, a little help here?" Dean called, getting the older man's attention. The young hunter was stood at the bottom of the porch steps with his arms wrapped around Sam's torso in a feeble effort. Despite the man losing significant weight and muscle he still managed to weigh a tonne.

Bobby dumped their bags inside the door before helping to boost Sam up the stairs and then upstairs into the spare bed. By the end his bad was aching and he was more grumpy. He mumbled something about coffee before scurrying downstairs with all plans of relaxing for a while.

Dean sat on the bed he usually occupied while staying at Bobby's. It was opposite Sam's so gave him a perfect view of the creature. His breathing was still light and faded in and out.

He couldn't believe everything that's happened in the last 24 hours. Yesterday morning he'd woken up in a normal town with a normal life and a normal partner. Today he was harbouring the leader of the supernatural conspiracy inside his uncles spare room. If that wasn't a life switch then he didn't know what was.

In some capacity, Dean was glad is father wasn't still alive. He wouldn't have allowed Dean to even think about getting into a relationship let alone with a supernatural creature. If John were here Sam would already have had a silver bullet the heart and holy water force fed to him before being burnt. That's after he'd been tour tortured into admitting details of the hidden supernatural underworld!

Dean huffed a sigh and Sam slept. He wasn't sure what to expect over the next few days but he hoped as hell they'd be prepared and Sam wouldn't wind up dead somewhere.

The hunter jumped when Sam murmured something from his unconsciousness. He couldn't help but wonder what Sam was dreaming about while he's locked in his mind. For some reason, the hunter would bet money on it being unpleasant.

He stopped staring at Sam. Placed a kiss on his lips before slouching downstairs to see Bobby.

----
Dean munched his dry toast miserably.

Bobby didn't know whether the man chose a particularly dull breakfast because of his dull mood or whether the dull breakfast was causing some of the mood. He watched with eyebrows risen anyway.

The younger man huffed and dumped the toast back onto the plate before peering around the room. He noticed Bobby's eyes on him.

"He's not getting better." He pouted.

There was a moment where nobody knew whether Bobby was going to answer but he did, "It's only been a day. He was stabbed by silver, Dean. That's poisonous to whatever he is... What is he?"

Dean remembered that his uncle didn't make it up to the room with him while Sammy was explaining who he was. He sighed, again.

"What isn't he is probably a much simpler question." He rubbed his calloused hands over his weary face. He leant back into his chair to start the explanation, "He said he's got a bit of vampire, werewolf, shifter and human... He said there was some other stuff but didn't get specifics."

"So that's why he had that reaction to silver." Bobby mulled over this new information. He wasn't exactly pleased about it but they'd dealt with difficult situations before. He sipped his coffee as though that'd give him strength.

"It just... I don't know. I thought with all those creatures mixed that he'd be practically unstoppable." He drew patterns in the sugar he'd spilt on the table while trying to mix up his coffee.

Bobby chewed his cheek, "I suppose those cult guys know his weaknesses."

Dean poked at his toast for a little longer while Bobby stared into the distance. Heavy thought displayed on his face.

All Dean wanted to know was whether Sam would recover.

---

Sam shifted, he could feel searing pain and throbbing heat slinking through his veins and poisoning his respiring cells. Those remaining cells anyway. His body could sense the wound on his stomach and his werewolf DNA was fighting to heal it. However, his werewolf self couldn't do anything as it was paralysed by the silver. The vampire inside him was out of action too. At this point he was pretty much down to a couple of still effective DNA strands. Unfortunately, the largest contribution was from the human within him and at that point he knew he was basically screwed.

How can humans live like this?! So weak and frail.

The sun was held inside the wound. It's hydrogen fuelled nuclear fusion destroying his insides. Sam wanted to scream but he was trapped inside his own mind. A prison. Darkness. Pain. He could hear Dean on occasion speaking to him but it was hard to make out the sounds over the thumping of blood in his ears.

He cursed himself to die.

----

There was a sound on the porch. It was pitch black outside and dead silent as no wind moved the trees. Bobby's hand instantly fell to the gun he kept in the first drawer on his desk. It was an automatic move especially since they were harbouring a supernatural creature which other supernatural creatures were hunting down. He assumed anyway.

He heard his front door open and gentle footsteps along the corridor.

The old hunter pulled out the gun and held it in the direction the unexpected visitor would step out. He wasn't wrong. A figure stepped around the corner hesitantly. His finger twitched on the trigger before he recognised them and froze his hand. Jessica was looking uncertainly around the room.

"Ya idjit!" He hollered at her. "I nearly shot you!"

She jumped at his voice. Jess was so absorbed in her surroundings that she hadn't noticed the old man sitting behind the old wooden desk. She held her hand to her heart to feel the thundering pulse.

"You scared the hell out of me!" She cried.

Lowering the gun, he muttered quietly, "Well, you should just walk into someone's house."

She caught the words on her sensitive hearing, "I thought you'd all be asleep now so didn't want to wake you. I've never been in a hunter house before." She spoke while her eyes darted around. She turned in a full circle, admiring every feature. "We got told some awful nasty stuff about how you guys live." She smiled at him, "but you don't have heads of your victims in jars."

It was weird to hear a monster be referred to as a victim. It was a new perspective on what he'd spent his life doing.

"You guys actually believe that?"

She shrugged, "It's more of a rumor or urban myth but there is always a part of you that wants to see proof."

He watched her being so intrigued about his mess of a home and couldn't help but feel for her. She seemed so innocent and curious by the world. She seemed pretty open minded too considering how Bobby alone had killed tens of her kind.

"Where's Sam?" It was eventually that she voiced the real reason she'd travelled all this way.

"I'll show you the way up." He offered, standing and stepping out from behind the dark desk and leading. "Are we safe enough here?"

"Trust me when I say this place is a pig to find. I literally couldn't find anyone who could tell me where you lived which is a blessing really. You've done a good job of keeping yourself off the map. In the end I had to summon Crowley but even he was reluctant to reveal anything. Especially since he obviously has a soft spot for you!"

They'd reached the bedroom when she suggested that Crowley had a crush on him.

"What?!" He demanded but she'd already slipped into the bedroom to see to Sam.

Sam was lying flat with the blanket tucked up to his waist so his injured chest was naked and on display. His face was blank aside from the barely-there notes of pain you could see in the small lines around his features. His hazel eyes moved rapidly underneath his eyelids.

Dean was lying on the other bed facing his partner. However, lack of sleep for the last couple of days has caused him to drift off while watching Sam. He was still slightly propped up against the pillows where he'd gotten too comfortable while keeping watch and his eyelids had slid down and not reopened.

----

She waited downstairs after checking Sam over. At one point she placed a white capsule under his tongue but apart from that she was of very little use. So much so, that Dean grew angry the next day when he saw her sat on the back porch watching the sun rise over the glistening salvage yard.

"What the fuck are you doing out here?!" He growled at her as soon as the screen door had snapped shut behind him. The air was still cool and damp from the night before.

"I've come to help Sam. You know that." She spoke gently.

"You've done shit all since you've been here!" He barked, marching down the porch steps so he could stand on the dust in front of where she was sat on the steps. "What's wrong with him? Why isn't he getting better?" His anger dissolved into heartbreak and concern. Verdant eyes glittered with moisture. He whispered, "What's wrong with him?"

She sighed, "I thought you'd recognize his condition considering how it's his human side reacting. Nothing supernatural about this." She watched for his understanding, "It's basically a coma Dean. His body couldn't cope with what's happening so his brain induced a coma. That was kinda helped by his vampire side but the maintenance is human coping strategies."

He lowered himself beside her on the dusty step. His eyes gazed out.

"But what can we do?"

"We wait. A usual wound takes him hours to heal... A silver blade, soaked in holy water will take him a lot longer. Only his human side can fight it which is a slow process especially because he has conflicting genetic material. It's a bit like his body arguing over what step to take next." She licked her drying lips, "I'm hopeful it'll only be a week or so. It was much shorter last time because he was pretty much healthy. He was stabbed a few months ago so there is still a weakness in his body."

"I saw the scar. What was it?"

She smirked at him at little, "Dean, he doesn't scar unless it was a silver knife. He got attacked by one of your type who was passing through."

"A hunter."

The word clicked within him. He was suddenly on his feet and darting inside. Jess struggled to catch up on his head start but she did. The came to a sudden halt in the living room at Bobby was sat at his desk. Papers were scattered around him like usual.

"Bobby! Sam is the creature from the rumor! He was stabbed a few months ago by a hunter who stopped off in Deadwood! The guy did some damage because he was on the verge of death!"

The old hunter blinked up at him. His face slowly gain an expression as his tired brain kicked into overdrive, adding up all the pieces of this frustrating puzzle. The dots were joining up.

"Christ." He rubbed at his eyes, "We were right all along... There was something going on."

"You guys knew it?" Jessica piped up from where she was hovering by the doorway. She looked alarmed.

"There has been increasing evidence over the last year which suggested that Deadwood was a hibe of something supernatural. Tens of hunter had trekked through but found nothing! All apart from one social recluse. He managed to get in and do some damage to the system ie Sam." Dean rushed to catch her up, "Theories were going crazy across the hunting community but most people didn't believe it; saw it as some sort of myth. We thought it was at least worth a look since the rumors about this place were growing thicker. So we dropped what we were doing and did some research. About two weeks later, I drove into Deadwood ready to do some undercover research."

"Yeah, we knew when each of those hunters came into town. But obviously, the didn't do it quite as well as you did as they never got beneath the skin." Jess shrugged as she leant against a bookcase, "Sam's not stupid. He knew there was... Interest in our settlement so upped surveillance. Nothing creep but just enough to know if you're causing trouble somewhere. I wouldn't really say it was needed though; you were the first hunter to come here not spoiling for blood."

The two hunters shared brief looks as they listened to the inside perspective. They'd never uncovered such information.

She continued, "I mean, we're not a problem in Deadwood. Almost every person in that town has nothing but respect and acceptance for humans. Jeez, most of us were once human ourselves. It's just are affiliation with the Actives that puts our whole organisation at risk. Hunters were a threat to what Sam had build." She shrugged before commenting thoughtfully, "You're not really very good at distinguishing between good and evil."

Dean raised a hand in her direction, "Wait, are you saying Sam build this all?"

Bobby added,"All the infrastructure? National groups advocating for Anti-violence?"

She chuckled, "He started the movement, yeah. It didn't really take too long to gain traction: 10 years. After that people were joining through word of mouth. We have settlements now across the whole of the world, not just America."

The hunters peered at each other in shock. They had been way over their heads.

----

Bobby, Dean and Jess were sat around the Tv, watching the news with absent eyes. They were all lost inside their own heads with their individual thoughts. Many revolving around this revolution for supernatural creatures and some still stuck on Samuel upstairs.

Both the hunter's gazes shot across to Jess when she grunted and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She bit her lip in an attempt at control.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked.

She glanced at her watch and cursed loudly, "Shit, I need to go right now! I'm going to change in the next hour."

"Into what?" Dean cried as he rushed out of the house, following Jessica who was stripping her clothes. She dumped them on the porch.

"I'm a werewolf."

Dean's eyes widened and he grabbed her arm to pull,"Quick! There is a barn. We can lock you inside!"

She looked hesitant but eventually gave in and allowed him to pull her toward an old barn right at the back of the property.

----

Dean was once again loitering around Sam's bed. He was cleaning some of his guns in preparation for if any of those bastards figured out where Bobby lived and came to finish off the job. He was reassembling one when a noise broke out from the other bed. Dean immediately dropped the weapon and almost fell next to Sam.

"Sammy? Did you say something?" His green eyes traced over every feature of the face looking for any sign of change. Just a twitch would be hope for the increasingly desperate hunter.

There was a movement. Sam's lips moved slightly as though he was parting them to take in oxygen. Dean grinned at this progress. Seconds later, Sam swallowed.

"Sam? Can you hear me?" He grabbed into his partner's wrist.

The tall man blinked his eyes open slowly and managed to glance up at Dean before closing his eyes again and trying to breath slowly.

"Bobby! Sam is waking up!" There was the sound of clattering on the stairs only seconds later.

"Is he awake?" Bobby asked, poking his head around the door.

"He just opened his eyes for a second. Where is Jess?" Dean didn't take his eyes of Sam during the conversation with his surrogate father.

The old man watched Sam too, "I went out an hour ago and unlocked the barn. I left it ajar so she could come out when she felt really." He explained quickly. He didn't really know how to deal with a werewolf but he was trying his best to be accommodating.

The hazel eyes opened again and focused on Dean. Sam's dry lips moved, trying to form words, "Thirsty." He murmured in a silent whisper.

Dean rushed to get the water standing on the bedside table and offered it up to the monster's lips. Sam seemed to look down at it as though it wasn't what he meant but he accepted anyway. His throat was parched as he'd not consumed anything in days. The water was like a monsoon in a drought. He slurped noisily for several moments.

"What happened?" He croaked out. Panting once he had forced out the words.

"You got stabbed by one of the Actives from the cult. You've been in a coma for days." As Dean spoke, Sam winced at the word 'actives'. Obviously, he wasn't consulted when they'd come up with it.

"Where?" Sam was clearly fighting not to fall asleep again.

"On your stomach." Dean squeezed his arm reassuringly.

"No, where are we?" The sentence was broken into words with a slow and stumbling delivery. Sweat glimmered on his forehead.

"Bobby's house. It's okay. You're safe."

Sam managed a slight nod before lying his head back into the pillow and closing his eyes. He let out a huff of pain before unconsciousness dragged him away from the burning.

Dean considered him. It was almost as though his body had forced itself out of a coma to ensure his own safety before allowing him to sleep again. It only led Dean to wonder what type of past Sam must have had if even his own damaged body couldn't completely relax to heal. The hunter rubbed his arm soothingly.

-----

It was apparently a time of action for supernatural creatures as when the two hunters ambled downstairs, Jess was outside the back door doing up the very last button of her black blouse. It was wrinkled, creased and dirty. She had a slight frown upon her pretty face as she wore it. She pushed the door and screen open as she walked inside.

"Jessica." Bobby started awkwardly, "Let me see if I have any of my wife's old clothes that you could wear instead. I'm sure there is a box somewhere that I've been meaning to take to the Goodwill." He held up a hand when she began to protest, "I need it off my hands anyway."

Once Bobby went off to search for the box, Jessica turned instantly to Dean, "What about Sam? How is he?"

"He woke up for a few minutes just a moment ago but is asleep again now." He tried not to sound as though Sam waking up had just made his day... His year. He didn't do a very good job of concealing it though as his grin was hard to hide.

"I knew the full moon would help. It would mean his Werewolf DNA was more active which would speed up healing over night." She told him as they began to climb the stairs. He was soaking up all this information just in case something terrible like this were to happen again.

They entered into the room and there was utter silence as Jessica looked over his wound and felt his temperature. She seemed to know what she was doing so Dean stood out of the way and didn't interrupt even when she placed a small white pill into Sam's mouth and forced him to swallow it down.

The Vampire/Werewolf creature only murmured in his sleep during the whole examination.

Dean jumped when Jess, while opening and peering into Sam's eyes, said, "Dean, I need to warn you... When Sam comes around he won't be normal. He won't be gentle and kind like you know him to be, at least for the first few days. His body will make him crave blood like a drug and he will definitely be bitchy and snappy. He will also be weak. He'll try to do stuff but he really can't. Even walking to the bathroom drains him of energy." She turned to face the hunter, "If you can't deal with this, I can take Sam elsewhere. I have made arrangements for other places to be available just in case something happens. We can go and come back in a week once Sam has... Had his cravings satisfied."

Dean shook his head adamantly, "We can deal with this."

She smiled as though she knew Dean was going to choose the right choice all along.

Chapter 10 Chapter Text

Dean was sat sideways in an armchair, his legs hanging over the left arm. He had a book on vampire lore on his lap but he had been staring at the diagram for the last hour. He was lost in his mind as he considered Sam and what would happen next or what would happen in the next few years. Could they stay together? Realistically no but he had a deep hope that they could.

The diagram depicted a vampire leaning over an innocent, sleeping woman. The vampire had its fangs descended and arms raised menacingly. It's shadow, which was made by the large moon outside the open window, stretched across the bed so it covered the woman. You could see each line where the artist had scratched out the drawing. The eyes were pure black, almost as though the author had made a mistake so scribbled them out.

Suddenly, there was a smashing sound.

Dean, Bobby and Jessica's eyes all shot up as though to look through the ceiling. Moments later they were all running up the stairs to Sam's bedroom. Jessica made it first as she had a minor head start on the boys. She stood in the doorway and held a hand to he chest in relief.

The glass which had held the water lay in shards on the floor. Sam's arm was hanging off the bed where he had swung to reach the glass but over estimated how much force would be required and knocked it straight onto the floor.

She marched forward and hoisted the man up slightly until he was leaning up against his pillows. She then quickly collected the shards.

"You've been awake 30 seconds and you're already wrecking the place!" She scolded with a light jokey tone.

It took a while for his brain to collect the words as he eventually replied with, "I'm sorry." But his heart wasn't in it.

"Can I get you anything?" Bobby asked, eager to help.

"Thirsty." Sam murmured again.

"I'll get you another glass of water." The old man said while wandering off.

Sam's eyes shot to Jess' and they shared a look. They both knew this wasn't going to be an easy few weeks with their new hunter friends hanging around.

"I need my Paramathadone." The injured man's gaze bore into the blanket.

"I've already given you two... I'm sorry." She sighed, "You have to decide when to take the last one."

"Paramathadone?" Dean asked from where he had been stood silently by the door for the last few minutes. He stepped closer.

Sam dropped his gaze again which left only the woman to reply, "It helps with bringing out or subduing certain strands of his DNA. The one I've been giving him has been encouraging the werewolf side but trying to minimize the symptoms his vampire side would be suffering. Like the blood craving. They're not all that effect if I'm honest."

"And you're bringing the werewolf forward to encourage healing?"

She nodded.

---

It was two days later but Sam was actually up and moving around. Weak and uncertain steps but it was still progress. Jess seemed hesitate to leave him for too long. Dean couldn't figure out if this was for Sam's safety or she knew something that they didn't.

However, she had been right when she said he would be different. He was quiet but when he did speak it was harsh and scolding. Dean couldn't help but wonder whether Sam noticed this change within himself. But if he was honest, he just wanted his old Sammy back.

Sam was sat on the back porch. His large hand was lifted by his mouth as shaking fingertips brushed against his lips. He stared off vacantly. He'd been out there all morning and it was now almost noon.

The younger hunter sat on the porch too but he could feel Jess looking out at them every few minutes. Her care was bordering on obsessive but he didn't want to piss off another supernatural creature.

"Your hands are shaking." Dean watched the man's movements carefully.

Sam peered down at his hands and rolled his eyes, "Yeah, good job."

"Does this always happen?" The hunter asked with patience.

Sam nodded, "It's blood cravings. It happens during a normal day." He stretched out his digits and manipulated his hand as the tremors shook him. The tendons moved beneath the layer of cold, tanned skin. "It's just easier to control when I'm not like this."

"What will you do? What did you do last time?" Dean pushed.

There was silence.

Sam's hazel eyes met his for a millisecond before the creature was up and trying to stalking away into the scrap yard. His tall figure meant that the hunter could watch him over the cars until he disappeared into the distance. His movements were pained and slower than usual but Dean didn't care.

---

"Why didn't you tell us?!" Dean hissed through his teeth. He jolted towards Jess, making her fall back further against the wall.

The younger hunter was towering over her, his face red and teeth grinding together. A vein was accentuated in his forehead. The pressure was building under his skull.

"What we're we supposed to say?" He cowered against the wall in the living room, he hands raised to protect herself, "It's not something Sam's allowed to do while in the public eye. He hates himself for it."

"But us?! You didn't even tell us?!" He ground out further, leaning closer into her space.

"We couldn't. It was too much of a risk!" She squeaked.

"I can't believe it!" The Winchester growled and turned away from her. He grabbed his jacket and slung it over his shoulder. With only a single glance at Bobby, he was making for the door. A scowl stretched his mouth downwards.

He slammed the door and began marching up the long drive to where the Impala was waiting. He jumped in and drove.

It was only 20 minutes later that his cell phone rang. He ignored it at first but it was too demanding.

"Yes?"

"Dean?" It was a voice of a hunter he barely knew, "Shit is going down. What do we need to do?"

Dean's lips curled back in a snarl to reveal his teeth. He glared into the distance as he spoke.

"How fast can you get to Sioux Falls? We have isolated the key player in their schemes. Bring something to do some damage."

----

The sound of insects singing in the dusk air was disrupted by the heavy grumble of a Midnight Impala. Jess heard it coming before any human ear could but she didn't move from where she was perched on the edge of the couch, watching Bobby in the armchair.

Bobby looked up when the sound finally reached him.

They swallowed.

It only took a few minutes before the front door was swinging shut and heavy boots where thudding against the old wood of the floorboards. They floor creaked as he moved along the corridor. He made it to the doorway and peered in at the people.

"What's wrong?" He noticed the atmosphere immediately.

Jess looked up at him, eyes red and puffy. She looked away without answering the question. She wiped at her eye.

Bobby, realising Jessica wasn't going to offer the information, spoke up, "He hasn't come back. Anything could have happened to him."

The blonde woman shook her head and peered at her fingers as another salty droplet of water travelled down her cheek. She scrubbed it away with the back of her sleeve.

"Maybe it's for the best." Dean offered.

Jess saw red. She shot to her feet and strode up to the hunter. She hissed, her voice laced with poison, "You may see him as a monster, plague on mankind, something to be wiped out but to me he is family! He is all I've had for 10 years!" The sobs were spurred on by the fury, "And I don't care if you're a hunter and he's a monster! He is more of a man then you will ever be! He saved my life!" She screamed it at Dean. The tears leaving glistening trails, "You people only live so you can kill and destroy! Sam has created peace and stability for a community damaged and dangerous! If he is dead the human race has lost their last shred of hope against us."

Her lip trembled before she fled up the stairs.

Dean stood watching black with shock. He blinked after he retreating figure. He had never seen Jessica get so riled up by anything or anyone in the whole time they knew each other. He glanced to Bobby for reassurance.

The old man was still in his armchair but he was avoiding the younger man's gaze. Disappointment. He didn't move.

"Did I do the right thing?" Dean begged his father figure for agreement.

The old man sighed, "What did you do?"

Dean blinked and bit his lip before revealing that he had spoken to several hunter over the last several hours with the plan to eliminate Sam.

---
A hand forced his face upwards as though begging for mercy from the Lord. It was warm in his mouth. Another hand grabbed his neck to trigger the swallowing response. It trickled down his throat like silk. His rough tongue ground against the roof of his mouth to savor the scarce flavor.

The hand held his head in position and he was too weak to protest. The crimson filled up the cave of his mouth until it began over flowing down his cheeks and neck. He gulped at the addictive substance. As his throat pulled the liquid down, his fangs bit into the red in automatic response.

He could feel it warming his body. His cells catching on fire in a way he'd never experienced. His eyes were black but his lids shielded that truth. He licked his lips. The life seeping.

"There, you filthy bat!" The voice sneered, "Drink it all."

Sam could feel his mind fighting a losing battle against his body's natural functions. The first drip of blood that hit his tongue caused a spark within him. It ignited him.

His muscles were twitching. The energy overloading the system resulting in small spazms. In a matter of minutes he would be at his high and there would be no going back. He knew it.

He had forgotten the taste of blood. It was like heroin.

He could feel the heavy metal clasps around his wrists, undoubtably securing him to a wall. He'd found himself in similar positions more than once as various hunters have decided to test him out; tried to see what makes him tick and what makes him die. He knew what would happen next but he began to care less and less and his conscience leaked away.

He felt his muscles tightening. The metal holding him in began to groan. His lips curled into a smirk. He could almost taste what was coming next.

---

The two hunters and the werewolf ran into the abandoned house at full speed. They only stopped when they saw a flash of red in one of the rooms. However, there was only silence.

Tentatively, Jess stepped around the corner followed by the humans. They peered around the room. Iron wrist restraints were partly in the wall and partly across the floor. Smears of blood were patterned onto the brickwork.

Jess gasped when she turned and saw the dead body slumped against the wall behind the door. The man's head was leaning down on his chest and his face was pale like snow. Blood was wiped all over his dark shirt as though a child had tried to do some art.

With the very tips of her fingers, Jess knocked his head to the side to reveal to red puncture wounds on the side of his neck. She bit the inside of her lip. Trickles of blood were running down his neck but they didn't trail very far as the man had been practically drained.

"Fuck." She murmured.

Quickly, she strode over to the wall and smelt the blood drying there. Her strong sense coming into use.

"It's not Sam's and not this poor bastards." He turned to the two silent hunters, even for them this was out of their depth, "The hunter must have force fed Sam human blood. It's not uncommon."

"And Sam killed Jeff?" Dean managed to ask, staring down at the motionless body. A blood coated knife lay beside him, mere inches from the tips of his fingers. In some way, Dean knew he was responsible for this. If he hadn't sent Jeff in then he wouldn't have ended up dead.

"The first touch of human blood in Sam's mouth would be like a recovering drug addict trying their drug of choice. It would mentally change him, especially while he is so weak. It's kinda like he is possessed... It's only happened a few times before but this isn't going to be pretty. Usually Sam has the strength to at least try and fight off its effect." Her eyes were sad and heavy, "He is going to be like a newly born vampire. Nothing can quench his thirst."

Dean looked up at Bobby. They shared a moment of panic between them.

"What are we supposed to do?" The younger man asked, his tongue darted out to moisten his cracking lips.

"He won't be able to ru for long. I reckon that in 6 hours he will collapse and in 6 days he will start craving blood again and in 6 months he will be able to abstain from blood completely." The sweat on her hands got wiped off onto her jeans, "So, in 6 hours we find him."

"6 hours?!" Bobby burst. "He could go miles in 6 hours! He could kill hundreds of people!"

Dean's colleague sighed and rubbed her eyes, "He is having a power surge while on foot. Hopefully he'll still find that pretty disorienting but that's all we can do. Nothing you guys have could ever stop him and a werewolf doesn't have a chance up again a hybrid."

"That man is a fucking pain in my ass."

Jess smiled gently like she was trying to reassure, "You should have ran for the hills that time I made you clean out the fridge."

---

The blood pounded in his head and he stumbled. He thought it was a branch but it could have possibly been a curb. He couldn't remember what happened 30 seconds ago and couldn't plan more than 30 seconds in advance. His mind was all consumed with the thirst and the raging power.

Blood was trickling down his chin, he could feel it; it was still warm. He couldn't remember his last provider but he could still taste how their blood had a different flavour from the one before. His tongue moved wildly around his mouth in a desperate attempt to come in contact with the life-giving substance.

He could hear a person. Their heartbeat strong and steady. He didn't stop or hesitate before he leapt on them. Her blood was fragrant and sung for his lips. He had no chance of resisting.

---

"Okay, we are getting close." She tried to cover her nose, "He smells terrible."

Bobby had an exceedingly negative feeling about this as they walked into the outskirts of town. Houses and shops were becoming more frequent here. Sam could have done so much damage with so many innocent civilians around.

"There!" Jess pointed into the dark a few meters away. A figure was lying across a bench with another dark figure lurking over the top. "Sam!" She cried and darted forward.

The standing figure, a mere stranger, stumbled back at the sudden cry. His eyes shot over to the people running towards him and relaxed slightly. He'd clearly been concerned about the blood staining Sam's shirt and was considering calling an ambulance for the unconscious vampire.

"What's happened?" Dean barked as soon as they were close enough to the stranger to communicate. He could see Sam stretched out across the bench.

The man gave a light shrug and gestured down at Sam, "I was coming home from work when I saw this guy lying like this. D'you think he's drunk? He isn't waking up when I speak to him." The man sounded panicked like he'd be trying to bring the vampire around for the last few minutes.

"Yeah," Jess lied, "He's gone through a nasty breakup. I'm just glad we found him in time!" She smiled at the man to convey her gratitude before kneeling beside Sam to check his vitals. His heart was hammering in his chest but he seemed overall unhurt. "He always gets into fights." She tuts, forming an excuse for the stains.

"Come on, boys. Let's get him home." On her command, Bobby and Dean pulled Sam up and wrapped their arms around his torso. They balanced his weight, which was a lot, and began the 15 minute slog back to the scrap yard.

Sam's head bobbed against his chest with each step they took. His hair was flipping down over his eyes.

Dean desperately tried to avoid looking at the blood on Sam's muscled torso. Splatters and drips decorated his shirt. His verdant eyes kept twitching to the stains and Bobby noticed. He tried to hide his chuckle.

"He still has blood on him." He hissed to his friend.

Bobby laughed, "Oh so now you're getting squeamish?"
---

He wasn't certain it would be safe for them to be in the house with Sam but Jessica disagreed. She knew him better than anyone so they took her word as truth. They'd laid Sam out on the couch as the climb on the stairs would've required too much energy.

The creature remained unconscious for a few hours, not even waking when Jessica slipped the last pale pill into his mouth and forced a swallow. He moved slightly in his sleep and occasionally murmured something. His lips moved.

It almost felt like Sam had been out and gotten himself drunk. It would explain the unconsciousness and sudden uncontrollable behaviour. But Dean knew that Sam was suffering from a different type of intoxication.

He was coming down the stairs when he heard the first noise: a sob caught in a throat. There was then sudden movement and the hunter continued downstairs to explore.

The couch was empty and somehow Sam had launched himself at the kitchen sink. He had his fingers stretched down his throat to force himself to vomit. He kept trying but didn't work. He leant forward and rested his head against the cool basin. His shoulders rocked.

There was a roar of anger and the shirt was ripped from the creature's torso. His fist was white with pressure before he threw the material at the far wall. Sam's back glistened with sweat and he panted due to the anger. Fury pumped through his veins.

Dean watched the back of the man as his head turned to stare at the plate beside him. His muscular arm swung out and sent the china flying through the air until it impacted the far wall. It shattered into tiny pieces under the impact. Sam's shoulders still rose and fell violently. He gagged as he tried to force himself to expel the blood.

Jessica stumbled upon the scene next. More accustomed to Sam, she immediately spoke instead of just watching like the hunter.

"Sam?" Her voice was sympathetic.

The creature glanced over his shoulder but didn't turn around. He stared back down at the plug hole.

She continued, "It's not your fault. You have to know that, right?"

"Not my fault?" Bitter and darkness shrouded the muttered syllables.

Dean had to strain to hear the words. He shuffled a little closer.

"How was it not my fault, lupus." He murmured. "What did I do?"

Jess recoiled, "Firstly, there is no need to be derogatory. Secondly, you know better than to torture yourself like this... Especially after last time."

Dean found himself speaking before he was aware of it, "Last time?"

Jess shook her head viciously. Her eyes screamed of panic.

"It doesn't matter." Dean mumbled. He felt eyes on him so, staring at the floor, he exited the kitchen but remained close enough to hear. He was tired of being left out of the loop. He and Bobby were already playing catch up with all this information.

He listened.

"Not again. Sam, please." Begging clear in her voice.

"You don't want me to torture myself? Not like the torture my victims felt as they had their blood drained from them? I took their lives, Jessica. The least I could do would be to feel fucking bad about it."

"Sam. You don't just feel bad about it. You let it drain you. It changes you."

"For the better." He responded curtly. "You should get some sleep."

The silence dominated until Jess tutted and marched off in the direction of the stairs. Her steps where heavy as they were laden with anger and exhaustion.

"And you, Dean." The voice was tired, withdrawn and drained. It was distinctly human.

The hunter didn't argue. He knew Sam wasn't in the mood for negotiations and jokes. The carried himself off to bed without a single word to his ex-lover.

---

Sam turned on the radio with a soft click. It was fuzzy for a moment while he adjusted the antenna. It was pre-programmed into the local news so he left it there. He didn't need it loud which was handy as it didn't disturb the sleeping individuals above him. He missed sleeping for hours on end; these days he never slept for more than a couple hours. He just was never tired.

He sat down at the kitchen table with his dead eyes gazing ahead. His hands were folded calmly and with great control.

The radio voice crackled.

"We've just had some breaking news! One man, identified as Paul Ballen, was discovered dead several hours ago in the gas station where he was working the night shift. Nothing was stolen but blood had appeared to be drained and rumors are suggesting it could be part of a satanic ritual. Police are warning citizens to remain calm but to be vigilant and not to travel alone. We'll bring you more on this story as it unfolds so stays tuned in folks!"

Sam gently rested his head against the cold wood of the table surface. Hazel eyes piercing the wall. He blinked slowly and infrequently as his mind span. He tuned out but knew the key words on which to resume playing acute attention on.

It was less than an hour later that another announcement was made.

"Breaking news! Police a warning people to stay indoors and insure all doors and windows are locked as a second body has been discovered in the last few minutes. The unidentified woman appeared to have been walking her dog near the woods when she was killed. The dog lead was still wrapped around her hand but there is no sign of the pet. Stay tuned for live updates."

Sam's eyelids slid closed. Tears were wetting his face and dripping onto the table. He felt the shame all the way to his stomach. He'd made it his life work to protect humans from supernatural harm and now he had another two lives to add to his personal list. Innocent people with families and homes with individual lives and dreams. He felt sick.

He knew there would be more. Not only because he could taste them on his tongue but also because there always was more. It never stopped at just one or just two. He wasn't so naive to expect that.

He listened to every report and every detail. To hear about his victims' lives and loved ones was torture but he was more than willing to endure it. It was nowhere near enough.

---

Sam knew his senses were not focused as the first warning that someone else was in the room came when the radio, in the midst of a report, snapped off. It plunged the room into silence. Sam smelt the air. It was Bobby.

He didn't lift his head from the table and kept his eyes closed.

There was a squeak of noises. From the floorboards, the coffee machine and finally the chair opposite. The creature could track the hunters movements purely by sound. The old man seemed to both know and appreciate that fact.

"So you've been listening." The hunter opened casually, referring to the news reports.

"Don't bother telling me not to." He grumbled, still not moving.

"Why would I do that? I think you should listen." He shrugged even though Sam wasn't watching. He could probably sense the movement. "What you did was wrong. To just sweep it under the rug would make you a monster. At least you still have enough humanity to play respect and recognize what you've done."

"I come from a time where we'd have respect for each other. I think that's why Jess doesn't really understand. It's a different culture within the supernatural community these days." He proclaims in a monotone voice.

"When are you from?" Bobby asked curiously.

Sam's eyes opened so he could gage the reaction, "I was developed in the late 1800s. It was a complex process of growing and incubating genetic material and stuff. Hunters at that time were actually pretty more advanced than the general populace."

"You're older than me." Bobby blinked in shock at the 25 year old man in front of him.

"I have a good moisturizing routine." His lips gave a twitch to show he was joking but didn't actually manage a smile.

Sam stood suddenly and turned on the radio. He placed his head back onto the table and closed his eyes. More details were pouring in about the 5 murdered individuals. He stayed stock still and listened. He awaited the rest.

Chapter 11 Chapter Text

"So what are we going to do?" Dean hissed to Bobby. The younger hunter shut the barn door as he snuck in where Bobby was working on a truck.

The elder hunter frowned at him and leant against the body of the vehicle. His oily hands lifted his cap and scratched at his thinning hair underneath. Bobby's eyes watched the other man carefully.

"Last time you tried to do something you unintentionally caused the murders of five people." Bobby reminded him harshly. He was always one for tough love.

"Not with Sam... Just in general."

"I really don't know enough about this supernatural war to just wade in and start planning tactics."

Dean sighed and sat on a crate by the door. His calloused palm wiped at his weary face, "You're right. We are so out of our depth."

---

It was the next day when they realised something was happening. It was gone noon but Jess and Sam hadn't left the guest room all day which was particularly bizarre considering how Sam only usually slept 1-3 hours every night.

They'd actually partly forgotten about their supernatural visitors until there was a loud crash which refreshed their memories. Both hunters looked up at the ceiling in exasperation before they set off for the stairs.

Sam and Jessica were sat on opposite beds with their heads leant together in conspiracy. A large map was set out between their knees as Sam's finger was tracing along a line. Sam was talking enthusiastically while Jessica looked utterly appalled at the concept. Nevertheless, her eyes followed where Sam's finger led.

"This is a stupid idea, Sam." She was ranting.

Dean wanted to be clued up on whatever idea this Werewolf and hybrid were cultivating, "What idea?" Dean interrupted their flow.

Jess rolled her eyes in clear objection to the plan as she explained it, "Sam has been summoned to Kansas and he actually wants to go. I swear, Sam, this is the blood talking."

Dean stilled looked blankly at the people on the beds. Jessica could see his expression so elaborated.

"During war, there is a tradition of summoning your enemy to a specific place for a fight to the death. Whoever wins gains control of the whole community. It's bullshit."

"Stop making it sound so batshit crazy!" Sam cried, clearly feeling targeted, "It's an honourable tradition!"

"Like you give a fuck about tradition, Sam." She hissed.

Bobby spoke up, "You've partaken in one of these before?"

Sam nodded then wiped his large palm over his face, "Several. They're never pretty but they're sometimes necessary." He admitted as though he was haunted by the memory.

"When is it then?" Dean burst, "We can all go and help."

Sam peered down at the map to avoid every set of eyes in the room. Jessica took it upon herself to explain.

"It doesn't work like that. It's between the two people who are fighting to lead. Nobody can interfere."

"Just don't go then!" The younger hunter stepped forward.

Sam shook his head where it hung down low. It took him a few moments to gather an answer. He brushed his hair out of his handsome face when he finally managed to lift his head, "I have to go. Otherwise, it automatically goes to the opposition by default."

Dean's mouth hung open and Bobby babbled for something to say which would somehow solve the issue. There was a silence as everyone in the room scoured their minds for a hint of information which would be helpful and perhaps release Sam from this bond that he no way wanted to partake in.

"I leave tomorrow morning." Sam's words rang out throughout the room.

-----

Sam was ready to leave by the time everyone else had finally woken up. He had a small bag which he would carry with him to Kansas where he planned to defeat his enemies and continue this period of peace he had created for those supernatural creatures around the world.

He wasn't even sure who'd show up to fight him. Perhaps one of those from the clearing but he hoped not as he didn't have high chances against an enchanter. Strength holds nothing against magic and curses.

Even he knew this was verging on a suicide mission but he had to try.

"What's going to happen?" Dean asked Jessica as they stood on the porch and watched Sam walk out to a car he was taking.

"I don't know." Her voice was soft, "I wasn't around for the last time."

The Rays from the rising sun reflected of the trail of water on her cheek which was left by a single falling tear.

Dean watched this man go and felt a tugging in his chest. Despite everything that had happened he still remembered what they had before everything collapsed around them. He could remember how Sam would hold him close and look at him as though nothing in the world matter as much as he did. Dean prayed to every deity that he didn't believe in that Sam would return triumphant but, most importantly, safe.

---

The car was quiet but Sam couldn't bring himself to switch on the radio. The disturbance of the crisp silence seemed almost unsanctified on his journey. He chewed at his lip in worry and the urge to vomit only increased as the distance decreased. He didn't know what was waiting ahead of him but what he did know was that he was prepared to fight for what he believed in. He wanted peace and no barbarian who wanted to live by the rules of the dark ages would take that away from him.

The road stretched ahead of him, smooth and unwavering. He breathed and fought onwards.

He considered Dean. Their relationship had altered beyond belief since the reveal of not only what he was but the whole community he had built. He missed what they were but knew that Dean would no longer want him. The hunter was only sticking around now to ensure everything remained in its usual homeostasis amongst the supernatural.

He saw the first sign for Kansas several hours later. The waiting was killing him.

---

"That's it!" Cried Dean, throwing himself out of the armchair he'd been sat in for several hours and grabbing weapons. He hurried around the house at full speed.

"What are you doing?" The woman asked from across the room. Her eyes watched him suspiciously.

"I'm going to Kansas. Even if we can't help we can at least be there for whatever happens to Sam afterwards!" He ran out to the Impala where he stashed more weapons. "You coming?" He called into the house.

Jessica and Bobby shared a brief consulting look before they both grabbed their belongings and headed out to the front of the house. Jess jumped into Baby with Dean while the older man followed behind in his old but reliable truck.

We're coming for you, Sammy. Dean thought to himself.
----

He was in a clearing again. Sam could never understand why Supernatural creatures found comfort in hiding in the woodlands. He personally found a nice lounge or conference room far more appealing.

Things were cracking underfoot as he slowly paced around the small area; he didn't want to be caught out unaware. His hazel eyes constantly scanned the trees around him. He knew someone would be on their way any minute now to try and kill him.

His senses particularly alert, he heard a sound from amongst the trees behind him. He turned immediately to face his enemy. Out stepped a tall man with dark skin. His eyes shone, giving hints to his supernaturalness.

"Who are you?" Sam called to the man. He was a stranger which was not something Sam had expected. He knew nothing about this creature which put him greatly at a disadvantage. The man eyed him almost predatory in nature and they began to circle each other instinctively.

"I'm offended you have to ask." The man's voice was low and almost sounded heavy. "I've been watching you for so long, Samuel." His steps were powerful.

"Surely you would have had the curtesy to introduce yourself? People get all sorts of ideas when people lurk in the shadows." Sam's voice was light and polite. Purposely unthreatening as he trod.

"I did not lurk, sir. I just didn't make myself particularly pronounced to your little circus. I'm sure you wouldn't understand since you're not a pure blood." He scoffed and stepped closer to Sam.

Sam knew the rituals and traditions, he had no choice but to step further into the ring too. He leant his head until his neck clicked loudly. He smelt the air and was relieved that nobody else was close by. On one occasion many years ago, his opponent had hidden others in the forest with a plan to all kill Sam at once. He had been lucky to survive.

"I'm not a Pure Blood but I want peace and that's it."

"We can't have that, can we?" The man grinned, "It looks as though we have a conflict of interest." He needed the violence within him. He enjoyed death.

The man leapt toward Sam and, while mid-air, he transformed. A large wolf landed on Sam, sending him falling backwards onto the hard floor. The wolf already had an advantage.

Closing his eyes for barely a second, Sam bought forward what dwelled deep within his very being. His fangs descended and eyes became black. He pushed the large wolf off easily and it fell several feet. It hardly stumbled though as it was already jumping back up at Sam's neck. The hybrid used his razor sharp claws to create great gashes on the beasts chest. However, it wasn't enough as the dog managed to bite at Sam's neck. It only punctured the skin as the animal didn't have enough force to continue forward.

"You bastard!" Sam howled, leaping on top of his enemy.

The wolfs teeth nashed up at him getting dangerously close to his skin. It span, sending Sam flying off and it was on top of him again. This time his jaws gained a hold on the vampire's forearm.

Sam cried out as the beast twisted, pulling out chunks of flesh.

It suddenly become apparent to Sam that this was serious. It was going to be a fight to the death so unless he actually started to fight back he would be the one lying dead.

Sam leant up, fighting against the heavy weight, and bit into the neck. It was a hard manoeuvre considering how the dog was leaning down and tugging relentlessly at Sam's limb. He felt his teeth penetrate the skin and push through the wall of an artery. He could feel the pressure inside the blood-tube suddenly drop pressure.

The wolf wasn't satisfied with the turn of events so darted off Sam and prepared for another attack. Sam scrambled to his feet. Blood was rushing from his arm but he focused hard on his opponent. This time Sam was the first to attack as he wanted the upper hand.

He threw himself at the dog and pushed hard so it hit a tree. A yelp crackled in the air. Sam felt guilt stir in his chest but he knew that such emotions were not suited to such an environment. He forced himself to once again go for the wolf.

It leapt at the same time so they met in mid-air. It's jaws hard on Sam's neck. He could feel it puncturing and also restricting the air supply. He pushed back against the weight but the animal had predicted his move so remained low and heavy. It shifted to tighten its grip and Sam clawed at it but his most powerful weapon was being held at bay. He tried to shift out of the wolf's grip but each movement caused the long teeth to dig deeper.

Sam's heart was beating with less strength. He couldn't die like this but once he was unconscious his opponent could easily behead him.

He fought but a new weight was absorbing into his muscles making it hard to move like he were swimming through mud. He battled. His blood and the wolf's made it slippery as he tried again to gain purchase so he could throw it off. His hands slipped and the weight was too much. He couldn't breath.

His claws dug in as a last attempt to free himself. He ripped the beast's sides and undercarriage until it was merely blood and ribbons of flesh. He couldn't see the gore from where he head was being tugged left and right but his fingers could feel it. The beast thrashed harder on his neck in retaliation for the pain.

Screw the traditional beheading, Sam thought, He's just going to rip my head off like this.

There was a noise in the undergrowth but neither of them were alert enough with their surroundings to notice it.

Moments later the wolf was flat on top of Sam, the body limp and heavy. He let it rest there as he just breathed. Replenishing his body with much needed oxygen and closed his eyes.

Somebody else was speaking. They rolled the beast off Sam and began touching him. I
He felt as though he was in a bubble. The voice outside echoed around his head, not quite making sense to him.

Someone touched his face gently.

He heard more voices approaching, getting louder.

He blinked his eyes open but blood got into his eyes making him squint in pain. He weakly rubbed at his eyes with is relatively undamaged arm until the tears had washed it away. A pair of hands encouraged him to sit up.

"Dean?" The hunter slowly came into focus. What was he doing here?

"It's okay, Sammy." He hugged him close despite the blood staining every surface of Sam's body. "We're here. I've got you."

The hunter began wrapping some old fabric against the destroyed arm to stop the bleeding. He squeezed it tightly. The blood instantly began to color the light blood fabric a deep red. Sam swallowed back the nausea.

Jess entered his field of vision, "Sam, you need to change." He commanded harshly.

"I- I can't." He managed to speak. His voice was begging her not to make him change. He leant back again Dean's capable hands.

"He'd change into a wolf?" Jess nodded as Dean's question, "Why does he need to change?"

Despite her panic, she managed to answer calmly and thoroughly, "The wolf body is the best for healing. Wounds that would take a human weeks to heal can be completed in a day. He needs to change so he can survive."

"He didn't change last time." The hunter protested, referring back to the silver poisoning Sam dealt with a short time before.

"That's different. Silver is a poison so wouldn't work as well but these are just surface wounds." She argued. She knew what Sam needed but everyone was preventing her from making him do what is right.

"Jess, I can't." The weak voice broke out again.

"Sam, it'll be painful and it'll make you unconscious but you and I both know this is the only way. I'm not going to lose you after everything!"

There was a moment of silence, Dean and Bobby were unaware of what to say. Nothing could make this situation better. Only Jess and Sam had any right to comment upon what was happening. They were the only ones that knew the process.

"Okay." He whispered.

Jess pulled the hunters back so they were several feet from the injured man. He was lying in a puddle of blood and tiny waves of Crimson lapped at the shores which each breath Sam took. He lay alone.

He closed his eyes and forcefully increased his breathing. A wave of pain washed over him, drenching him. It caused him to manipulate his body into unnatural positions. The man screamed and Dean had to prevent himself from running at his partner. He needed to hold the trembling man. He never imagined a transformation including this much pain.

Pain again, almost constant now. Sam's back arched, bringing him off the floor of the woodland. His face glimmered with sweat, tears and blood.

"What is he doing?" Dean cried. He couldn't take his eyes off the gory process.

"He has to trigger a change." Jess had tears in her eyes, "It's painful to change normally. It's excruciating to force s change even when you're a full werewolf. To force a change when you're only a percent wolf... I can't even imagine it. It's going against every other programmed DNA within him. To add to the changes, his own body is trying to kill itself. Vampire, shifter, human; all that doesn't want a werewolf in it. It'd prefer to self destruct."

Her words accompanied the snapping of bones and the screams which were morphing into howls.

Minutes later a wolf was lying amongst the blood. It's coat so matted with the Crimson liquid that Dean couldn't make out it's actual color. It was hard to gage whether to process was complete because the howls and halted altogether several minutes ago as it fell unconscious.

Dean, Jess and Bobby stepped closer.

The youngest hunter dropped down and touched the fur gently. Up close, he could still see the deep and ugly wounds littering it's body. It was still bleeding but less prolifically. The front leg was mangled and looked beyond repair but Dean trusted the wolf's abilities.

"Can you carry him?" Jess whispered to Dean as though in fear of waking Sam.

Dean nodded. Bobby helped gather Sam into Dean's arms but the wolf was too large and too heavy. Instead he had to hold him over his shoulder in a fireman's lift.

"Come on," Bobby spoke, "Let's get back."

"What about him?" Dean nodded his head toward the dead body lying in the clearing.

Jess sighed and shook her head sadly, "They have to find a loser to make it official."

They clambered back through the trees the way they had scrambled through earlier that day. They didn't have much light left so they prayed they'd reach to cars soon.

----

It had been weird to see a huge wolf lying in the back of Bobby's truck but it was even weirder to see the massive creature laid out on the wooden slats of the back porch. They'd been back for several hours and Sam still hadn't woken up. The hunters' concern grew but Jess didn't seem overly worried.

She held out a bucket of warm soapy water and Dean took it. He knelt down in front of the animal and pulled the sponge out. He began washing Sam and the water running off him instantly turned a brown from dried blood. The matts became loose and, with more work and gentle encouragement, eventually fell away completely.

There were still severe wounds but the rate of healing, despite Jessica's warning, had completed blown Dean away. He'd seen nothing like it in his life. The only part which still needed bandaging was his front leg which was bleeding a little. His neck was almost completely healed as he only had small scabs over the previously large wounds.

As the blood washed away it revealed the colour of Sam's coat. He had the same markings of a husky, mainly white but with hazel brown patternings. Dean's fingers followed the markings as though they were sacred.

"He's beautiful." He murmured.

Jess smiled beside him, "You really think so?"

The hunter blushed, embarrassed at being heard but nodded again, "In both forms."

Jessica grinned from ear to ear and continued washing the animal down.

Once they were finished they left him sleeping on the porch so the strong midday sun could begin to dry him off. Secretly, Dean couldn't wait to see Sam in all his wolf glory.

----

Sam's head moved slightly; only a mere twitch backward but it was enough to have Dean sprinting across the room to where Sam was placed on the sofa with his legs stretched out in front of him. The wolf's ears moved forward and Dean knew it was Sam listening and assessing his surroundings. The last time he'd been conscious he was in the middle on a forest with blood pouring out of him like a burst juice cartoon.

"Sam?" Dean muttered quietly, reaching out a hand.

Sam's head shot up and his eyes darted around the room. His gaze finally settled on his hunter. The wolf's deep brown eyes were an identical color to Sam's (aside from being more animal like in nature) and they gazed at Dean intently.

The wolf nudged at Dean's hand until he began to stroke him and scratch behind his large ears. The creature closed its eyes in bliss. It's heavy jaw fell open and his tongue lolled out lazily. This fur heavy chest took deep breaths and seemed to verge on sleep.

Dean moved his hand away to shift so he could sit on the floor beside the couch. Sam immediately raised his head and let out a high-pitched whine.

"Jeez," Dean grumbled as he quickly resumed stroking the animal, "You really are a diva, you know that?"

The large tail hit against the back of the couch in response. Sam almost seemed to be grinning.

"Freakin' dog."

Jess strolled in a while later to see an extremely bored hunter petting a blissed out wolf. She couldn't hold in her giggles at the sight. Her petit hand hovered over her mouth as she laughed.

"What?" The Winchester barked defensively. His lips formed a disgruntled pout, "He won't let me stop."

"You just have to leave. Once you start it's hard to stop." The werewolf advised between bursts of giggles.

Dean pushed himself off the floor and strode into the kitchen. He struggled to ignore the sharp whines and moans that leaked from Sam. The wolf sounded as though his heart was being broken. Jessica followed the hunter into the next room as Sam began to quiet down.

"Honestly, you're terrible." She laughed over her shoulder to her boss.

Dean leant against the counter but turned to face the woman, "When will he change back?"

She sighed, which seemed to be something she did frequently when dealing with the hunters, and mumbled, "I don't know."

"Wait! How can you not know?!" He panicked.

"It's not only the physical that needs healing, Dean! He needs time to recover emotionally. He was nearly killed." She frowned at him as though he was some inconsiderate youth. "It's still Sam's thoughts and everything but the wolf's emotions are far more basic then as a person. At the moment he could never deal with the full gamut of human emotion. It gives him time to recover."

"How long will it take?" A little more subdued, the hunter asked.

"It could be a few days or a few weeks. It depends on when he is ready." Jessica said patiently and waited a moment before leaving the kitchen to go and see Sam.

Dean pulled out a chair from the table and fell down into it. He rested his head in his hands to think. He had so many things he wanted to say to Sam but the man was stuck as a wolf. He needed to talk with him soon.

---

"I've got to go into town." Bobby mumbled as he grabbed his keys from the counter. A paper grocery list pinched between his fingers as he squinted down at his own barely legible scrawl.

Dean's head shot up from where he was still sat at the table. He leapt to his feet, "I'll go."

There was a moment as Bobby watched the young man suspiciously. His eyes inspected his face, "Good. You can take Sam." The hunter turned away making it clear that there wasn't going to be any argument about the matter.

Dean just wanted to get away; he'd been in an enclosed space with the same three people for several weeks. His hunter instincts wanted to run and move. He sighed and resigned himself to obey.

It was only a few minutes later that Dean had his arms folded and a deep scowl on his face. Verdant green eyes burnt into the animal's. The wolf was sat at the passenger door to the midnight black Impala with his bushy tail flicking up dirty as it wagged. The large pink tongue hung heavily from it's jaw.

For the first time, the hunter cursed Sam's love for vintage cars. Why couldn't he be passionate about beat up old trucks?!

"We're not taking Baby." Dean growled, his knuckles turning white as he squeezed his keys.

Sam whined and shifted closer. He kept rising and sitting as though his excitement physically prevented him from sitting still. The wolf raised a paw and touched it to the door with a gentle care; his claws clicked against the hot metal.

"Don't you dare scratch her!" Dean barked, leaning down to rub at the mint condition paint work, "Anyway, I have a rule you don't take a joint from a guy named Don and there's no dogs in the car!"

Sam seemed oblivious to Dean's frustration as he merely edged closer and whined again. This time he touched his damp nose to the door as though asking for it to be opened. Dark eyes boring into the sleek metal as if willpower could open it.

"No, Sam." Dean crossed his arms, "It's not happening."

---
-20 minutes later-

The Impala roared underneath them as the Tarmac disappeared beneath the dark hood. The hunter grinned at the feeling of power in his car. He squeezed his hands around the steering wheel and relaxed back against the seat. He drove straight through the town and out the other side.

Sam didn't seem to notice nor care. The wolf just raised his paw to the window and whined.

Dean quickly got the message so rolled it down. Sam leapt up, for a brief moment Dean though he was going to throw himself out the car, and stuck his great head out the window. The wind blew through his fur making it move like ripples across water. His large tongue flapped around in the breeze.

"Look, do what you want but don't get slobber over Baby." Dean called out to Sam.

For a second the hunter swore he could see the animal roll it's eyes.

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JuniperLemon

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Chapter 1: Chapter One

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Chapter 2

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Chapter 3

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Chapter 4

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Chapter 5

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Chapter 6

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Chapter 7

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Chapter 8

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Chapter 9

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Chapter 10

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Chapter 11

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