A/N: I don't own anyone other than my OC's, so please don't sue me….Again thanks to all the readers who have been reading and reviewing as the support means a great deal to me!!!

* The last chapter called O Maine was a play on words - Instead of O Canada I changed it to O Maine! The town of Fort Kent is culturally linked to the French Canadian communites across the St John River and the majority speak French and English fluently.

"Brook I don't think you're well enough to head out," Brooklyn spun around with her hands firmly on her hips.

"Dean for the last time I am fine. The morphine killed the migraine and I slept like a rock."

Dean knew the stubbornness that resided in his wife and she wouldn't give up until he relented. But Dean wasn't about to give up.

"Brook you were looking like you were on Death's doorstep last night and I don't…."

"Don't what Dean? Don't want me to get hurt? In case you forgot I have an expiration date tattooed on my ass now compliments of Damon and I am not going down quietly. I am going out there and taking out as many evil sons of bitches as I can starting with that bitch Lilith!"

"No Brook! You are not going. This is dangerous."

"Oh like that hasn't bothered you before. Just be honest and say it Dean."

"Fine I will! You have less than a year and I will be damned if anything happens to you!" Dean was shaking all over as he exploded at Brooklyn. Brooklyn held her ground but it didn't stop her bottom lip and chin from trembling from the shock and hurt.

"Brook listen I…."

"No just go with Sam. I'll stay here," she sat down on the bed and numbly opened Sam's laptop.

"I'll just do some research. Go," her voice turned harder.

"Brook wait…."

"Just go Dean!" Brooklyn turned and wiped away the tears.

Dean finished getting ready. He slid the jacket over his shoulders and adjusted the tie. He looked in the mirror seeing her on the bed shaking as she choked back the tears and soft sobs. Why couldn't she understand?

Looking over his shoulder one last time, Dean stepped out the door.

"Dean?" Sam snapped his fingers. The elder Winchester shook his head and blinked his eyes.

"Dean are you alright? You look like a puppy that was kicked. Did something happen between you and Brook?"

"I don't wanna talk about it. There it is," Dean eased the Impala in the three space lot and killed the engine.

The single row apartment building was modest and clean as they walked up the sidewalk to apartment 4.

David Panetierre answered the door with a weary suspicious look in his eyes. The two men standing at his door looked like something out of the X-Files.

"David Panetierre?" The taller man asked.

"Perhaps, what do you need with him?" The hunter whipped out their false badges.

"I'm Agent Tyler and this is Agent Perry and we're with the FBI. We are trying to locate an artifact that was stolen in the last few weeks and we have reason to believe that it may be here as the last person to see it was one Jacques Panetierre, your grandfather."

"Now what did he do?"

Dean and Sam looked at one another with bewildered expressions.

"Is your grandfather here?" Sam asked the younger man.

"Yeah he is," David sighed.

"May we speak to him?" Dean asked.

"Hold on," David turned and hollered over his shoulder. Sam heard the distinct tones of French.

"Dean do you speak French?" Dean raised an eyebrow and shook his head.

"No but Brook does," The hunter remembered his wife could speak 4 languages fluently, French being one.

"My grandfather says you can come in," David held the door open allowing the hunters inside.

Dean looked up seeing a Solomon's key painted in the ceiling.

"Sam look," Sam was intrigued and scanned the room seeing photos hanging neatly on the walls.

"This guy just reeks of hunter," Dean hissed.

The sound of heavy footsteps creaked down the hall coming to a stop in the doorway to the living room. Jacques Panetierre was a tall man with a head full over silver hair and steel blue eyes. His face worn from years of hunting and battle crisscrossed with scars from demons and other creatures. A cane was gripped in his left hand as he walked with a limp.

Jacques eased himself in the chair staring at the two men. He could smell a con a mile away and these two were no federal agents.

"They are not from the government," he spoke in a dialect of French known as Valley French.

David looked over at his grandfather then eyed the two men.

"They are hunters, David."

David nodded.

"What did he say?" Sam asked cautiously.

"He's calling your bluff. You two are hunters. Now what do you really want? And this time don't lie. My grandfather can tell when people are lying."

"Your grandfather was the last one to see the Lucifer's Sword in 1945. We need it to help someone very close to us. Please it's a literal matter of life and death," Dean pleaded with the man. Sam watched as his brother exposed his heart to a complete stranger.

Jacques saw the pain in Dean's emerald pools knowing the man was speaking the truth. The old man had seen that look before as he had been in the young man's shoes once, a very long time ago. He cleared his throat and smiled sadly at Dean.

"When I came here I hid the Sword in a very safe place so no evil could touch it. The power it holds is beyond comprehension. Only the righteous can hold such a instrument of good."

"Hold up, you can speak English?" Sam asked.

Jacques chuckled and nodded his head.

"You are not the only one who can fool another, young man," he chided the brothers.

"Okay we get it Houdini. You pulled the wool over our eyes, ha ha joke's on us," Dean spat out.

"Dean," Sam warned his brother.

Jacques sat back getting comfortable in the chair. A twinkle of amusement lit up his eyes.

"You remind me of myself at that age, so full of vigor and life and willing to do anything for the ones you love. May I see what she looks like?"

Dean pulled out his wallet and handed over the photo of Brooklyn. Jacques took the photo in his wrinkled hand feeling a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"She is beautiful. Her soul shines through in her eyes like the Northern Star."

Dean took the photo back carefully sliding it back in his wallet.

"Of course where are my manners today? My grandson will lead you to where the Sword is hidden."

David stiffened slightly while keeping his eyes on the brothers.

"Grandfather are you sure it is safe?" He asked in French.

"David, remember what I told you about the war that was coming? These two men have been sent by God to stop that from coming to pass."

David nodded and motioned for the two to follow him.

Brooklyn had given up and slammed the laptop in disgust. She knew her mind was wandering back to the fight she had with Dean. She wasn't some damn invalid! She had been hunting since she was 16 and on her own since 18. Dean couldn't keep her sheltered forever she wasn't made of glass damn it!

The hunter stepped back and took a long deep breath as a migraine was knocking at the door. Ever since she made the deal, the migraines had been swift sudden and merciless. Brooklyn was able to hide them at first but last night she couldn't mask the pain, couldn't keep it in hidden from Dean's eyes.

Brooklyn suspected it was part of the deal, the physical pain and torment. She stretched out on the bed and closed her eyes and waited.

Dean held the simple blade in his hand. It wasn't what he was expecting. The hunter had envisioned a badass sword decked out in ornate decorations and intricate designs. But instead he held a blade with very archaic symbols etched on the handle.

"Were you expecting Excalibur?" David snickered and crossed his arms over his chest.

Dean ignored the young man's smart ass comment and ran his hand over the blade. He studied the designs on the handle certain he had seen them before.

"Alright let's roll," Dean put the sword back in the case and tucked it under his arm. Now they had to find Lilith.

The ride back was awkward as Sam wanted to know what had led to the blow up between Brooklyn and Dean but had a pretty good suspicion what it was over. He glanced over at his brother seeing the strained look on Dean's face. The Sword sat between them with a Devil's trap painted on the top and sides keeping the demons out.

"You know Jacques seemed pretty sharp back there."

Dean remained silent.

"You're upset over the blowup with Brook."

Dean remained silent as the Impala returned to the motel. He wasn't about to delve his feelings to Sam about his problems. Who did he think he was? Dr. Phil? No this was something he and Brooklyn needed to resolve alone.

"I'll come get you for dinner," Dean stated flatly before easing out of the Impala and towards the room.

Dean entered the room seeing it was dark and quiet. Slowly he closed the door and allowed his eyes to adjust to the dim surroundings. His eyes focused on the small form on the bed and knew it was Brooklyn. She had fallen asleep waiting for him to return. Dean set the sword in the Devil's trap that was drawn in the floor and continued across the room.

He eased his body down on the bed beside her and gently shook her.

"Brook," he whispered.

Her eyes went wide open as her hand shot beneath the pillow reaching for the gun then training it on the hunter beside her.

"Dean!" Brooklyn cried out in shock. "I almost shot you!"

"When did you start sleeping with a gun under your pillow?"

"Since the deal," she placed it on the night side stand and slowly sat up pulling her knees against her chest.

"I should've known better. Brook I'm sorry," Dean gathered her hands in his own.

"I'm sorry for everything, for blowing up at you and making you cry…."

"Dean please I don't wanna talk about. I'm tired of fighting and arguing and crying…." Dean heard the strained exhaustion in her voice. He shifted closer placing his hands on her knees slowly pulling them away from her chest.

"We do need to talk about this."

"What's there to talk about? I have less than one year before my deal comes due period."

"Brook Sam and I got it. We have Lucifer's Sword."

"That's great Dean, but now we have to find Lilith and who knows where that bitch is hiding."

Dean felt slightly deflated at her sad tone. She was still convinced they wouldn't find Lilith in time. What was he going to have to do to convince her otherwise?

"Brooklyn Addison Ravenwood I am not giving up on you and I will not give up on us! I am going to hunt the bitch down and break that deal once and for all," Dean was holding her face in his hands. The hunter was biting down on his trembling bottom lip.

Without thinking he pulled her in crashing their mouths together in a heated need that couldn't and wouldn't be denied. She resisted at first but quickly melted in his arms as clothing was ripped away from her body. Dean ripped his own clothing off getting caught in the legs of his jeans. He growled in frustration at this slight delay and physically pulled them the rest of the way off.

With nothing between them, he pushed her gently to the bed keeping his mouth locked tight with hers feeling the searing friction between her legs. He felt her body tighten up around him as he thrusted hard inside her. There had been no stimulation or touching but rather they had gone straight to the main course. The sex was hard rough and angry and that suited them just fine.

The angst, grief and despair was purged from their souls as their bodies slammed harshly against the other. Dean pinned Brooklyn's wrists tightly together and locked his legs with hers keeping her pinned between him and the bed as he continued roughly thrusting inside her. He grunted and growled as he nipped at his lover's neck and collarbone. Brooklyn merely hissed and arched her lower back up and off the bed needing him deeper inside. Dean felt her hips collide with his as they cried out in tandem in anguished cries of release.

Brooklyn felt her heart beating against her chest and heard the rapid short panting escaping her mouth. Beads of sweat coated their bodies and matted their hair upon their foreheads. Dean released her wrists.

"Brook?" Came the voice lined with hints of concern.

"I'm fine Dean," She exhaled loudly.

Dean looked up at her noticing the turbulence gone from her eyes replaced with a gentle hue of slate.

"Brook I don't know what came over me…." Brooklyn placed a finger to his lips silencing him.

"Dean you don't need to explain anything to me."

"But the sex it was so hard and rough…."

"And something that was needed badly by the both of us. Dean we both had so much tension and anger that the only way we could really purge it was by the rough hard fucking. We didn't hold anything back and as a result our souls were cleansed. I have been harboring this shit for too long and I can't wallow in this pit of self pity and depression any longer. Tomorrow we track that Hell skank down and drive that sword through her black heart."

"That's my girl," Dean laughed and leaned in kissing her but this time sweetly and passionately.

Bout time that boy knocked some sense into her! Next update soon!!!!!!