Chapter 9

Chapter 9

290 Days

Spokane, Washington – 10:12 pm

They had driven back to Wendy's apartment in absolute silence. They had all climbed the steps to her door together, but in their minds each one of them was very much alone; Dean with his thoughts, Wendy with her fear and Sam with his rage.

Wendy passed the keys to Dean, who opened up and strode into the place, going to the television and switching on to the local channel. In true media style, it had taken the local press less time to show up at the rail yard, than it had for the trio to return to Wendy's apartment.

'…responding to an emergency call from the night watchmen of the Trent Avenue Rail Yard. Details surrounding this incident are sketchy at this time, but there is talk, that upon their arrival, police found the two night watchmen unconscious but unharmed. The rumour mill is also bustling with news that the bodies of up to a dozen large dogs were found in the rail yard, all of whom appear to have been shot, but this is, as yet, unconfirmed. This incident seems to have left police scratching their heads. Channel 5 news will continue to keep you updated when more information comes to light. This is Doug Stofren, Channel 5 News.'

Dean muted the sound of the television a looked back over his shoulders to where both Wendy and Sam stood, watching in absolute silence.

"Wendy, sit down be for you fall down." said Dean, his voice sounding overly gruff, but there was an air of concern about it, that shook Sam out of his own thoughts.

For the first time since they had left the rail yard, Sam took a long hard look at Wendy. She was pale, her eyes swollen and bloodshot and she gripped on to the lapels of her coat with a death grip so intense it made her knuckles white.

With gentleness, Sam prised open her hands and held them in his, his face softening as she turned eyes that were wide and wild on him. It was hard for her to reconcile, the gentle man that she saw in front of her with the angry violent side she had seen earlier. It was almost as if two separate people resided within Sam Winchester and she realised that she knew neither of them.

"You look beat." Sam said gently caressing his fingers across her cheek. "How about we get you to bed?"

Wendy let Sam guide her towards her bedroom, she could find no words to express how she was feeling…hell, she couldn't even manage to say 'Goodnight' to Dean. She just went like some detached automaton into her room.

Sam paused at Wendy's bedroom door and looked back at where Dean sat on the sofa.

"I know you miss him Dean, I do too." said Sam gently "But that wasn't dad tonight."

Dean looked over his shoulder at his brother. His face was so sincere that it made Dean ache for him. The older Winchester believed that it was their father that they had seen tonight, and more importantly he believed in the Doc, but if he was going to help Sam in any way, those were facts that he was going to have to keep to himself.

"I know." He answered quietly, hating the necessary deception. Turning back to the television, Dean heard Sam disappear into Wendy's room and knew that he would probably have his hands full with Wendy. This hunt had gone south rapidly and poor Wendy, who had been on tender hooks to begin with, had been exposed to all the worst aspects of their job in the space of a few short hours.

Sam turned on the bedside lamp, beating back the darkness of Wendy's bedroom. Her large eyes followed him about the room, but she stood motionless like her body could no longer respond to her own commands.

"That's better" Sam muttered in a gentle voice, as he walked over to Wendy and slipped her coat off her shoulders.

He looked long and hard into her eyes, reading the terror that was storming through her. He trailed his ringers down her face in a gentle caress and felt the bone deep quivering that was wracking her body.

"I'm so sorry" Sam finally whispered, gathering the woman up in his arms just as all of her emotions broke over her.

Wendy held on to Sam, a strangled chocking sound erupting from her throat instead of tears, she couldn't cry, she was way beyond tears. She had gone this evening to face her fears, but instead of feeling strong and empowered, she was more confused and more fearful than ever.

She had realised far too late that this was a game well beyond her realm of experience and with stakes so much higher than anything she could conceive of. If she made a mistake at work the worst that could happen was a stray would get away or some animals missed food for a day. If Sam and Dean made a mistake people died.

Perhaps that was why Sam was a man of such extremes. He had shifted from the caring man that she had made love to that afternoon, to a ruthless hunter that firmly believed that the ends justified the means. He had been fully prepared almost eager to kill that woman they had met in the train yard. By rights, she should be dead, Sam shot at her more than a dozen times, hell Wendy had even taken a shot at her.

But the woman had lived. The three of them had a history, that much was clear to Wendy, but how it all fit together eluded her. She had been so sure that the woman had been trying to help her, yet Sam's vehement insistence to the contrary only left her more confused and more in doubt of everything that she had experienced that evening.

There was a part of Wendy's mind that was trying to convince her that she should have left them all there by the train tracks and just taken herself home to her safe little apartment in her safe little world. After all, what did she really know about any of these people? But her gut told her that she could never go back. She had seen and experienced too much and her world would no longer be safe.

Sam stroked her hair, holding her tightly to him. Guilt churned in his stomach, a bitter pill he would have to swallow. He was amazed that she even let him get this close to her, because he could feel the waves of fear and confusion rolling off of her. Not just fear about the things that she had witnessed tonight, but fear of him and the lengths that he had been willing to go.

He could certainly understand that, he had surprised even himself. When he thought Wendy was in danger, a frightening flame had ignited within him. I had fuelled a rage so intense that he had been prepared to do just about anything to keep her safe. He could have levelled that rail yard, he had touched enough power within himself to know that, and he would have happily done it if it would have kept Wendy or Dean safe.

As he realised just how committed he was to protecting those that he cared about, subconsciously he began projecting that in a subtle psychic push that would have barely been noticeable. He felt some of the tension bleed out of Wendy and her body all but melted into his.

He hated the fact that Wendy had been exposed to his world. Hated it worse that even though the pack had all but been destroyed, Rimmon had still gotten away, and worst of all, he hated that Hannah had come in contact with Wendy.

It wouldn't have taken a great psychic to figure out that Sam had feelings for this woman, and he was certain that if Hannah needed a pawn to assist in her own agenda, she would happily use Wendy to get to him and Dean. He had made Wendy a promise that he would keep her safe and he was determined to be a man of his word. First he would hunt down Rimmon and destroy him, then he would find Hannah.

He knew Dean would oppose him in this, but he would have to find a way to convince his brother that it was their only course of action. Hannah would never stop, she would always be at their back and while Sam didn't know what her ultimate motives were, he could not ignore that darkness that he could sense within her.

Clear now in what he needed to do, Sam pressed his lips to Wendy's forehead, flexing his long arms around her and pulling her tighter in against him.

"I'm so sorry you had to be there tonight Wendy. You didn't need to see that."

Wendy leaned back looking at him in the eye and holding his gaze. "It's not your fault. You and Dean tried to warn me, I just didn't understand."

"Did I frighten you?" Sam asked, already knowing the answer but needing to hear it from her.

Wendy bit down on her lip as if in contemplation, her eyes left his and went to the floor. "Yes" she answered honestly lifting her head so he could again read her eyes. "There is so much about you that I don't know."

Sam let out the staccato breath that had lodged in his chest, and took a small step back instantly conscious that he didn't want to crowd Wendy or make her feel trapped. But as he moved, Wendy's fingers tightened on his shoulders and she held him firmly.

"But I do know" she said on a whisper "That you would never hurt me."

Relief washed through Sam, so intense that it almost buckled his knees. In such a short time Wendy had become important to him, her good opinion was important to him and he would have been devastated to have lost it. She was afraid, of what he did, of the abilities that he had, but she wasn't afraid of him as a man…and that was enough.

Sam claimed her mouth with his own, kissing her fervently, acknowledging that he understood and accepted what she was offering. He felt her long elegant fingers twist in his hair and let himself get lost on the heady sensation for a moment. Then he stepped back cupping her face in his large hands.

"Why don't you get changed and jump into bed and I'll go and make you something to help you sleep."

Wendy smiled wanly at him and nodded her head. Her hands kept contact with him as he moved towards the door and just before they lost that contact her grip tightened around his fingers.

"Sam" she said looking at him furtively "Will you stay with me tonight."

Sam smiled giving her fingers a reassuring squeeze "If that's what you want, of course."

Wendy smiled in thanks, and let her hand drop away from his, going about the task of shedding her blood spattered and filthy clothes. For a moment the task seemed too enormous, and she was tempted just to roll onto the bed, soiled clothes and all.

Sam slipped out of her room and had a look around the living room, still expecting to see Dean on the sofa. But the living room was dark and Dean must have taken himself off to the second bedroom.

Sam looked briefly over his shoulder at Wendy, wondering if he should spare some time and go speak with Dean. Seeing Hannah there tonight was probably hitting Dean hard, and while Sam knew that Dean would never admit it, he probably needed someone to talk to about it.

Feeling torn between the people he felt responsible for, Sam debated it for a moment. He felt that both needed him now, but it was a question of right at this moment which one needed him more. Put in those terms, Sam realised that there wasn't really a choice. Dean was fierce and strong and probably wouldn't appreciate intrusion at this point, while Wendy was frightened and feeling vulnerable and had asked Sam for his help.

Determined to speak with Dean in the morning, Sam went to the kitchen and looked through the cupboards to make Wendy something that would help her sleep. He heated up some milk in the microwave and mixed in some drinking chocolate that he had found in the cupboards and with a heavy hand he poured in some hazelnut liqueur that was obviously a favourite of Wendy's.

Taking a test sip, Sam smiled as the warm sweet liquid ran down his throat, the liqueur leaving a pleasant lingering warmth as it went down. It was perfect, soothing and probably had enough alcohol in it to help Wendy relax and make her sleep.

Sam made his way back to Wendy's bedroom, with mug in hand. When he slipped in, he noticed that Wendy had gotten into the bed as he had suggested, but in a manner that Sam suspected was unconscious, she had pulled the bed clothes high up under her chin and looked almost like a frightened child.

Easing himself onto the edge of the bed, Sam smiled at this beautiful woman and handed her the mug.

"What's this?" she questioned, eyeing it almost suspiciously.

"Hot chocolate" Sam said with a smile in his voice "With a kick."

Wendy took a sip and Sam almost laughed as he saw the recognition of the liqueur touch her face and she tried hard not to cough.

"Wow" she said, her voice momentarily abandoning her "That's some kick."

Sam's chuckle rumbled in his chest, it was a comforting sound that made Wendy smile.

"Drink up" he said moving off the bed, he shed his clothes, deciding to leave his boxers on. He didn't want Wendy to think that just because he was staying with her, that he would make any sexual demands on her. He moved around the bed and slid in under the covers.

Wendy took a tentative sip from the steaming mug and looked over the rim at Sam with questioning eyes.

"Sam" she said hesitantly "Who was that woman tonight?"

Sam sighed, knowing that this topic would have come up sooner or later.

"She's…" He hesitated looking for the right words to convey exactly who and what Hannah was.

"We met her doing a job in Iowa nearly a year ago and she helped us out then. In fact she saved our lives."

Wendy turned eyes of confusion onto Sam, she took a long swig from her mug and ten dropped down in the bed beside him so that she could press her cheek against the warmth of his arm.

"If she saved your life then, why do you think she was trying to hurt me tonight?"

Sam looked down at the golden haired beauty lying next to him. He raised his arm and she resettled closer to him, fitting herself in the crook of his arm and pressing her cheek against his chest.

"So much has happened since then." He said enigmatically "The demon gate was opened and it sent a horde of demons out into the world, anyone of them could be pulling her strings now."

He sighed and Wendy could feel the tension in him, as if there was some great internal struggle going on just under his skin.

"I just sense such a depth of darkness within her, I can't trust her. And now with her bringing up visions of my dad, I know she is trying something, I just can't quite figure out what. Dean should have just let me take care of her."

The pair lapsed into silence, Sam regretting brining up the violence that was inherent in his way of life and Wendy sorry that she had returned the tension of the evening back into Sam with her question.

She tightened her hold on him and ran her hand up and down his arm, trying to sooth him.

"You'll have to leave soon won't you?"

Sam looked down at the top of Wendy's head as he heard her whisper, surprised that she had broached the subject now.

"Yes" he said unwilling to lie to her "Once we get a fix on which way Rimmon's gone and once I know you're safe, we'll have to get going"

Wendy looked up at him, meeting his brown eyed stare with her own. Silent understanding ran between them. He wasn't about to just pick up and leave, he wasn't going to take off at first light, he would put his life on hold for a moment and make sure she was fine, and for that she was truly grateful.

Reaching up, she ran her fingers along his jaw, tugging gently on his face so that her lips met his in a gentle kiss of appreciation. Sam indulged in the sweet sincerity of her kiss for a moment before moving down in the bed and gathering her close.

As Sam shifted Wendy reached behind herself and switched off the bedside lamp. The sudden darkness made her stiffen slightly, until she felt Sam's arms encircle her and draw her near.

She resettled in the crook of his arm, letting his presence and heat burn away her ever present fear. For a long time she lay in silence, until she felt Sam's breathing slow and deepen and she let his solid heartbeat lull her into sleep.

Sam woke as intense light broke in through the small gap in the curtains and fell across his face. He awoke realising that he had a surprisingly dream free sleep. With Wendy in his arms he hadn't thought to call on Mike or his mother and as a result they had not come.

He rolled from his back to his side to protect his eyes from the morning light that was intruding on his sleep and as he shifted, he felt Wendy resettle herself in her sleep, so that she was pressed up against his chest, his long body wrapping around hers.

Sam couldn't help smiling at Wendy's subconscious action and with sudden acute understanding he realised why. Jess had been the same way, exactly the same way. Usually Sam was not one for sleeping tangled up with someone else. He enjoyed holding someone, particularly after making love with them, but when it came to going to sleep, he would have to distance himself in the bed and find his own space.

That was until he met Jess. She had an uncanny ability to unconsciously mirror all of his moves in the bed; some how she had been able to move with him in his sleep so that he had never felt crowded or uncomfortable. Sam had always taken that as a sign that they were meant to be together. In the bed with Jess he always been able to sleep and he would have been happy to have woken up every single day of his life tangled up with her.

He realised as he pressed his lips to the top of Wendy's head that she also had that ability and the comprehension came like a sucker punch to his stomach. He pulled her close, a sudden protective impulse coursing through him. She stirred slightly in her sleep and he soothed her until she resettled in again pushing back into his chest.

Sam dozed for quite a long time until he felt Wendy shift, she moved with tentative motions, trying not to wake him, so that when he tightened his grip on her, he heard her gasp in surprise, before she laughed slightly allowing herself to be pulled back down into the bed.

"Where are you going?" Sam said without opening his eyes, but a smile tugged at his lip.

"I was going to get up and get in the shower and make sure you Winchester's have something to eat for breakfast."

"Screw breakfast." said Sam burying his face in the soft curls at her neck.

Wendy couldn't help the warmth that flooded through her as Sam kissed and bit her neck lightly. She resisted him for all of about thirty seconds and then she turned into him so that she could meet his gentle assault with a counter attack.


Dean rubbed his hand across the mirror, looking back at the reflection distorted by the rivulets of waters that were condensing on the shinny surface. He was desperately trying to ignore the intimate sounds coming from the bedroom next door, but in the small apartment he couldn't seem to escape from it anywhere.

He pulled the towel from his hips and rubbed it one last time over his arm and shoulders, before he dropped it to the floor and reached for his change of clothes. He had lain awake for most of the night wondering what he was going to do about Sam, until in the early hours of the morning he had to concede that he would need help.

Dean hung his towel neatly on the towel rack of Wendy's bathroom, before grabbing his coat and keys and heading out of the apartment. He jumped in the Bronco with no particular destination in mind; his only thought was the need to ring Bobby.

Judging from his response last night, Dean now felt Sam was like a gun with a bullet jammed in the barrel, he was dangerous and unpredictable and Dean sure as hell didn't want him going off and taking out an innocent. He had desperately wanted to call the Doc, but if Sam caught wind of that, it could be more than enough to push him over the edge, so instead he decided to contact the man who was almost as knowledgeable about this as his father had been.

Dean dialled Bobby's number as he drove and nearly winced as he heard the sleepy response down the phone. He hadn't considered where Bobby may have been, they hadn't exactly spoken to him recently; nor Ellen for that matter, but he needed them both now.

As Dean filled Bobby in on the situation and Hannah's suspicions, the older man grew very quiet on the other end of the phone.

After a pregnant pause, Dean started to worry "Bobby ….you still there?"

"Yeah…Yeah I'm here?" said the gruff voice distractedly "Don't worry Dean…I'll get in contact with Ellen, we'll think of something."

"Like what?" said Dean, suddenly concerned at the older man's tone.

"If Sam's reading you Dean, it's better if you don't know."

Dean's brow furrowed in concern, for the first time he began regretting contacting Bobby. The old hunter was a good friend and certainly loyal, but he was also a man with a proven history of doing what needed to be done…whatever that entailed.

"Bobby" Dean said sternly "This is Sam remember…you're not going to do anything to hurt him."

"Of course not." replied Bobby, but Dean got the distinct impression that he was being mollified. "Give me a day or two to come up with a plan, and I'll call you back."

Dean hung up his phone with an angry snap, irritated at himself for going to others about Sam. He wanted to have faith in Bobby but his gut was nagging at him that he may have just made a rather significant error in judgement.

The worst of it was he had to put it out of his mind before he returned to the apartment. If he didn't Sam would surely know and that would just escalate a bad situation to catastrophic.

Dean pulled the truck over outside of a coffee shop. He dashed inside buying coffees, the local paper and a selection a danishes and pastries. Surprisingly, the rather banal activity of thinking about breakfast gave Dean the focus he needed to push his worries to the far recesses of his mind. If Sam went looking, it would be all over, Dean had no delusions about that, but on the surface he felt now that he could face his brother and not tip his hand.

He returned to the apartment and rather embarrassingly he had to knock on the door, because he had forgotten to take Wendy's keys. Sam opened the door dressed in his boxes and a t-shirt.

"Hey Dude" he said with a smile "Where'd you go?"

"Coffee run" said Dean holding up the cardboard tray of paper cups as he moved into the room. "I felt like a bit of a third wheel hanging around the apartment so I thought I'd just go out real quick."

Dean looked at his brother and despite the turmoil he was fighting hard to burry; he gave his brother a Cheshire cat smile.

Sam returned his brother's gaze, a strange combination of embarrassment and smugness. "It wasn't that quick." He muttered under his breath and heard Dean's bark of laughter in response.

As Dean pulled out the cups of coffee and sat one in front of Sam he sobered quickly.

"I called Bobby, told him about Rimmon."

Dean kept his eyes on the stuff he was unpacking and through sheer force of will, kept his mind deliberately blank.

Sam took a bite from one of the pastries like a man who hadn't eaten in a week. "What he say?" he asked with half a mouth full of Danish.

"He's going to keep and eye out for Demon sign in the surrounding areas, help us get a heading on this bastard."

"So what do we do now?" asked Sam and from the slight hesitation in his brother's voice, Dean could sense the younger Winchester's desire to stick around for a while. Normally this would have been out of the question in Dean's way of doing things, but right now, having Sam's attention focused squarely on Wendy worked in Dean's favour.

"Well without some sort of clue or direction as to how to get this bastard, we do what we always do." said Dean with a careless shrug "We troll through the papers, police records and the FBI database and we look for the next hunt."

"Really?" said Sam sounding somewhat surprised by Dean's answers.

"What else can we do? Unless you got some mojo you want to try?"

Dean was hesitant to bring up Sam's gifts in conversation, particularly after last night, but if he was going to appear normal, he had to act like the previous night was nothing out of the ordinary.

"No" said Sam contemplatively "He's still shielding himself and I haven't quite gotten a sense of how to track that."

Dean shrugged nonchalantly as he opened up the local paper and began to skim across the headlines.

Sam watched his brother for a few moments as he seemingly read through the paper. He looked tired, his eyes sunken and rimmed with dark circles almost like bruises. It was obvious that he had not slept well for some time, and for a moment, Sam felt a sharp pang of guilt for the dreamless restful sleep he had with Wendy the previous night.

"Dean" said Sam gently, anticipating anger from his brother "About Hannah….."

Dean's eyes snapped up as Sam said her name. "I'm ok" interrupted Dean, eager to sideline this particular topic. "Honestly Sammy. I'm ok with it."

Sam looked dubiously at his brother, but said nothing more about it returning his attention to his coffee and danish.


289 Days

Spokane, Washington – 10:42 am

Hannah glanced at the clock that sat on the bedside table. She had another twenty minutes or so until the check out time, and she cast a final look around the room to make certain that she hadn't left anything, as she packed the last of her things into her bag.

The room was quaint with a beautiful view of the Spokane Valley, and given a different set of circumstances she may have stayed, but after the previous night, Spokane felt tainted to her. She caught sight of herself in the large mirror over the dresser and looked at her face.

She was pale, paler than usual and her eyes were swollen and bloodshot. Protecting herself from bullets, demon dogs and Sam's powerful assault had stripped her of nearly everything, and a sensible person would have stayed put for a day or two, but Hannah just couldn't. The whole city felt wrong to her senses and she could not allow herself to drop her guard.

She had barely slept, worrying over Sam and Dean. Her obligation to deliver John Winchester's message was over, and now the spirit was well and truly gone. That absence felt strange, like a missing limb might. She had grown used to the feel of him on the periphery of her consciousness and now that he was no longer there, she had to school herself to stop looking for him.

Strangely, now that he was gone, she felt some residual responsibility for his son's well being. Something was definitely happening with Sam, and while Dean was very skilled, she doubted that he was in anyway prepared for what was happening to his brother. Not that she was in any position to judge, Hannah had no notion as to what was affecting Sam either, but she had a few more weapons in her arsenal against someone like him and she knew that she could help.

Despite every instinct to the contrary, Hannah had put her faith in Dean. He had said to her that he would take care of it, but more importantly he had let her know unquestioningly that he believed her. Hannah had been surprised at just how affected she was by the knowledge, but after having a evening where she was battered and bruised and beaten, that one fact shown like a beacon and warmed her in spite of her evening of adversity.

Collecting her bags, Hannah walked down the hall to the reception foyer. As she settled her account with the round faced inn keeper, she browsed through brochures and pamphlets that were in neat piles on the counter.

She knew that she had to get back to the cottage, but a hard push clear across the country held absolutely no appeal. What she needed was somewhere out of the way where she could go and recuperate and get some perspective back in her life. As she thumbed through the pamphlets she spotted a photo of a beautiful manor house, perched on a hill overlooking a lake.

Hannah picked up the brochure, running her thumb over its crisp high sheen service. "Clark House" was written in Copperplate Gothic across the top and when she flipped it over, there was a small map with a magnified view of Idaho, and Coeur D'Alene in bold red script.

"Excuse me" she said to the inn keeper, who looked up at her with warm blue eyes. "Is this relatively close?"

The innkeeper squinted for a moment, looking at the brochure that Hannah held up for her.

"What Clark House?" she said leaning forward slightly "Sure! It's only about 20miles down the I90. Would you like me to call ahead to make a reservation for you?"

Hannah smiled at the woman who looked at her expectantly "No, that's alright. I'm kind of playing it by ear."

"Very well" said the inn keeper, still smiling "If I just get your signature here, then you can be on your way."

Hannah signed the checkout slip and passed the woman her room key. Then with brochure in hand, she gathered her bags and headed down to where Charlotte was parked.


287 Days

Spokane, Washington – 4:06am

Consciousness crashed in on Sam and his eyes flicked open, only to be met with darkness. He could feel heat radiating from the woman who lay beside him and he turned into her, burying his face in the soft curls of her hair. For two days he had been given a reprieve from his life and he had been able to indulge in the fantasy life that he had been living here with Wendy, but Mike had visited his dreams this evening, bearing news of Rimmon and Sam's sense of duty could net ignore that.

When the sun rose, he and Dean would have to leave and the very thought made his whole body ache in despair. He gathered Wendy closer, wishing that time would slow so that he could be with her for longer, but that was a futile wish. He pressed kisses to the back of her neck and on her shoulder, breathing her sent deep into his lungs and committing the feel of her skin to memory.

"Sam...?" Wendy muttered sleepily. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Sam said, feeling a sharp pang of guilt for waking her "I just wanted to kiss you."

Wendy felt the warm press of Sam's lips to her neck and shoulder. He kissed like a man eating his last meal and realisation flooded through her. She rolled in his arms so that she could face him. She couldn't make out his features in the darkness, but it didn't matter, there was an inherent intimacy in facing him.

"You have to leave today...don't you?"

"Shhh" whispered Sam, running his hand over her soft warm flesh that was deliciously naked under the bed clothes "Just kiss me."

He hadn't answered her question, but she already knew the answer. A knot of desperation curled in her gut. It wasn't like she didn't know this was coming, but the reality of it was more than Wendy had been prepared for. She found Sam's face with her hands, running her thumb over his soft lips and then with all the fear and desperation that was unfurling within her, she kissed him, hard and deep.

Sam wrapped himself around her, trying to get as close to her as possible, urgency was riding both of them. The ever present knowledge that soon he would be gone shadowed every touch and every caress making each one an act of desperation. Sam threaded his fingers through Wendy's hair, curling his hand into a fist, he held her with almost bruising force as he kissed her thoroughly.

Wendy's lips parted under the assault from Sam's mouth and she could taste him everywhere, the sensation stirring warmth in her stomach. She could feel his pulsing length against the satin soft skin of her belly, so she ground her pelvis down into him stroking him with her entire body.

Sam gasped at her motion, allowing her to take a much needed breath, but it was only a momentary pause and he went back to kissing her hard. Their arms and legs tangled in a writhing mass, screwing the bedclothes up into an uncomfortable pile right next to them. With a few strategically placed kicks, the lovers had sent the bedclothes off the bed to the floor.

In an uncharacteristic show of dominance and strength, Wendy pushed Sam to his back, straddling his hips and allowing his rock hard cock to settle in the crevice of her feminine flesh. She held his head down with fingers twisted in his hair as she trailed her tongue up the corded muscle of his throat in a long sensuous glide.

Wendy felt Sam buck slightly beneath her and could not help but revel in the sense of power that it gave her. She dragged her hand down the contours of his chest and feeling his taught nipples under her fingers, she bent forward to take each one in her mouth.

Sam gripped Wendy's hips and ground himself against her, feeling the slick glide of her flesh over his cock. He throbbed so badly he was almost in pain and he was both eager and reticent to bury himself within her. He felt her teeth sink into the flesh of his chest in a provocative little bite which only managed to twist the coil of desire tighter inside him.

Sam grabbed a fistful of Wendy's hair and tugged on it with a force that was close to painful, so that she was sitting up over his hips, then with a subtle shifting of his muscles he repositioned himself so that the head of his penis was pressed to the opening of her sheath.

A moment passed between them, where everything stilled. If there had been enough light, they would have been looking at each other, but in the sensual darkness all they could do was feel each other. Then Sam thrust up hard, impaling Wendy deeply, a grunting groan escaping his lips as pleasure ignited within him.

Wendy's head dropped back as Sam's cock pushed with the exquisite stroke through her slick folds. Heat flooded through her, starting from where their flesh was pressed tightly together and rising up her belly and over her breasts to her cheeks.

Sam still clutched at her hips as he withdrew almost completely, only to push back into her in a velvet glide of flesh against flesh. He felt almost drunk by the euphoric sensation coursing through him, but there was always this underlying urgency and he almost couldn't prevent the pumping of his hips as he pushed into her again and again.

Wendy splayed her hands against Sam's solid chest, setting up a rolling rhythm with her hips that timed in with each one of his thrusts. Sensation pulsed through her as she rode him in that steady rhythm, but after a short while, her breaths shortened and subtle wistful moans slipped from her lips. Her head fell forward a moment before her body shattered and as her ecstasy took her she arched her back, throwing her head back in rapture.

As he felt Wendy reach her release, Sam stilled within her taking great pleasure in the contractions he felt around his throbbing shaft . She slumped down, spent against his chest and her wrapped his long arms around her, revelling in the feel of her sweat slick flesh pushed against his own.

In one dexterous move, Sam rolled so that she was now beneath him and with a long sensuous kiss, he began to move within her again, each thrust causing an answering after shock deep within Wendy's body. In no time Wendy had picked his rhythm and had angled her pelvis forward so that every one of Sam's thrusts stroked deep within her. She could feel the heat building again and she clung to Sam's powerful arms to give herself something to anchor to.

Wendy's sheath gripped Sam like a glove, she was so tight and so slick with the juices of her excitement that she felt like heaven, the sensation a heady mix of both pain and undefinable pleasure. He had wanted to draw his pleasure out, building it up slowly and teasing Wendy with the possibility of a climax, only to leave her wanting so that he could start all over again, but his body had other ideas.

When he felt the quiver of imminent release run through her, he could not stop his body, and with almost mindless abandoned he pistoned into her, until he felt his balls tighten in anticipation. Wendy's sheath closed over him almost painfully and he spilt himself deep within her, his body shaking with the intensity of his release.

Wendy was wound so tight by Sam's deep constant motion that when she felt him loose his grip on his control it was enough to push her over. Pleasure overwhelmed her and she clutched at Sam's shoulders, her fingernails, biting deeply into his flesh. Completely spent, Wendy welcomed Sam's weight and it came down on her. He rested his forehead against hers, dropping gentle tender kisses in her lips and cheeks.

Wendy wrapped both of her arms and legs around Sam's body, unwilling to let him go for quite some time. It was only when he felt her body cooling, that Sam pulled out of her gently and reached for the abandoned bed clothes, pulling them up over Wendy's body. Sam settled in behind Wendy gathering her close and wrapping his body around hers.

"Do something for me." she said into the intimate darkness "When you leave, do it quickly, just like a band aid. I don't do farewells too well."

"Alright" said Sam slightly taken back by the request, but at this moment he could deny her nothing.

"And if you are not coming back, do me a favour...lie to me."

Sam pressed his face into the hollow of her neck, his hand caressing the smooth contours of her body.

"Oh I'll be back for sure." he said fervently

"See" she said in voice barely audible "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Sam tightened his arms around her, sending her waves of reassurance. Her mind was a hive of activity but she was tired, Sam could sense it within her, so he sent a subtle push for her to sleep, and soon he felt her body go slack in his arms. He lay with her for hours until sunlight breached the dark solitude of their room. With the greatest of care Sam slipped from the bed and headed off to wake Dean.

Even thought he heard the gentle rapping on door, Dean still reached for the hunting knife that he kept under his pillow. The door opened and from the size of the silhouette, Dean could make out it was Sam.

"Hey" he said sounding weary "What's up?"

Sam came and sat on the edge of the bed and Dean felt the mattress dip from his brother's weight.

"I know where Rimmon is going." Sam said simply, letting all of the implications of that statement go unspoken.

"Yeah? How?" asked Dean, pushing himself up so his back rested against the bed head.

"Dream." said Sam without further explanation "He's heading south east to Utah. He could even be there by now."

"Utah? What the hell is in Utah except Mormons and rocks?" grumbled Dean.

"I don't know, I haven't worked that out yet."

Dean tried to see his brothers face in the semi light of the early morning. "So when do you want to leave?"

"As soon as we can." replied Sam, his voice deliberately flat, but Dean knew his brother well enough to hear the subtle tone of pain.

"What about Wendy?…I mean now that we know where he's going we could sick around here for a few more days."

"I appreciate what you are trying to do Dean, but we would still have to go some time." said Sam, sounding thoroughly defeated. "She asked that we leave quickly, so I want to do it before she wakes up."

Dean sighed, hearing the pain in his brother's voice and empathising with it on a level that Sam would never understand. "Why don't you ask her to come with us, I've seen the way she looks at you dude and she's……"

"I couldn't ask that of her Dean" said Sam running his hands agitatedly through his hair "I wouldn't. She has a life here, a life that she loves."

"Then we'll come back, after we get Rimmon." said Dean determinedly.

Sam patted his brother on the leg accepting Dean's understanding of just how difficult this was for him to leave.

"Alright" he said quietly.

Silence passed between the brothers for a moment and then Dean pushed back the covers to get out of be.

"Give me twenty minutes" he said returning to his harsh business like tone, as he hurried out of the bedroom towards the bathroom.