A/N – So sorry for the delay! The end of a school year is pretty hectic for a teacher and I've been thoroughly enjoying the start of summer vacation (aka – lots of sleep!). I promise to be more diligent with my writing. Thanks to all who have written nice things to me and I hope I don't disappoint you in the future.

CHAPTER 7

Dean could not believe what he was seeing. Well, he could believe it because when it came to the ladies, he was the man!

He was lying in a really long bed, a hospital bed by the looks of the room around him. At the end of the bed were two hot looking girls, a blonde and a redhead. And from Dean could see, the only thing they were wearing where those skimpy aprons candy strippers wear.

"Hey ladies. Are you here to take my temperature?" It wasn't the smoothest line he had ever used, but it seemed to work. The two ladies smiled and started slowly crawling towards him. It was a beautiful sight.

The blonde slid up next to him while the redhead straddled his legs. Without a word the redhead started massaging Dean's thighs. She worked his hands onto his stomach, pushing his t-shirt up.

Dean was enjoying the foreplay but really wanted the show to get on the road. He went to sit up, but found himself unable to move. He couldn't even move his head.

The blonde's head moved into his sight, her tongue wetting her lips. She moved in. Expecting the hottest kiss he had gotten in a while, Dean was surprised when she started licking his cheek. "Ah, honey, you don't have to do that. I'm ready right now." She simply smiled and kept licking, moving down to his neck.

Meanwhile the redhead moved her hands up to his chest. She was basically lying on him, with her face close to his. Dean closed his eyes and relaxed his lips, ready for the mind-blowing kiss that was coming his way.

A sudden pain on the bridge of his nose forced Dean's eyes open. He looked into a pair of black and yellow eyes surrounded by orange hair. "Oh sh . . ." The orange cat head-butted him again, causing him to see little points of light. That's when he felt a rough tongue licking his neck. He looked over to see the white cat licking away. "Jesus!" he whispered harshly.

"Dean?"

"Nothing, Sam. Just the damn cats. Go back to sleep."

"Mmph."

Dean sat up and swung his legs out of bed, very glad he didn't have to climb over his brother in his current condition. The two cats immediately jumped down. He stumbled to the bathroom. He was sure to shut the door to keep the bathroom light from waking up Lucy. He took care of business that his dream had started. "A friggin' wet dream about cats. God, I've got to get laid," he mumbled as he turned out the light.

The room was dimly lit from a source outside. On the way back to his bed, he could make out two small figures by the room door. "OK, Cheech and Chong, I get it." Dean continued to the door and cracked it open. The two cats scurried out. Dean used the light from the full moon to look at his watch. It was 3:17. Sighing deeply, Dean had to remind himself that these cats were not evil, that he should not pull out his gun and shoot them. What would that be called anyway? Felinicide? Kitticide? Justifiable homicide?

The return of the cats pulled him out of his murderous thoughts. He shut the door and made his way back to the bed he was sharing with Sam. That's when he heard the sobbing.

Dean immediately went to Lucy's bed. She was lying on her side, facing the wall. "Lucy?"

When he didn't get a response, he sat on the edge and touched her shoulder. The little girl was still asleep. He could feel her shaking and crying.

He suddenly flashed to an image of 5-year old Sam crying in his sleep in another dungy motel room. He always had nightmares if he went to sleep before Dad came back from working.

He started to stroke her shoulder. He noticed her forehead was damp with sweat. "Hey, kiddo. You're just having a nightmare. It's OK." He pushed hair off of her forehead, frowning at the heat he felt.

Lucy opened her eyes and looked up at him. It took a little bit for her to focus on him, then sat up quickly and looked around.

"We're at the motel, remember? You're all right now. You were just having a bad dream." He continued to rub her shoulder as he spoke softly. "I think you might have a fever. I'm gonna get you some aspirin. OK? I'll be right back."

Dean crossed the dimly lit room to his bag, where he knew he should have some kind of pain reliever. He brought what he found into the bathroom. Turning on the light, he scanned the label to figure out how much to give her. Before leaving, he quickly dampened the end of a towel with cool water.

Sitting next to her again, he handed Lucy one capsule and the cup of water Sam had left for her. When she finished taking the medication, he wiped her face with the towel. "Does that feel better?"

She nodded tiredly. She lay back down, this time facing him.

Dean wasn't sure what to do next. If this was 5-year old Sammy, he would just lay down with him and put him back to sleep, telling him that Daddy would be home soon. But this was not Sammy. "Um, do you remember what you were dreaming about? Do you want to talk about it?"

He cringed at how stupid that sounded. Who the hell wants to talk about nightmares? They're usually scary and upsetting. You'd sooner want to forget all about them than think about them again.

Surprisingly, she reached out and touched his arm. It was the bad man. He kept saying that it's my fault that Aunt Miranda's . . . gone. That I make everyone go away. That I'm always going to be alone.

He could tell that she was getting upset again. He slouched down so he was lying next to her on his side. "You're not alone. I'm here. Sam's here. Those two pieces of sh . . . fur are here. You're not alone, Lucy." He pushed the hair off her forehead again. He started rubbing the skin between her eyebrows with the side of a finger. He used to do this with Sam to help him sleep. Lucy's eyes started to droop. Pulling up the sheet and blanket to cover her, he started to get off the bed.

No. A small hand grabbed his arm. Please stay with me.

"Sure, kiddo. No problem." Or at least 'til you fall asleep. He laid on his back, putting his arm out across the top of her pillow. Lucy shifted so her body was next to his. Dean dropped his arm behind her and rubbed circles on her back.

The next few minutes Dean continued to rub Lucy's back. He thought about the last time he was in this position. It was probably that time when Sam broke his ankle. Despite the pain meds he was given at the hospital, Sam still complained about the ache and insisted he would never be able to get to sleep. A mere ten minutes of Dr. Dean's Magic Hands found his baby brother drooling on his pillow.

The slow and even breathing told Dean that his magic touch still worked. He sighed deeply. He would wait a few more minutes before attempting to return to his bed. He was hoping for a few more hours of sleep before heading to Lucy's house. It was probably going to be really hard on the little girl, and Dean wanted to be ready to help her. That meant not losing his temper because he was tired and cranky.

He felt something brush his head and looked up to see the white cat stretching out on Lucy's pillow. Then, there was a slight dip at the end of the bed. Dean looked down to see the orange cat curling up by his feet.

"Night, Bonnie and Clyde."

A/N: This chapter is shorter than I first planned. But that trusty Catholic guilt made me get this out. Hope it was worth the wait.