The morning was coming to a steady halt, couples starting to pack their towels and sunscreen away for the journey ahead of them. The sun had risen healthily across the bluest sky Sam had ever seen. He stared up at the blue, cloudless atmosphere and breathed a heavy sigh. Smiling happily, he glanced over at Dean, crouched awkwardly, putting away their beach supplies. It was in that moment he'd forgotten they'd been to Hell and back (literally) and it was just them and only them. He thought that if this was the life they'd had if their mother had survived, going on family picnics on the beach, playing volleyball and eating as much junk food as they could fit in their mouths. But, he knew that day-dreaming about what could have been is unethical and idiotic and the only thing keeping him from tuning this peaceful experience in to regret and anguish was Dean smiling back at him with a full set of teeth.

"Okay Love Birds, the second activity of the day will be commencing shortly so, if you may, follow me further along the beach." Shouted the guide, breaking the moment they shared.

"Great." Dean sighed, getting up from the sand and trudging towards Sam. "This better not get weird."

Sam made a face. "Dean, we are on a couples programme in Florida, on a beach, pretending we are madly in love. I don't think things could get weirder than this."

Dean scoffed and threw the bag over his shoulder earning a slow head shake from Sam. The two started to walk in the direction of the crowd, quietly bumping shoulders as they stepped one foot in front of the other across the uneven terrane.

After a few minutes of walking, Dean turned to Sam and squinted.

"So what's the plan? Seems like there isn't many people we can get information from except Mr Sunshine over there that caught us in the staff office and he's been giving us looks all morning."

Sam squirmed. "Yeah, I thought there'd be more people we could talk to. It's a little strange though, don't you think, just the one guy for all of these people. There's gotta be like… 18 people here."

"Yeah, I hadn't thought of that. Still, what's the plan of action?" Dean pushed.

"At the moment I got nothing. We haven't fully spoken to that guy yet. Maybe we could just target him."

He sighed. "I doubt that guy would even talk to us, not after…"

"We could at least try?" Sam shrugged.

Dean made a noise and continued to face forward towards their destination. It was only a matter of seconds before they came across a sectioned off part of the beach with pink yoga mats spaced evenly along the sea front. Sam could hear Dean's disappointment just by standing next to him.

"Okay everyone, I will hand you over to Casey, one of the best yoga instructors we have at our retreat." said the guide, presenting the man with two out stretched hands. Casey was a well-built man with rippling muscles and tanned skin. His head grew long, slick, golden locks and dangling from his chest was a rope necklace with a tooth pendant. Dean smirked and looked up at Sam to expect the same reaction. Sam took no notice of Dean and continued to stare at the god-like man in front of them. He felt a pang of jealousy creep up the nape of his neck and turned back to the yoga instructor.

"Hello, my name is Casey, as you all know, and I will be your couple's yoga instructor for today. If you'd like to drop you bags on the edge of the sectioned area, we will start as soon as you all find a mat." He smiled, showing his brilliant white teeth.

Dean scoffed again.

The two dropped their bags in the corner with everybody else's and Sam dragged Dean over to a mat in the back row. They sat side by side, too close, shoulders touching, as the other couples found their seats and awaited instruction from the hunky yoga instructor.

"Okay, now that we are all here and ready I want you to take a few breaths with me. In 3, out 4."

Sam followed suit, breathing in deeply for 3 counts and breathing out for 4 counts. He noticed the stillness of Dean's chest beside him so he nudged his elbow forcefully into his side hard. Dean moaned like he was 12, huffing as if he couldn't get his own way. Sam smiled at his childish reaction, feeling him sit up straight and breathe in 3 counts and out 4. This continued for 8 more tries. Dean started to get lightheaded and rested a hand on Sam knee for balance. Sam couldn't help but laugh at him further. The whole idea of his brother, forced to do yoga exercises was truly entertaining to Sam. He'd done yoga during his time at Stanford. At first it was a joke, him at his buddies went to a class just for the fun of it. But after a few sessions, Sam did see a change in himself that he liked. He was calmer, lighter, and he thought less of the hole in his heart where Dean had been ripped from. As his friends found the joke less amusing, they left the sessions, but Sam stayed on and he enjoyed the time he spent there.

"Okay, let's start with our first stretch. Please, face your partner with your legs spread apart, your feet touching and hold hands. Take turns in stretching each other by pushing your partner's legs with your own. Comfort them through the burn."

Dean looked sceptical, eyebrows knotted and his bottom lip curled slightly. Sam started to turn around to face Dean, sitting with his knees up.

"Come on man, this isn't a hard one." Sam pushed at Dean.

He paused, looked and Sam for a moment and with the same look of doubt plastered across his face to turned around slowly towards him. Spreading their legs out, Sam shuffled closer and pushed Dean's legs wider with his long legs. Dean watched him take control of the stretch, feeling the slow burning sensation in his inner thighs as Sam continued to push. Dean grunted and Sam stopped suddenly.

"Are you feeling the stretch?" he asked concerned he had stretched him too far.

"Yeah Sammy, I'm really feeling it in my groin." Dean said in a strained voice.

Sam laughed sitting up from leaning on his hands and held them out in front of him. "Can you sit up from your hands? Or does it hurt too much?" he asked.

Dean took a moment to respond. "I think I can do it."

Sam leaned forward, feeling his own slow burn in the insides of his thighs and held out a hand. Dean grabbed it like he was hanging off a building and Sam pulled him, grabbing both biceps. This earned a small whimper of pain from Dean and a slow exhale from Sam. Dean watched Sam get comfortable and wondered if he'd done this before.

"For a novice, you're pretty relaxed. I mean, I'm here tryin' not to scream in agony cuz it feels like my pelvis is bein' ripped in half." Dean stated with a pained expression.

"Yeah, I did yoga classes at Stanford. I'm still pretty flexible from that." He smiled.

Dean smirked at him and focused his attention on the space around them. He could see the butter-shirts from the open evening bickering and squabbling about who stretches who first and how far they stretch each-other. Dean sneered at them, proud that he and Sam hadn't fought since last night although; he wouldn't call it fighting, more like a petty argument between brothers. He noticed gradually that the pain in his groin was starting to numb and he found it easier to sit up straight. Sam noticed this.

"You still feeling the stretch?" he asked.

"Well, it's a little dull. It's alright now, not as painful." He replied.

Sam gave him a devilish stare which sent shock waves of white heat though his spine towards his cock. He cleared his throat and smiled coyly, trying to cover up his slight arousal. Sam shuffled forwards stretching his legs wider and he was sure Dean had moaned, but it didn't sound like he was in pain… Sam's cheeks flushed red and so did Dean's after he realised an unfamiliar noise fumbled from his lips.

Shortly after, Casey the instructor came over to them to see how they were doing.

"Wow, you guys I think you are by far the best. Have you done this before?" he asked, crouching down to their level.

Dean couldn't help but look straight at his crotch as his knees spread apart. He rolled his eyes and look back at Sam, who was smiling at Casey. He felt that pang of jealousy again in the back of his neck.

"I have, he hasn't." Sam replied submissively.

Dean didn't like that.

"Oh yeah, what kind of things did you do?" Casey asked, ogling at Sam and Sam enjoying the attention.

"Nothing advanced. It was more stress releasing and mood levelling. It was super chill. It really helped with my stress levels." He said grip loosening on Dean's bicep.

Dean squeezed his arm his hands to tell him to pull him up slightly and Sam did, using his long arms to reach around Dean and hold his shoulder blades. Dean whimpered under his touch at both pain and pleasure. He wrapped his arms around Sam's neck. Sam glanced back at Casey to continue their conversation.

"What do you do?" Sam asked curiously, seeming to be caught in his green eyes.

Dean grew angrier by the second but concentrated on the pain in his lower half.

"Oh, all sorts of stuff. It's a lifestyle, you know. You look like you'd fit right in. You seem like you know what you're doing. It's good." he nodded as he flicked his long hair from his shoulder.

Dean became inpatient for the man to leave.

"Hey baby," Dean said sweetly, catching Sam off guard. "You want me to stretch you now?"

Sam's stomach stirred butterflies as Dean inconspicuously emphasised the word 'stretch' as if to imply something other than yoga.

"Uh-y yeah, sure hun." He stuttered, releasing Dean from his hold and allowing Dean to take charge.

"Okay, guy's. I'll leave you two to work this out together. You look like an amazing team." He said getting up from his crouching position.

"Thanks. We are, in all areas." Dean gave a cocky smile and pushed his feet up against Sam's ankles.

He walked away hesitantly and once they were out of view, Dean felt Sam's hand smack his arm.

"Argh! What the hell Sam!" he explained.

"Why did you have to be so rude to him?" Sam asked annoyed, grabbing Dean's hands and pulling the closer.

"Did you see him? He was totally hot for you." He said shuffling forwards and spreading Sam's legs.

Sam scoffed. "What? No he wasn't, he was just being friendly. I doubt he'd try and hit on me if my partner was right there next to me."

Dean didn't answer mostly because he didn't want to argue but he also a little bit surprised by how Sam had called him his partner. Dean carried on shuffling, watching Sam's face for any sign of pain, but Sam legs got wider and wider and the face never showed.

"Jesus Sam, your almost doing the fucking splits." He said impressed.

"I told you I was flexible." Sam whispered, making Dean's face flush.

Casey cleared his throat from the front of the mats. "Okay, let's go onto the first pose. The tallest one out of your couple, sit cross-legged on the mat. The smaller one, straddle your partners lap, facing them and wrap your legs around their back. Slowly lower your shortest partner until their back is flat against the mat, with their pelvis elevated."

Dean's face turned even brighter. "No way dude." He protested.

Sam sighed. "Come on. It will be fine, I promise."

"You said it wouldn't get weird." Dean shook his head.

"I didn't say that! And it wouldn't be weird if you weren't so weird about doing it!"

Dean rolled his neck and exhaled. He glanced up at all the couples getting into position and sighed. There was no way out of this. He had to do it. "Fine."

Sam cautiously sat cross-legged and awaited Dean's weight in his lap. Dean breathed again and climbed onto his lap, his hands resting on his shoulders for balance. Wrapping his legs around Sam's torso, Sam gently skimmed his flanks and lowered him down to the floor until his back was pressed against the mat. Sam didn't let go Dean's sides, his hands rested lightly which did things so Dean. He began to sweat and his heartrate increased and he looked Sam in the eyes with parted lips. Sam's breathing became deeper. Dean could feel it through his chest where his legs were wrapped. Dean didn't know what that meant; he wasn't sure whether he wanted to find out.

"Now, the partner who is on their back, sit up with little help from your partner if you can and press your chests together so that your backs are straight."

Dean cleared his throat, his heart still beating like a piston. Sam was going to feel everything, his heart beating though his chest, his erratic breathing in his ear, he aching semi pressed against his stomach. This couldn't end well. Dean sat up, feeling the burn in his abdominals. Dean took a deep breath and came all the way up, Sam's hands still in a supportive position. Their chests met and Sam took a sharp inhale of breath as all of Dean's weight shifted on to his cock. Dean breathed shakily. Not knowing where to put his hands, he wrapped them around Sam's neck and glanced into the empty space behind them. He wanted so much to bury his head in Sam's neck and nibble his ear like the night before but he knew he couldn't and he knew this was wrong. His mind told him to stop, but his body told him to stay right there forever. Dean shifted in Sam's lap, moving his ass forward in attempts to straighten his back. As soon as he moved, he felt Sam below him poke his ass cheek. Sam whimpered at the friction and pressed his head deep into Dean's chest in front of him. Dean started to panic. He didn't know what to do, how to act. Was his brother as aroused as he was? What would happen if he moved again? He kept thinking: "this is so wrong; he's my brother, my baby brother. I can't do this. I can't do this to him." But his hips moved involuntary, rolling his ass backwards again and Sam's hands tightened around Dean's flanks. Sam moaned, quietly into his chest, eyes clamped shut as if ashamed to open them and face his older brother. Dean's breathing sharpened. He couldn't do this. Sam suddenly felt Dean scramble off of him and with shallow breaths they both looked at each other wide-eyes from a distance that was safe.

Dean spoke hoarsely. "I—I need to use the bathroom."

Dean got up from his knees and ran as fast as he could towards the resorts main building. He looked at the signs frantically for the men's room. Following the arrows as directed, he opened the door to the bathroom and locked himself in a cubical. He started to breathe very shallow, feeling the sickly feeling in his throat and chest. He was hot, too hot, so hot he took his shirt of and grabbed both walls of the cubical. His head was spinning and his stomach was aching with need. He couldn't control his actions past that point; he started to knead his erection through his swimming trunks, feeling that unsatisfying ache and longing for his brother. He continued to rub himself through the material, refusing to touch himself because it wasn't right. He couldn't touch himself because he knew that it would be for Sam and wanting Sam like this was wrong. So his hand motions became frantic, his whole body jerking and writhing upon the cold porcelain toilet seat. He suddenly felt the urge to finger himself. It was something he'd never done and something he didn't think would satisfy him. Right now he needed it, he longed for it.

So he clumsily pulled his shorts down and stuck a finger in his mouth. He lapped and swirled his tongue around it, coating his finder with a thick layer of saliva. He liked doing this. He liked sucking his own fingers. It made him feel dirty but today, he was breaking all the rules. He lowered his finger between his cheeks and teased himself, circling his tight virgin hole with the warm with saliva. He couldn't help himself as he sat forward on the toilet seat and pulled his knees up towards his chest. Slowly, he started to push though the first band of muscle. He screeched, knocking his head back against the back of the toilet. He pushed further, his finger eager to pump. He broke past the second ring of muscle and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. He's never felt anything like it. It was slow burning, hot with that slither of white hot sensation electrocuting him every time he moved his finger. He pulled out slowly and jabbed inside himself again sharply, causing him to call out loud to the Lord above. "Oh god, fff—fuck. Ah." he panted, sweat dripping from his forehead. He grew courageous and started to pump his finger in a steady rhythm, getting used to all the sparks and sensation that ignited within his body. He started to imagine his brother pumping into him with the same agonising rhythm squeezing his flanks as he was a few moments ago. He wanted to ride his brother in that position, roll his hips with his brother inside his ass and make him beg for release. He was ashamed of the feelings he felt and ashamed of the fantasies he had longed for and the kinks that he wouldn't dare to share with any woman he'd met. He felt his orgasm building deep inside of him, deeper that it has ever risen from. His whole body was so sensitive. His skin was crawling with arousal. Running a hand up his chest, he flicked his nipple and the sensation sent him spiralling down to the most explosive orgasm Dean had ever experienced. His whole body had numbed with pleasure as he finally hit his prostate. He called out Sam's name so loud he was sure the whole lobby could hear him but he didn't care. He was so lost in pleasure that he forgot where he was. He grabbed the cubical wall as ropes of his cum shot onto the white tile floor of the bathroom.

He felt dirty afterwards. He wanted to take a shower and wash away all his sin. Scrub all of his secret desires away down the plug hole. But he couldn't move. He sat there for what seemed hours, twitching now and them from the aftershock of his orgasm. He wasn't alone for long as he heard the bathroom door fly open. He sat up slowly, still a little sore.

"Dean? You in here?" called Sam.

Dean thought about not answering, but he hated the thought of his brother worried sick. "Yeah Sam." He breathed.

"Are you okay?" Sam said croakily, his voice echoing slightly.

"I'm… I'm fine. I just feel a little sick. I think I may have eaten something bad last night." He lied.

There was a moment of silence between the two brothers.

"We don't have to do this wine tasting thing if you're feeling sick. I could take you to our room and you could lay down for a bit and—"

"—No! No, it's fine. I'll, be out in a second. Give me some time to clean up." He said putting his head in his hands.

"Okay, I'll be in the lobby." Sam said.

There a hesitation from Sam before he turned around and closed the door behind him. Dean exhaled in relief. He was ashamed of himself; this wasn't how he was raised. He sat for another moment before cleaning up his mess, putting his shirt back on and washing his hands until they were red.

The vineyard was located in the hills further away from the coast. It took a while to get there but it gave Dean a well-deserved nap time. He slept next to Sam with his head hanging off his shoulder. Sam tried to keep his head up right so that he wouldn't wake up. He knew his brother needed sleep. He didn't get much last night and to be fair neither did Sam. He was up all night trying to figure out just what it was that he felt for his brother. Sam really fucked up that day. He taken things too far and Dean had freaked out. He didn't know how he was going to behave when he woke up but something inside him knew something was wrong. He looked out the window and lost himself in train of thought. Had Dean noticed? Of course he did, it wasn't something you could miss if you were sitting on it. What did his brother think of him now? Will Dean forget all about this mess, act like he didn't feel anything? How did this affect the relationship between the two of them? So many questions Sam had for Dean, yet he was too scared to know the answer to any of them. He peered at Dean, resting fast asleep on his arm and smiled slightly as a parent would smile at their sleeping child. He'd really fucked up and he felt he deserved whatever came to him. So, he sat quietly and prepared for the worst.

The coach pulled up outside a large 19th century cottage and Dean awoke as the engine turned off. He looked at Sam momentarily and then looked ahead. Sam's doubt lifted a little.

"Okay, shall we go inside for a little wine tasting and some of the finest cheese Florida has to offer?" the guide said with a chirpy smile.

The coach responds with various Woo's and Yeah's and Dean couldn't help but put his head in his hands, cringing hard. Sam smiles in hope that he hand Dean were going to be okay.

"Let's go then!" he pointed and walked through the doors.

The couples stood and waddled one by one through the automatic doors of the coach and huddled around the guide outside. The doors shut, Sam and Dean being the last ones off stood at the back of the crowd. They walked briskly toward the small doors of the cottage, Sam having the duck slightly to fit through. Dean followed closely behind, already smelling the wine and cheese. As they all squeezed through, they came across an old room with dark wood furniture and flooring, wooden beams held up the room. There were eight tables, one table for each couple, dotted around the room like a homely restaurant. The couples took their seats eagerly as Sam and Dean sat face to face at the nearest table. Sam stared at Dean for a moment. He couldn't quite read him. This was strange for Sam because he always knew what his brother was thinking or how he was feeling just by looking at him. This time was different and he didn't know how to explain it.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Sam asked hoarsely.

Dean looked up from the table with an unsure look on his face. "Yeah, I'm fine. I was feeling a little bit sick."

"Was it something you ate or…?" Sam trailed off.

"I honestly don't know. It could have been anything, sun stroke, sea sick, I don't know. I'm fine now…" he scratched the back of his head and looked away. "What about you?" he asked.

"What about me?"

"Are you okay?" Dean asked again, failing to look his brother in the eye.

Sam lifted a brown in confusion. "Yeah… I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"No reason." Dean said quietly.

Sam was about to open his mouth and say something but the clinking of a wine glass brought his attention to the guide in the centre of the room.

"We start with the French. Please enjoy your platter." He said.

Moments after, waiters came from the small kitchen with boards of cheese and bottles of French wine. A waiter skilfully placed the cheese board in front of Dean and the wine in the middle of the table. Sam smiled slightly at the face Dean made when presented the board and thanked the waiter. As soon as the waiter had left, Dean almost lunged for the bottle of wine in the middle and filled his glass as much as he could.

"Woah! Dean, slow down." Sam said snatching the bottle and too filling his glass moderately.

"Sam, when it comes to food or booze, there's no stopping me." he said, still not looking Sam in the eye as he gulped down half of the rim filled glass.

Sam sensed something was wrong. He knew Dean was acting strange. Was this because of the yoga session? Sam's cheeks became increasingly red.

"Dean I'm serious! If I have to drag your ass home and carry on this mission myself, I will kill you." He warns, picking a slightly soft cheese off the board and popping it in his mouth.

Dean watched him eat, licking the cheese off his lip and sucking his fingers. His heart pumped faster.

"Yeah, well that's not gonna happen." He mumbled.

Sam rolled his eyes, running his tongue across his teeth and taking a sip of the red wine. "Have you thought of anything?" he asked.

Dean also picked a cheese off of the plater and ate it. "Thought of what?"

"The case, Dean… the reason why we're here?" Sam questioned with an annoyed look on his face.

"No."

He looked around at the couples happily enjoying their meals together until he spotted something odd. He turned back to Sam with a raised brow.

"Hey, how many couples were on this programme?" Dean asked.

Sam looked back at his with an equally questioning look. "Uh, 8 I think."

He paused, twisting around again to double check. "So… why is there an empty table?"

Sam peered around Dean to find it. He was right, in the corner of the room, one of the eight tables were empty. Sam thought it was odd but he could come up with 5 different reasons why there would be an empty table. Maybe they felt sick and went back or one was lacto intolerant and couldn't eat the cheese.

"You think it's got something to do with the case?" Sam asked.

"Well, maybe. I am just pulling straws here." Dean answered.

Dean finished his glass and refilled to the brim. Sam rolled his eyes and continued to sip his glass. Maybe Dean was right, maybe they were pulling straws. They've had nothing to go on, no leads. It was almost like they were distracted...

"Well, I think we should check it out. You know, just in case." He said under his breath.

Dean glanced up at him with a full mouth of cheese. "Yeah," he swallowed. "The guide just stepped outside the cottage a moment ago. I saw him walk through the back door."

"Smoke break?" Sam suggested.

Dean scoffed. "Most likely."

Dean reached into his short pocket and pulled out a pack of Marlboro Golds. Skilfully, in one swift movement, he pulled out a cigarette and tucked it behind his ear. Sam was shocked.

"I've never seen you smoke before." Sam choked, taking a gulp of wine.

"Yeah, because I don't let you." He shot back, standing up from his seat and shoving the pack back into his shirt. "I'll be back in 5."

Dean headed towards the backdoor and twisted the old metal door knob of the wooden frame. He stepped outside into the hot Florida sun and sighed. He looked to the left to find the guide on the phone, talking in hushed voices. It was hard to make out but the tone of the conversation was desperate. Dean decided not to approach him yet but just stand as still as he could. The phone call ended with the guide being hung up on. Dean thought this was the best time to interrupt.

"Girl problems?" he called.

The guide swirled around swiftly and stared, confused and slightly worried at Dean. Dean raised his eyebrow and walked towards him.

"Argument… on the phone?" he pushed, pulling out his cigarette from behind his ear.

"Uh, yeah." He replied, weakly.

"You smoke?" Dean asked, popping the butt in his mouth, letting it hang off his lips.

The man stuttered before pulling out a pack of cigarettes himself and grabbing one from the corner. "Yeah, you wanna light?"

Dean nodded and stepped closer to him to receive the lighter. The guide flipped it open and held the flame to the cigarette in his mouth. Slowly dean inhaled, filling his lungs with the toxic smoke. Taking it away from his lips with two fingers, he exhaled into the humid air. The guide lit his quickly and leaned back against the cottage.

"Hey man, I just want to say sorry about last night. Me and my b—partner are really sorry." He blurted out, flicking the ash off the tip onto the floor with his thumb.

"Uh," the man stuttered. "It's fine, honestly. As I said, I can't stand in the way of love. You guy's seem like a nice enough couple. How did you meet?"

Dean's brain had malfunctioned, pausing mid-inhale. How did they meet? Dean would have to make up a story that was believable and stick to it. For a moment he wished Sam were here to step in and help him out. He thought that there should be some truth to what he'd say. That wat it would seem more real.

"Ugh, well it was… a long time ago." He stared. "We were just kids in fact. We lived in the same neighbourhood, same street. He was one of my best friends; almost like… a brother to me. We grew up together you know. Everywhere I went, he followed. He was younger than me, way younger. I felt like I needed to take care of him you know. His parents were never there for him… well his Mom was but she died when he was only a baby."

"Wow. Must have been hard for him." The man sighed.

Dean looked up at him gave a hard grin. "Yeah, it was. He was into girls as a teen. I mean so was I but… people find themselves in these years. Coming out to his Dad was hard. I stood by him though. I stood by him when his father was shouting at him like an animal while the whole neighbourhood heard him call his son a fag. He told him to… ugh. Sorry."

"No, it's okay. You don't have to go into detail." The man reassured.

Dean started to feel unbelievably sad. Maybe the truth approach wasn't such a good idea after all. Even though half of this was untrue, he felt so deeply for his brother and what he'd been though. He started to think back to the night he left for Stanford.

"His dad sent him away." He looked at his feet and exhaled the smoke in his lungs. "I didn't see him for a while. I knew he was going through a hard time. Heck, I was going through a hard time. Anyway, I decide I was sick of Kansas so, I stole dad's car and set off into the night. I went to go find him, and when I did… we kept driving… and never turned back."

The man looked at Dean with general sorrow and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Listen to me. If you love him, you grab that man with both hands, and Never. Let. Go."

Dean glanced over at the man and looked him in the eyes. They were too genuine and understanding; it was almost overwhelming. It raised so many questions. Was he in love with his brother? Was this feeling so bad after all? Could this be love he was feeling? The man's hand got tighter on his shoulder and he eyes became bluer. This wasn't right. Dean thought it for just a second before he fell into a euphoric trance. All her could here was the sound of the man's voice and all he could think of was his brother.

Inside, Sam started to grow impatient. He was on his 3rd glass of red wine and had ordered another bottle. He knew if his brother was in trouble he could handle it… could he? Dean was stronger, more able than he was. Sam was more of the brains of the duo. He looked at his watch and sighed, bouncing his knee irritably. Dean had been more than 10 minutes and couples were staring to stare at him. It was twice today Dean 'ditched' him and the couples were starting to talk. He didn't like been stared at. It made him feel uncomfortable, so he decided to check on Dean to see if he was okay. Getting up from the chair, he paced toward the backdoor and opened it.

"Dean?" Sam called as he stepped into the humidity.

He looked left to find his brother smoking with his eyes closed, alone.

"Dean." he said again.

Dean opened his eyes and kicked off the wall hastily, exhaling a cloud of cigarette smoke. "Sam! I told you I'd be 10 minutes!"

"Yeah, you've been at least 20 minutes!" he said looking down at the newly lit cigarette in Dean's hand.

Dean follows Sam's gazed and hides the cigarette behind him. "Jesus, Sam calm down. I'm fine, go."

Sam just stood there and stared at Dean trying to hide himself away. "Dean you can smoke its fine. It doesn't bother me."

Dean hesitated before bringing the cigarette to his lips and inhaling.

"Did you find anything out?" Sam asked.

"About what?" Dean exhaled, flicking the ash on the floor.

Sam raised an eye brow and stepped closer to him, avoiding the cloud of smoke he'd just produced. "The guide? He came out here; you were supposed to talk to him?"

"There's no one out here Sam." Dean replied, wafting the smoke away and stepping back from Sam.

"Okay, so how come you've been out here for 20 minutes." He asked.

Dean didn't replay at first and looked down at the cigarette between his fingers. "I… just came out for a smoke."

Sam was confused. Why had he forgotten? Where was the guide? Dean was also confused. He wondered he couldn't remember why he came outside. Maybe it was the wine. He had had a lot of it. Maybe he was just tiered. He didn't get much sleep last night.

"Let's go. I'm sick of eating cheese." Dean mumbled, taking one last drag before he tossed the dog end on the ground.

Sam agreed and followed Dean back into the cottage. There was something niggling at the back of Dean's neck… 3 words what didn't seem to make sense to him.

Never. Let. Go.