Former Hunters and now werewolves being hunted, Sam and Dean flee New York to London ending up in Whitechapel right before the Ripper murders begin. Dean prostitutes to keep his 16 year old brother fed and sheltered. They room above the Drunken Pony tavern owned by vampire Benny. Benny and Sam fall for each other, Benny courts the virgin wolf Sam looking for a true mate.

Inspector Castiel, a failed seminary student and now part of the Metropolitan Police in London goes to Whitechapel where he meets the stunning prostitute Dean and long dead feelings begin to emerge inside the virtuous man.

One month before the Jack the Rippers first victim Mary Ann Nicoles.

A pair of werewolves loped down the alleyways quickly cornering around one building and on to the next. It was dark except for the soft glow from tavern windows and a few small fires built by the destitute with no shelter from the night.

The stars were not especially bright or maybe they chose not to shine over such a depressing place. The Winchesters wouldn't have noticed the stars anyway; they were too busy running from two Hunters.

The chase was strangely quiet. Neither Hunters nor their prey wanted to draw attention. The young, lanky russet wolf cornered into a dead end street and hit the wall. The massive beast turned around with hackles up, growling and snapping at the two men approaching with silver knives thrust out.

"Milt look at the size of that thing!"

"Shut up and pay attention to what you're doing. He bleeds and dies like everything else we kill. That pelt would look fine as a rug wouldn't it? Too bad it'll disappear after he dies." Milt grumbled.

The wolf snarled and lunged, taking a slice to the haunches as he tore out the frightened man's throat. Milt cried out in horror as his partner's head was nearly severed.

Milt raised the knife to finish the beast now shredding the unfortunate Hunter when someone stepped up behind him and said, "Looking for me?"

He whipped around and there was Dean Winchester, naked, transforming back to human quickly. His fierce green eyes still shining through the darkness and causing Milt to piss down his trouser leg from fear. Dean grabbed the man's wrist as quick as lightening and forced the blade into Milt's throat, never touching the silver.

As the spray of blood covered Dean's face and body like a macabre fountain he caught as much as possible on his tongue. The gurgling noise, the copper in the air and the sound of his brother feasting had Dean excited. He grasped his erection and used the slick of blood to masturbate until his balls tightened and a spray of pearly leavings shot over the corpse of his nemesis.

He stood there with his green eyes rolled back as another spasm shot through then his cock finally softened.

A local prostitute named Lily rounded the corner with a drunken man in tow. When she saw the bodies bleeding out in the filth of the alleyway and then the massive wolf with glowing eyes she screamed. It was cut short when the beast lunged and they tumbled to the ground, the weight of the creature snapping her neck like a twig.

Dean growled, "Damn it Sam," and went to kill the trick but found him passed out. Dean stripped the short, fat man and put on his pants and jacket then emptied his wallet. When he took the money from Lily, Dean felt bad but she wasn't going to be using it.

Sam pawed at her corpse and whimpered then looked at his brother.

"I know you didn't mean it but what's done is done."

Dean stuck his head out and looked around the narrow; garbage strewn street that was, for the most part, deserted. He waved Sam to follow and the pair exited the dead end. Wolf and man began a careful journey back to their room they rented from an elderly woman who thought Sam and Dean were very nice boys.

…..

Sam padded up the stairs with Dean right behind him; the blood had dried and they tried their best not to touch anything unless they had to. Mrs. Bixby opened her bedroom door downstairs and called up to them.

"Boys I left a pot of stew out for you, it should still be warm."

Dean cleared his throat and answered in a sweet, cheerful voice, "Thank you Mrs. Bixby, Sam and I are going to wash up and then we will eat."

Dean unlocked their bedroom door and immediately shed the drunk's stinking clothing then went to draw them a bath. Dean took one first using a boar bristle scrub brush to clean off the dried blood. Once wasn't enough so he filled the deep tub again to remove the residue. When he was satisfied Dean scrubbed out the tub and refilled it for his brother.

….

All the Winchesters wanted that night were a few drinks in a pub just to feel a sense of normalcy. They barely had a chance to sit down when two Hunters spotted the brothers sitting by the fire and it all went very wrong after that.

Sam lay on the floor cursing the Hunters for ruining the relative calm they had carved out for themselves in New York. Sam was also feeling terrible about Lily.

Dean came in and locked the door behind him, he was naked and scrubbed pink all over. "Sammy I have a bath ready for you." Sam wearily got up and shuffled past his brother. Dean caught his arm, "Sam it wasn't your fault…it was an accident."

"Dean I was trying to make Lily be quiet, I didn't mean to break her neck but I did and now I have to live with it."

"No, we both have to live with it. I'm the one that wanted to go out."

…

Sam washed and rinsed twice to cleanse himself from the events of that night. He went back to their room where his brother was reclining on the bed. Dean watched Sam walk to the closet and slip on a nightshirt then come over to him.

He flopped next to Dean squeezing tight against his warm body. It was not a large bed and Sam took up more than half. Dean brushed back his brother's hair and kissed his forehead, "My poor baby boy."

Sam combed his long bangs back over his eyes, "I'm not a boy anymore Dean, I'm sixteen."

"That's true Sam. You know I can sense you need a mate badly, you're sixteen and your inner beast is urging you to be taken while your human side is burning for release."

Sam managed to roll on his back and not fall off the bed, "Why can't I be like you had have relations?"

Dean snorted, "What I do is sell my body; there is nothing good about it. The only thing I'm grateful for is our curse prevents me from catching or spreading maladies of my profession."

"Still Dean, I've seen you with men who haven't paid. Handsome, clean men you used for pleasure. I could have that as well."

He reached over and brushed the hair once again off his brother face, "I know you Sam; you would need only one person to love you and fill you up. Fill your heart and your pretty, untouched holes. I'd do it myself but it wouldn't be proper. Besides, I'll find you someone strong that understands your condition and loves you anyway."

Sam snuggled next to Dean once again, "What about you brother, don't you need a mate?"

"I don't know Sammy; I doubt there is anyone to hold my interest. Besides, who would accept a cursed, penniless whore?"

Sam rubbed his tears on Dean's chest and held him tighter, "We have to run again don't we?"

"Yes, we are known to every Hunter now and the fact that we used to be one of their own doesn't matter. I've booked us passage to England and we leave in two days time."

….

Castiel sat on the edge of the tall feather bed and stared out of the window at the sheep grazing in the pasture. The sun was just showing itself and gave promise of a beautiful day. The Inspector dreaded heading back to the city but duty called and now that he had been promoted, Castiel didn't want to be late.

There was a knock on the door and Percy poked his head inside, "Master where shall I store your vestments?"

"Store them in the wardrobe for me."

Percy carried the long black garment inside and went to place it in the wardrobe when Castiel stopped him, "Wait, I want to look at them one last time."

He walked over and while Percy held it the vestments his Master fingered all thirty three buttons down the front of the cassock. Next his hand traveled over the shoulder of the pellegrina and finally the biretta Castiel always thought looked so silly on him.

"Master Novak you must hurry; the carriage is waiting."

Percy snapped him out of his memories, "Damn it Percy stop calling me "Master". It sounds strange. It's almost as if I own you."

The butler looked perturbed, "It was good enough for your father."

"Well I am not my father; call me "Sir" instead."

"Very well Sir."

Castiel grabbed his silk top hat, gloves and walking stick and headed back to his other life.

…..

Whitechapel

Benny turned his head on the pillow and watched the pretty boy sleeping beside him. Benny remembered his name was Philip or Paul, something that started with a P. The vampire watched the pulse in his slender, pale neck. Benny forced himself out of bed before his urges got the best of him.

He wasn't one to take advantage of innocents for food, only sex. The well muscled vampire looked out the window at the street below him. He observed the many people to choose from. Benny didn't need to be picky, there were no blood borne illnesses he could pick up or pass to his lovers so any piece of garbage would do.

Benny enjoyed taking out the most corrupted members of society but never ones that were victims of circumstance such as prostitutes who were forced into that way of life by a need to survive.

Paul sat up stretching and yawning, his golden curls awry making him seem even more like an angel. "Good morning Benny."

Benny turned, his sharp, clear blue eyes taking in the slim, pale flesh of his lover. "I think I need to give you another sound fucking."

Paul tossed back the sheet and laid back down, his stiff, young cock in happy agreement with the vampire. Benny was scared to put his mouth anywhere on the boy's body and instead jerked his cock until Paul was crying out for God, Benny and others Benny didn't recognize.

Paul was bent in half and plowed into by the vampires thick, sizeable dick and Benny had him moaning once again as he filled the boy with seed.

Afterward Benny took some coins from a pouch and handed them to Paul, "Here, get yourself some breakfast and a carriage back to your home…you do have a home don't you?"

Paul laughed, "I live with my parents on a fine estate, I don't need your money Benny. I just needed your company and I so enjoyed it. You are a truly perfect specimen of a man."

Paul dropped the coins along with some others added to it and a bill as well, "Take this and buy yourself some new bed linens, when I come back I'd like to sleep in something decent."

Benny was confused, "You think I'm a prostitute? I felt as if I were taking advantage of you!"

Paul bent down and kissed his full mouth, "You popped my cherry and I have the sore rump to prove it. I wanted this badly and I thank you."

With that Paul dressed and left without another word. The encounter gave Benny time to think of how much he would enjoy having a mate of his own; someone that could understand his Vampirism. The young man would have to be pretty, compliant and enjoy his attentions because Benny had a voracious appetite for ass.

Benny pocketed the money and got ready for another long day and night tending his tavern The Drunken Pony.

….

Sam and Dean boarded the S.S. Aurania bound for England and ended up in steerage with scores of other immigrants bunking together. They had never traveled by steamer before and were shocked to learn that people were expected to have their own eating and cooking utensils in addition to bedding. They would be allotted three quarts of water a day per person. Food provisions were given by the stewards.

Dean knew his brother wouldn't be able to handle the conditions; Sam was too rambunctious and big to be comfortable in such a situation not to mention his state of mind. There was only one way to find them better quarters.

Sam's hazel eyes darted around as his breathing picked up, he grasped his brother's arm and pleaded, "Dean help me…the memories of confinement…please."

Dean pressed his lips against Sam's ear so no one else could hear him, "Don't worry I'll take care of it. Sam you have to learn control, we must work on that."

Dean took his hand and the pair went looking for a mark.

Dean didn't have to look far as the mark found him instead.

Sam hung back in the shadows as his brother worked his special form of magic. Dean leaned on the rail watching the lights from the ship cast upon the water. His ass was pushed out for takers and within minutes a well-dressed man almost as tall as Sam but broader built was leaning on the railing as well. He had a heavy beard and moustache. Sam thought he was handsome in a coarse way but there was also an air of danger about him.

Dean was able to shut off the Lycanthrope inside of him but with that came duller senses until he was fully transformed again. Sam was young and in need of training, always on the verge of change which kept his senses keen even in his human form.

Dean felt a hand on his arm and a deep voice rumbled, "Are you selling that fine ass of yours boy?"

"Yes, for the rest of the voyage. My brother and I are in steerage and the conditions are terrible. If you allow us to stay in your cabin for the rest of the trip, feed us decently and give me some spending money I will let you have as much of my ass as you are able to handle."

The man stuck out his hand, "Agreed, my name is Martin and you are…"

"Dean."

"What is your last name?"

"I just go by Dean."

….

Sam paced the deserted deck fighting the urge to go to the cabin and take his brother away from it all. Sam decided he would fight his fear and urges in order to stay in steerage rather than have Dean once again sell himself for their comfort.

A slim man with hawkish features approached Sam and stood at the rail, "Are you selling?"

Sam could sense the man's emotions rolling off him in waves, anger, fear and hatred which alerted him to danger.

A blade briefly caught the moonlight as the man swung for Sam's neck but caught the tender skin over the collar bone instead. Sam stifled the cry in his throat as his flesh burned then darkened where the sliver had slashed him.

Sam ran with the man in hot pursuit but managed to give him the slip briefly as he vanished into the maze of first class cabins.

The Hunter whispered loudly, "You can't get away now Sam Winchester. Come out so I can kill you and collect my reward." A lanky russet wolf turned a corner and padded quietly up behind the hunter.

…..

Inside Dean had stripped but Martin stayed clothed. "Why don't you relax on the bed, Dean."

He did as he was told glancing over to the roll of bills waiting for him on the nightstand.

"I have particular things that I enjoy Dean, I like my young men tied up while I fuck them."

Dean panicked and tried to sit up but Martin pushed him back down and drew a silver knife from a sheath beneath his coat. He pulled out a pair of shackles and dropped them next to Dean, "Put them on doggie and then I won't have to shove this silver knife right up that lovely ass of yours."

Dean never lost eye contact with Martin while he secured a shackle on of his own wrists. He swung the loose cuff catching the Hunter in the jaw and knocking him to the floor.

Dean pressed a bare foot against the man's chest, "Who are you, why are you on this ship?" Martins answer was a knife stabbed into Dean's thigh, he howled in pain as he dropped to the floor clasping a hand over the deep, burning wound.

The Hunter took the opportunity to scramble toward the chest of drawers for his gun but never reached his goal. A thickly muscled smoke colored wolf slammed him to the floor. The beast clamped down on his windpipe crushing then tearing until the teeth reached his spine.

With a mighty twist the wolf snapped off the Hunter's head then lifted his leg and pissed on the body for good measure.

….

The russet wolf stared down at the corpse feeling the urge to feed but instinctively knew that would be a very bad idea. When Sam emerged, the bloody, naked young giant dragged the body to the deck and tossed the Hunter over the rail then went to find his brother.

….

Dean was thrilled to see his brother come through the cabin door. Without words the pair knew what to do working quickly to dump the second Hunter, rug and all over the side and thanked their lucky stars they weren't spotted. Two big, naked, blood coated men wandering the deck in the middle of the night wouldn't have gone over well at all.

They raided a supply closet for items to clean Sam's kill site first, working feverishly until there was only a slight stain to the polished wood. Next was the pool of blood in the cabin, again leaving a stain. Dean covered it with a rug from beside the bed.

By the time it was all done dawn was breaking and the Winchesters were exhausted. They locked and barred the cabin door, cured up on the bed together and slept much of the day away.

…

Sam and Dean managed to find clothing that fit them from the two dead Hunters. The large one had pants that worked for Sam although the waist was much too big so he cinched a belt tightly and covered it all with an oversized jacket. Dean's clothes were a bit snug but Sam commented on how nicely the trousers accentuated his ass making Dean feel more at ease.

They packed the clothing they liked and dumped their rags overboard. There were toiletries, cash, identification, and weapons. The brothers would have a better start to their new life than expected.

….

Sam and Dean stood on deck that morning watching their new home come into view, "Dean it's big like New York, there must be Hunters there. If I'm captured I'll take drastic measures, I will not be caged again." He clasped his brother's hand for comfort, "I'm broken inside Dean."

Dean grabbed him by the back of the neck roughly, "Listen to me; you will never harm yourself Sam…never. You won't be caged and neither will I. There is nothing broken inside of you so stop talking foolish do you hear me?"

Sam bowed his head, "I'm sorry Dean…I suppose I'm scared."

Dean lovingly tucked a lock of hair behind his brothers ear, "Don't be scared Sammy, I'll never let harm come to you again. Maybe in this new place we can expand our pack. I'll find you a fine mate and who knows, maybe I'll find one for myself."

Sam looked at his brother with hope for the first time since they boarded, "Do you really think so Dean?"

He lovingly squeezed his big, little brother's face, "Of course Sam, I feel it in my heart. Cursed or not, we are deserving of good things in this life, I am sure of it."

…

Port of London

The Winchester brothers stood among the throngs of people. Dean was trying to decide their next step and the Hunters had left them little money. It needed to stretch until the brothers were established. Dean had a feeling there would be no room in a sweet old lady's house in their future.

He stopped a sailor walking by with another crew member, "Excuse me, we are new here. Are there any cheap accommodations nearby?"

The two men looked at the bedraggled duo and both snickered. The chubby one named Ned leered at Dean and asked if he was selling.

Dean shoved him back, "Not now, first we need a room."

The rangy sailor with the scar down his cheek who went by the name "Poppy" decided to be of some help but with ulterior motives, "Well if you earn a living on your back pretty yank then head to Whitechapel. My mate and I are rooming at the Drunken Pony; you're welcome to follow us if you like."

Dean felt for the pistol under his ill fitting coat, "Alright, but if you try anything it won't end well for either of you."

The sailors laughed at them again and then began shoving their way through the crowd with Sam and Dean right behind them.

TBC

A/N- Steerage (or Tween Decks) and Third Class was the default choice of many immigrants from the 1850s through the 1930s. Conditions varied by steamship line and was likely to be fairly harsh. Early steerage often housed hundreds of immigrants in one large room.