Devon made her way to the shower, barely able to open her eyes. Her head was pounding right along with her heartbeat, her stomach was churning, her mouth tasted like something had crawled in it and died. She turned the water on, stripped down, and stood there half-conscious, letting the spray beat down on the back of her neck. After a few minutes, she finally rallied her wits enough to wash her hair and body before the water turned ice cold.

She dressed in a pair of yoga pants and a sports bra, then padded barefoot out of her room, her hair hanging in a wet mass down her back. She was halfway through the living room when she stopped dead in her tracks, turning to look at Dean's still-sleeping form stretched out on the couch. Suddenly she was wide awake, and her temper flared as she strode to the couch, put a hand on his shoulder and shook him roughly.

Before she could blink an eye or say a word, she was on her back on the carpet, one arm twisted behind her, Dean kneeling over her with her other wrist pinned to the floor. His eyes widened a little as he focused on her, and he let her go, standing quickly as she scooted away from him and leapt to her feet. "What the hell? What are you doing here? How did you get in?" She fired the questions one after the other, not waiting for an answer. "You've got a lot of nerve breaking into my place, Dean!"

His brows were drawn together in an angry scowl as he growled back. "I didn't break in. The door was unlocked."

Devon's mouth snapped shut and she stared at him, still furious. "So you just come in and crash on my couch? Who the hell do you think you are?"

"If I hadn't come in, you would have spent the night on the bathroom floor, sweetheart," Dean said sarcastically. "And you would have puked all over yourself, for that matter."

"I don't need you to babysit me. I'm a big girl. If I pass out on my own bathroom floor, it's none of your business."

"Yeah, well, maybe I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Devon stared back at him, silent, for a moment. "You didn't want to have to worry about me anymore, remember? So don't do me any favors."

"Oh, baby, don't worry. I won't make that mistake again. I'll let Lumber-Jack do the honors."

"Screw you!"

Dean glared at her, his green eyes almost glowing. "I'll let him take care of that, too. I hope he can handle what comes with it." With those words he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him, and she heard his heavy boots hit the wooden steps loudly as he went down. The Impala roared to life, spraying gravel as he backed out, the tires squealing as he hit the street. Devon stared after him for a moment, then determinedly fought back the tears that were filling her eyes and went to the kitchen to make a pot of very strong coffee.

Nicole's eyes opened slowly as a calloused finger moved gently down the length of her arm. She sighed softly as Sam snuggled in closer, his hand now roaming over her belly, then her ribs, then up to cup her breast, and she giggled as she felt him growing hard against her back. "Little Sammy is awake, I see," she teased, and Sam's low chuckle sent a shiver through her.

"Cute. Can't be helped, can it, waking up next to you all warm and naked," Sam said against her ear, and she giggled again, which faded into a soft sigh of pleasure as he teased at her nipple, then bent to kiss her ear. "Come here," he whispered as he turned her to face him, capturing her lips with his, running his hand down the smooth skin of her thigh as she raised it over his hip. He moved his hand to cup her bottom, pulling her tight against him, and he moaned into her mouth, pressing himself hot and hard against her core, already wet and waiting for his entrance. "You drive me crazy, Nic," he mumbled against her lips, then kissed her harder as he pulled back a little and Nicole adjusted herself to let him slide slowly into her warmth.

He rolled to his back, holding her tight against him as she let her head drop back, a quiet moan escaping her parted lips. "What a way to wake up," she said, grinding herself against him, making him buck up into her a little, and a small triumphant smile curved her mouth. She did it again, listening to Sam's low moan, and he let her go, pushing himself upward as she gyrated and clenched around him. He reached up to tweak at her nipples, and Nicole began to ride him hard, the sensations overwhelming her quickly.

"Damn, woman," Sam growled, his hands back on her hips, gripping her tight and helping her slam down onto him even harder as he clenched his teeth, he head thrown back on the pillow. As Nicole let out a whimper, her center pulsing around him as she came, he let out a low shout and exploded into her, the throbbing sensations eliciting another cry from Nicole as she rode him to his finish, then collapsed, breathless, onto his chest.

They laid in each other's arms for a few moments before Sam kissed Nicole's forehead, then her lips. "I'm sorry, but little Sam needs to go for a walk," he said, smiling as Nicole giggled, then moaned softly. He rolled to his side and reluctantly pulled away from her, giving her another quick kiss before leaving the bed and heading to the bathroom.

Nicole smiled and stretched like a contented cat, pulling the sheet up over herself and letting her eyes close again. It was so good to have him back, and she hoped this time they'd stick around a little longer. Dean was keeping them busy, and she sighed, knowing what was driving him away from Sioux Falls - the Grand Canyon sized rift between him and Devon. They both needed a good shaking.

She sat up, holding the sheet up to her chest, as she heard a key in the front door, then heard it swing open. "Nicole?" Devon's voice called out softly just as Sam came out of the bathroom into the hall. Then Nicole heard an "Oh!" and "Sam! I'm sorry!" as he backed into the bathroom again and closed the door most of the way.

"Hey - uh, Nic? You wanna bring me some pants?"

Nicole laughed, climbing out of bed and throwing on a t-shirt and a pair of panties. "Yeah, just a sec." She padded down the hall, handing Sam a pair of boxers and his jeans through the door. "Did you get an eyeful, girl?" she teased as she walked into the living room, where Devon stood, her hands still on her face.

"Oh my God, Nicole, I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I completely forgot Sam might be here. I just needed to talk. I'm sorry..." She trailed off, and Nicole's smile faded at the tone of her friend's voice.

"Devon, what is it?" She put a hand on her shoulder, and Devon dropped down to the couch, shaking her head.

"Dean! He was on my couch this morning when I woke up, like he has the right to just come into my place whenever he wants! I haven't seen him for months, and then he claims he wanted to make sure I was okay? Like he cares!"

Nicole was quiet for a moment before she answered. "Devon, he does care."

"Like hell he does! He's a selfish, conceited asshole, and he only showed up because he thought Jack might be at my place. He has no right to just jump back into my life. He threw me out of his life quick enough. He couldn't be bothered with me anymore, the mighty hunter Dean Winchester. Just because he..."

"Devon Nolan, that's enough!" Nicole cut Devon off sharply, standing with her arms folded and her green eyes snapping with anger. "I'm gonna go make some coffee, and then we're gonna have a talk, girl. I'm so done with you two. Done." She whirled around and stalked to the kitchen as Devon stared, open-mouthed, after her.

Nicole started coffee, then turned to find Sam standing in the doorway. "You okay?"

"Not yet. But I will be," Nicole answered, standing on tiptoe to kiss him, then heading back to the living room as Sam turned to let her by. She sat down on the couch next to her friend, her jaw set. "Now. You two have been apart for, what - over a year, now? You both have a stubborn streak a mile wide, and you're both too damn proud to say 'I'm sorry.' Dean just hunts until he can't see straight, dragging Sam along for the ride, like that's gonna solve anything. And you! Jackson Monroe is a good man, but he's not for you, Devon. You are using him and it's not right. For him or for you. And you know it. You drink all the time, you're reckless when you hunt, so Jack trails after you and makes sure you're still alive at the end of the day. Because you don't care." Devon looked up at Nicole, opening her mouth to answer, but Nicole held up a manicured hand to stop her. "I'm not done. You and Dean are both in hell-bent-for-leather, full-bore, don't-give-a-shit-if-I-die mode. And Dean's selfish? Honey, I've got a news flash for you!" Nicole threw herself up from the couch and stood to face Devon again, her soft southern accent growing stronger in her anger. "He almost lost you when that chupacabra attacked you. Do you realize that you almost died, Devon? Have you ever even been told how bad it was? Because it tore Dean apart. Tore. Him. Apart. All he could think of was getting you out of the life, because he was afraid you wouldn't make it the next time. And he ended up losing you over it. But all he cared about was keeping you safe. And then you go back out there on your own anyway. Because you're stubborn, and you don't care if you live or die. You have lost it, girl. And there are a few of us who do care that you stick around."

Devon sat there in silence for a moment, staring at the floor. Then she stood and walked to the door, leaving without a word, closing the door softly behind her. Sam walked slowly into the room, putting his arms around Nicole as she turned to him, her fists finally unclenching as she hugged him tight, trembling slightly. "It's okay, Nic. She needed to hear it."

Nicole looked up at him, tears in her eyes. "I know. But she's my best friend, Sammy. And instead of listening to her, I just tore her a new one. This has to stop, Sam. I need them to be okay. I want us all to be the way we used to be. I..." She trailed off, her body beginning to shake slightly, and Sam tightened his grip on her as her legs gave way.

"Nicole?" Sam sat her on the couch, going to one knee in front of her, peering into her face. His brow creased in a worried frown as he put a hand softly to her face, watching her stare ahead, unseeing. He had seen this a few times before, but usually her visions came while she slept.

After a few seconds, Nicole blinked and stared up at him silently. "Sam..."

"It's okay, baby, take it easy. Take your time," Sam said, helping her to lie back on the couch, propped up on the throw pillows. "Let me get you some water."

He went to the kitchen, returning a few seconds later with a bottle of cold water. Nicole took it from him, drinking mechanically, still dazed. Sam sat silently by, waiting for her to recover. When she finally looked up at him, her eyes were weary and frightened. "It's Devon, Sam. I saw her, tied up, bleeding, in some awful, filthy room. She looked so scared. I saw someone standing behind her, but I couldn't see them, it was too dark."

Sam pulled her into his arms, holding her tight. "It's okay, Nic. I'll call Dean. Just rest, okay?" Nicole nodded weakly against his chest, and Sam kissed the top of her head gently, then pulled back, looking into her eyes. "It'll be okay." He kissed her lips softly, then laid her back against the cushions, standing to go to the bedroom for his phone.

Devon turned the key in the lock and walked into her apartment, closing the door behind her, numbly turning the deadbolt. She stood facing the door, unmoving, for a moment, her mind in a spiral, wondering when and how she had gotten to the point of alienating even her best friend.

She turned, finally, heading towards the kitchen where she had left a pot of trucker-strength coffee brewing when she had left earlier. A shadow moved in the corner of the room, and a low, unfamiliar voice spoke, kick-starting her pulse into high gear.

"Hello, Devon."

Her entire body tense, she slowly moved her head until she could see the large black man standing, arms folded, staring intensely at her. "Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in my place?" she asked, her voice tight and angry.

"Gordon Walker. And you're Devon Nolan, right? Scott Nolan's daughter. He was a good hunter." Devon stared back at him, silent, and the corner of Gordon's mouth curved a little. "You've been running with the wrong crowd, girl. Has anyone ever told you that? The Winchesters are bad news. Fortunately, I'm prepared to take care of that trouble."

Devon finally turned to face the intruder, folding her arms across her chest. "And what makes you think I have anything to do with the Winchesters?"

Gordon scoffed. "Everybody knows you're Dean's little playmate, Devon. Not really a secret." He took a step towards her, and she was immediately in a defensive stance, causing him to chuckle softly. "All I need from you is Sam Winchester's location. Then I'll leave you be."

"If you're so smart, why can't you find him yourself?" Devon asked, warily eyeing the man who had begun to move slowly closer as she moved back from him.

"I've been watching Dean. And Bobby Singer. And I haven't seen Sam. So he's holed up with somebody around here. And I'm sure you know who."

"Even if I did, what on earth makes you think I'd tell you anything?"

"Oh, I think you'll tell me. Or Dean will."

A derisive laugh escaped Devon's lips. "Dean would die before he sold out his brother. Anyone who knows the Winchesters knows that."

"But would he let you die?" Gordon was slowly but deliberately drawing closer to her, and she was running out of room to back away.

"To tell you the truth - I think he would," she said sharply, then whirled to deliver a roundhouse kick to the big man's chest. He staggered back for a moment, then landed a solid punch to Devon's face, splitting her lip and making her jaw go numb, the sharp tang of blood on her tongue. Her eyes narrowed as she went into full combat mode, shouting as she attacked the intruder. She landed several punches and kicks, taking several hits, and finally found herself pinned against the wall as Walker zip-tied her hands behind her back. He turned her roughly, slamming her back against the wall, his arm across her throat as he glared at her through red-rimmed eyes. She spit the blood from her mouth into his face, and he grinned. "You're crazy," she managed to growl, even though her attacker was barely allowing her enough air to breathe.

"Maybe. But sometimes it takes a crazy man to do what needs to be done." With those words, he punched her again, and she sagged, unconscious, in his grasp.