CHAPTER 10

He paused, a slow shiver worked it's way down his spine, he took several deep breaths and looked up at me. Something in his eyes shifted, his face paled as he realized how he was restraining me. I didn't mind but it was too close to how he had been shackled in the vision. He released my wrists and slowly pushed my shirt up, I arched my back as he worked it up and over my head. Once it was completely off he stared down at me, then looked over his shoulders at the candles.

A small grin made the corners of his mouth curve up, he slid his arms under me and shifted us ninety degrees to the right. I immediately realized why. The candles were at the foot of the bed and when he was on top of me he blocked their light, by shifting us so we were parallel to them he could watch the light dance across my skin.

I relaxed and let him watch the shadows dance and play across my bare chest and face. My mind drifted back to other nights we had spent together. There were nights we had plain, simple sex, no emotions, just physical release. I remembered one time the first words out of his mouth when he called me were "So, in the mood for mad monkey sex?" Other times, there was something more, emotions came into play, whether it was because one of us had come too close to dying on a hunt, something had gone wrong in our lives or just something clicked that time we both had felt it, silently acknowledged it and enjoyed it. This time, this moment was about all of that and more. People forget that sex is, at it's root, a celebration of life, a sacred act and that was what this moment was between us. Dean traced the shadows on my skin as they danced and shifted, exploring every single inch of my torso, completely entranced by it.

The physical sensation and sexual energy was there, there was no denying it. I felt it rising and spreading through me but there was no rush, no drive to move forward with the actual act. Watching Dean watch me and get lost in what he saw was more important, more precious. I was content, fulfilled in a way, even if nothing else happened, this was more than enough.

"You're beautiful," he murmured.

I didn't reply, the light was playing along his bare chest and I had gotten as lost in watching him as he was in watching me. My hand slowly crept up along his stomach and swept along the curves of his pec muscles, over his ribs and along his waistline. His eyes closed, his mouth relaxed and opened and a small sigh of pleasure filled the room.

"You're not too bad yourself," I finally managed to say, I felt his stomach muscles dance as he chuckled.

A soft, sneaky grin appeared on his face, "It's only because Sam always forgets to get pie."

"Good thing too, or else you'd have quite the gut."

"Hush you," he gently scolded and ran his hand across my waist, teasing, probing and drifting down across my leg.

"Keep that up and hushing won't be an option," I warned.

A simple, pleasure filled smile rested on his face, he shifted to lay on his side, propping his head up with an arm and rested his legs over mine, fingers still idly tracing across my breasts and stomach. The movements he made were more relaxing than arousing and I felt my eyes start to close, the tension in my arms and legs began to dissipate. I was drifting.

Dean started to hum and softly sing the melody of the Healing Song that I had used to calm him. He didn't try to pronounce the words of course but the melody was enough. Hearing it coming from him, the emotions I had suppressed from the vision slowly started to work their way out of me. They came gently, quietly, as if pulled inch by inch by the notes I heard. The tears came, he brushed them away, soft sobs pressed against my lungs,

"Let it out Coyote, please," he comforted me.

I did as he asked. Once the worst of it had passed, I slowly opened my eyes. He was hovering above me, stroking my hair gently.

Less than a year left, it wasn't long enough. It hit me all at once, my hand shot out, wrapped itself around the back of his neck and pulled down. He didn't fight it, our lips met and there was no stopping or slowing down.

Like a cougar pouncing, strong arms wrapped around me, rolling me over so I was on top of him. I didn't remember taking his jeans off because all I cared about was the feel of his lips on mine, his hands running down my back, holding me, pulling me towards him. The physical met the emotional and became something spiritual which twisted and molded itself into our battle cry that raged against the pain, the horror and the death the Spirits had shown us.

We were still alive and that, in the end was our victory.

We collapsed next to each other, I'd completely lost track of time. Our hands were still entwined and our chests heaving. Spiritual mad monkey sex was much more intense than I would have thought.

"We're all sweaty again," he pointed out.

"Don't care," I barely murmured, I was drained in more ways than one. I found the water pitcher, refilled both of our glasses and downed mine in a few gulps. "Sleep, need sleep."

He curled around me, pulled me close and the last thing I remember was him humming in my ear.

I woke up, light was peeking around the edges of my curtains. My eyes felt dry and sticky, I wasn't drinking anything but water today, I could tell. I peered at my clock which assured me that it was indeed daylight and close to mid-afternoon at that. Dean was still asleep. I needed a shower and food. I got out of bed and walked by my spare room on the way to the bathroom when a thought hit me. I had to make something for him. I knew exactly what, how and I had everything I needed to do it.

"Shower, eat, craft." I told myself. I took care of the first two in record time and then went into my spare bedroom which also houses my Sacred Space and went to work.

I dug through my scraps of leather, found a dark tan piece and started tracing a circle around the edges that would serve as my guide for cutting. Once I finished that I pulled out my rock case. I had found large wooden antique jewelry box that more compartments that I could count in it. I used it to store rocks and gems I would pick up on my hikes along with pre-prepared herb packets and random other items. I didn't even have to sort through things, my hands went right to what I needed, the rocks and herbs seemed to call to me, letting me know that this was their chosen purpose. Once I was done with my rock case I located my beading supplies, which were less well organized and eventually found the small pendant I wanted. I had just finished tying the bundle up, attaching the pendant and whispering a small blessing over it when I heard a knock at my door.

On my way down the stairs I looked into my room and Dean was still asleep, I close the door and answered the door. It was Sam, he looked like hell. I instantly felt guilty, I'd be so wrapped up with Dean I hadn't even checked on him.

"Sam! I..."

"Is he here?" He stopped me, face tense, shoulders tight and shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"Yeah, I'll go wake him up."

Before I could even turn away he grabbed hold of my arm. "No. We need to talk. I need you to help me with something. Grab some shoes, walk with me." Sam's hazel eyes had turned a deep brown, and what I saw lurking behind them made me feel like prey. I remembered how he looked drinking blood in the vision, he had craved it, needed it.

I took a deep, calming breath and moved much slower than I normally would. "Sure, hold on."

I keep some sandals by the front door, I slid my feet into them, stepped out and shut the door behind me.

I had to lengthen my stride to keep up with the fast pace he set, "Sam? I should have checked on you, I'm sorry."

He shook his head, "It's fine. Rising Dove stayed with me. I'm not here about me."

"It's not fine," I disagreed.

He stopped moving and stood completely still, "It seems that when the Spirits used you to talk to us, it linked Dean's and my visions together," he said, his tone was rigidly controlled. "I saw Dean, on that rack. What I saw about me, it's not important right now." He exhaled sharply and started moving again. I chose to stay silent and follow.

"I can't stay here," he continued, "I called Bobby and told him I needed him to meet me somewhere between his place and here. I know I am not up to a five hour drive yet." He took another breath and finally looked at me. The predator that had been in his eyes at the beginning of our walk had faded, he looked more like Sam should, concerned about his brother.

"You can stay at my place as long as you need Sam, you know that," I offered.

"No, I can't. I, I don't belong here. I can't explain it. I need space, so does Dean and neither of us will get it if he comes with me."

"Sam, look around." I gestured at the wide open plains around us, "There's plenty of space."

"You're not getting it!" He snarled.

I stopped and grabbed his arm which he almost wrenched out of my grip before stopping himself. "Look at me."

Slowly his head turned and such disgust and self loathing was on his face, "What is this taint that you won't talk about? What happened?" I asked, I wanted to help him somehow.

"For the last time, Coyote, it's not important right now. I'm not the one going to Hell, at least not yet. You have to help me convince Dean to stay for a few days. I need the keys to the Impala and he has them."

"Sam, slow down. I haven't caught up on whatever it is that is going on with you two. If you're not going to fill me in on the details at least explain your reasoning here."

The disgust slowly slid off of his face, he brushed his hair back and looked over my head and out across the plains. "The first thing Dean will do when he wakes up is want to check on me, he'll worry about how I am, what I saw, what's wrong with me. If we leave right now he's going to push down what he saw, what he's afraid of. He'll start drinking more than he already is, have even more nightmares and become more and more unhinged. My issues will allow him to ignore his own and he can't right now, he has to stop for a few days. We've been either on the road or killing something with no breaks for a little over two years now. I don't want to explain why right now. He's past the edge, way past it." Hazel eyes shifted from the plains back to my face, "He need this, needs you, needs to stop, to remember something other than his idiotic, stupid feelings of failing everyone in his life."

"Needs me?" That surprised me, "We haven't seen each other in years and even when we were spending time together we weren't in any special type of relationship."

Sam shook his head, a tender, rueful smile crossed his face, "You may want to check those Shaman instincts of yours. You mean something to him. He talks about you from time to time, not just about the sex. He'll see something and mention a phrase you said or something you guys did. Just about every time we see a coyote while we're driving he gets this small, weird smile on his face. He usually tries to hide it but I see it. Dean doesn't drive hours out of his way to meet just any woman."

I wasn't sure how to process that and it sure as hell was going to make saying goodbye that much harder. "Sam, I, well, shit."

He placed his hand on my shoulder, "Look, Dean has never and will never have what I got to have with someone I loved more than life itself back in college. We both know why. What you guys had, and judging by the fact that he came to you last night, still have, is probably the closest thing to an actual relationship with someone he'll ever have. He needs that right now. He doesn't need to be a big brother, caring about everyone else. He needs to be cared for. He won't let me do that but he will let you."

I ran through the last two days in my mind and all the inconsistencies in Dean's behavior made sense. The edginess, the over protectiveness, the fear fueled anger, it all tracked with what Sam was saying. The moment I first saw him standing in the dark in my room, silently pleading for help. That was Dean in a totally unguarded moment, that was him baring his soul, dropping his masks and admitting that he needed help. I placed my hand on top of the one Sam had on my shoulder, "He needs to remember he's still alive," I said.

He nodded, "Not just that, but what life is. Please."

"The hits just keep coming don't they?" I asked.

That got a small chuckle out of Sam, "Welcome to Winchester life."

"Ok, I'll do it. Maybe after this I can bring about world peace. I think it'd be easier than what we've dealt with in the past two days."

Sam wrapped his arms around me, laughing, "Probably."

He let go and we turned to head back to my house, "Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;" I quoted from Shakespeare's Henry V.

"But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger;
Stiffen the sinews,summon up the blood," Sam replied.

I hadn't wanted to dwell and the pillars of light and dark that were hammering the ground around the brothers in the vision. "War?"

He just nodded, we walked the rest of the way in silence.

"Crap," Sam said as we walked up the stairs to my porch.

"What?"

"Dean's up. I saw him in the window watching us walk up. He's already dressed."

"Let me handle this," Now that I knew how things stood between them I knew that Dean would automatically object to anything Sam said. We opened the door and walked in, Dean was pulling his boots on.

"Where do you think you're going?" I asked.

"We should probably get on the road," he said and looked at Sam, "You ok Sammy?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah, Rising Dove helped me out. Dean.."

I shot a look at Sam who shut up. "Sam didn't come to get you out of bed and on the road. He's going to stay with Bobby a few days, you're staying here."

Dean's face hardened, he stood but had to reach out and steady himself using the back of the couch. "Who decided this?"

"Sam did. He needs space and you need downtime."

"I'm fine," he countered.

I didn't give him any warning. I just walked up to him and threw a three quarter speed punch at his face. He failed to get his hands up in time to block it and my hand stopped less then an inch from his nose.

"You're not fine." Then to prove my point I took his hands and wrenched his arms apart in a spread eagle position, mimicking how he had been shackled to the rack. A cold sweat broke out on his face, he started shaking again and his breathing became harsh and broken. I let his arms drop and held him tightly.

"Stay here, please," I whispered in his ear, "Sam will be with Bobby, he'll be fine. Let me help you." I had to brace my legs to take the sudden shift in weight caused by him leaning into me. I felt his knees start to buckle but he caught himself in time. Once he was stable enough he pulled out of my embrace and looked past me at Sam, a silent question on his face.

"Dean, please. Stay with her," Sam answered.

I watched as Dean struggled with it. "Are you sure you'll be ok?"

"I'll be with Bobby. I'll be fine. Let someone help you for once."

Dean reached into his pocket and threw the keys at Sam.

"Thank you," Sam said. I could hear the relief in his voice.

Dean stood there, unsure what to do next.

"You, back to bed," I told Dean with a slight push towards the stairs. "I'll bring you some food. Sam, don't leave yet. I want to give you some things."

Dean walked up the stairs, looked back at Sam, then went into my room and shut the door.

"I like how you handle things," Sam congratulated me.

"You have to speak in ways people will understand. You. Sit. You're not much better off than he is."