A/N: I don't own anyone but my OC's….though I wished I owned the guys…*sighs*

A month passed since that traumatic night and Dean was starting to bounce back. He was getting his step and using his ever so colorful vocabulary as they were in Iowa during Magic Week.

Dean woke up curled around Brooklyn as Sam snored heavily on the opposite bed. He brushed back her coppery strands and left a small kiss on her cheek. It had taken her over a month before she finally accepted the rape wasn't her fault. But Dean suspected seeds of doubt lingered in her mind and heart but if it did she didn't bring it up.

Brooklyn rolled over to see Dean wide awake and watching as she slept. His head propped up in one hand while the other traced along her bare shoulder.

"Hey," he whispered kissing her but this time on the lips.

"Hey yourself," she smiled back.

Their naked bodies were concealed by the blankets as Dean had finally been able to lay with her for the first time since that night. Despite his reassurances, Dean had found himself unable to be intimate with Brooklyn to which she fully understood instead telling him when he was ready she would accept him with open arms. That time came when they rolled into Iowa the night before.

Previous night…..

Sam had left leaving the hunters alone. Brooklyn was getting under the covers ready for a much needed rest. The shift in the mattress told her Dean was slipping in between the sheets eager to join her in bed. He kissed her neck letting his lips stay against her skin. Brooklyn remained in place wondering if this was a sign that he was ready. Her breath was hitched when his lips moved lower leaving an invisible trail across her collarbone. The thin tank top she was wearing gathered in his hands coming up and over her head.

"Dean are you sure?" Her heart started to pound. Dean kissed her deeply pushing his tongue into her waiting mouth. Brooklyn responded back running her tongue along his caressing it before he broke the heated contact.

"I'm ready…..Please help me heal…." Brooklyn smiled and nodded her head letting him take control and remove the thin garment from her hips. Dean covered her body with his and together their bodies became one. Brooklyn moaned and arched her back realizing how greatly she missed Dean's body pressed so tightly against hers. The hunter kissed her full swollen lips feeling his soul healing completely as he continued making love to her. The images of that horrid night were pushed away, locked up never to be thought of again. Instead, images of the love and best times he had with his hunter.

"God I love you Brook," he whispered in her ear. His affirmation did more than make her heart swell; it also healed the rift within her soul and heart. Dean held her tight when she cried his name in release. A month of pent up frustration and pain was washed away with the powerful release of her body. It felt as if a veil had been lifted from both only making the encounter much more meaningful.

Dean increased his thrusting letting his body dictate the rhythm while the tightening continued deep in the recesses of his body and fanning through every inch of his being. Sweat beaded and dropped from his face and body the faster he thrusted. His breathing hastened becoming hitched and labored as he nipped at her neck and shoulder knowing he was getting close.

"Brook…..I'm….." he didn't finish as his body shuddered and exploded in her spilling his release deep within his lover's body coating her walls, marking her as his.

"Mine," he growled in her ear.

"Yours…." She held his face in her hands letting him see the certainty in her beautiful stormy depths. Dean nodded kissing her again before resting his body on hers. His head nestled against her shoulder allowing Brooklyn to kiss the top of his head and run her fingers through his short hair. He had given his all though he wished it had lasted just a little longer. But Brooklyn didn't care, what mattered to the hunter was him in her arms at ease being naked and tightly bound.

Dean draped an arm and leg over her body feeling her get comfortable before she slowly started drifting off to sleep. He watched the faint smile cross her lips knowing she was content in more ways than one.

Present time….

The hunters crept into the bathroom anxious to get a hot steamy shower before Sam used all the hot water.

The steam filled the tiny room as they stood beneath the strong stream looking into one another's eyes. Dean had his hands in her wet hair letting it fall through his fingers while Brooklyn's hands were resting on his waist.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"For what Dean?" she looked curiously in his eyes.

"Being there for me and helping me through everything."

"Dean…you helped me as well…." She smiled up at him.

"Brook, I would never ever blame you for that. I saw the pain you endured and knew right then and there you were hurting as bad as I."

Brooklyn nodded and rested against his chiseled body. Dean secured his arms around her back slowly running his hands up and down her back. He treasured the moment they shared in the small steamy shower knowing stolen moments like this would continue to grow more and more sparse.

Sam was at his laptop when the couple stepped out. They looked refreshed and healthier than from the last several weeks. The younger brother couldn't but help to smile at them as the smiles plastered on their faces was a sign they were finally able to move on.

"You two save me any hot water?" Sam stood grabbing his bag and clothes.

"Unlike you Samantha, we don't languish in the shower," Dean smirked at his brother. Sam rolled his eyes and went straight for the bathroom closing the door behind him.

"So what's the case?" Brooklyn dried her hair while Dean took over the laptop.

"Well a magician named Vance drops dead in front of the Excalibur hotel with ten perfectly spaced stab wounds without a single tear or hole in his shirt."

Brooklyn stopped towel drying her hair and looked up, "Sounds like something right up our alley then huh?"

"Yep," Dean continued reading the article noticing there was a convention in town of magicians. He knew Brooklyn thought the so called magicians of today such as Criss Angel were frauds and more pomp than substance. Dean shared the same sentiments as she.

The crowd had gathered around a man with black hair leather pants and black shirt. In his hands was a deck of cards which he was shuffling around. The trio approached as he was speaking to the crowd.

"This isn't a trick okay? I don't do tricks…This is a demonstration…. About demons angels and love."

Brooklyn felt her disgust climb when this asshat spoke of demons and angels. Dean took her hand squeezing it tight.

"What a douche bag," Dean muttered. Brooklyn tightened her hand in agreement with him. Sam just watched the guy as he continued on.

"All that stuff, mixed up in my head," the cameras focused in on him.

"That's Jeb Dexter," Sam pointed to the man. Brooklyn and Dean flashed odd expressions at him. Sam shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't even wanna know how you know that," Dean shook his head in shame.

"He's famous….kinda," Sam answered.

"In what Douchbaggery?" Brooklyn was thoroughly ill with the charade this guy was pulling.

"But whatever happens – no matter how mess up it gets, don't touch me okay?" Jeb waved his hands around, "For your own safety."

Brooklyn rolled her eyes as he gasped and let his eyes roll back into his head as he yelled, "Go back to Hell, demon!"

Dean saw Brooklyn was very close to clocking the guy when he said that. If this asshole only knew how close he was to coming face to face with someone tainted by demon's blood. He wrapped an around around her waist keeping her back before the guy got his ass handed to him on national television, which wouldn't entirely be a bad thing either. Jeb flung the cards against a window until only one remained plastered to the glass.

"Is this your card?" he held up the card and the woman nodded her head and the audience applauded. Brooklyn jerked free from Dean and stormed off tired of watching the big load of crap. Dean stopped her and turned her around.

"Brook I know that was stupid."

"Are you kidding me Dean? A fake demonic possession?!?!? I can't believe people actually fall for that shit," she argued.

"It's not all crap," Sam tried to argue but Brooklyn cut him off.

"What part of that was not a steaming pile of BS?" She gestured towards the Goth reject.

"Okay, that was crap but that's not all magicians," Sam countered, "It takes skill."

Dean looked confused for a moment the knowingly smiled at his brother. Brooklyn wondered what the exchange was all about.

"Oh I forgot you were actually into this stuff weren't you? You had like a deck of cards and a wand…"

"It was just a phase," Sam defended himself. Brooklyn snorted as she fought to suppress a laugh.

"Well it bugs me," Dean spat.

"Actually I find it down right offensive myself. Playing with demons and magic like that…when the real thing will kill you without a second thought," Brooklyn's tone turned serious.

Dean knew she was referring to herself and Tom along with every single witch and warlock they had encountered. He sighed and wrapped and arm protectively across her shoulder leading her towards the nearest diner.

Brooklyn went to question Vance's assistant as she packed her things.

"So, did you boss have any enemies that you were aware of?" She asked.

"Vance had plenty of enemies," she explained while pulling a multicolored scarf out of her bag.

"Really how so?" Brooklyn watched as she continued sorting through things.

"Stage effects…techniques….anything he could get his hands on," the assistant lifted up a sheet revealing a rabbit beneath.

"Would that be enough to get him killed?"

"These guys take this stuff pretty seriously," she held the rabbit up. Brooklyn nodded before moving on.

"Did you find anything in Vance's things that looked out of place?" The assistant put the rabbit down and handed over a card.

"This," Brooklyn examined the card paying attention to the drawing of the man with multiple swords run through him.

"I'm guessing this didn't belong to Vance?"

"No, he hated card tricks. Never wanted them around let alone near his precious cape."

"So Brook what did you find?" Dean tossed back the rest of his beer. Brooklyn presented the card to the guys. Dean examined the tarot card then passed it over to Sam.

"Well any guesses?" Brooklyn took a drink of her malt. After the crazy ass month they went through, she deserved a treat.

"Maybe some kind of curse?" Sam suggested.

"Could be," Dean shrugged as the server set down their food.

"I can snoop around the theater see what anyone knows," Dean said between bites of burger.

"Good idea" Sam second the idea. Brooklyn just ate in silence. Her thoughts had wandered to her father and Castiel's promise to find him. She wondered how he was faring given she had not seen her angelic guardian in about two weeks.

Dean approached the group of older men as they watched Jeb Dexter set up for his next gig.

"What a douche bag," the man named Vernon muttered.

"I couldn't agree more," Dean sat down beside them and pulled the card from his jacket.

"This look familiar to you?" Vernon and his friend stared at it.

"Should it be?" Vernon asked.

"I heard you used tarot cards in your act," Dean went on to explain.

"His act actually," the man pointed at Vernon, "And that was a long time ago. Vernon hasn't touched a deck in years."

"Charlie's right, I don't do that anymore since now people like this garbage over the real thing."

"You know someone who might use them right now?" Dean asked.

"Well there was a guy, down on Bleeker Street," Vernon answered.

"Oh yeah! He pedals that kind of specialty stuff," Charlie chimed in.

"Did he have a problem with Vance?" Dean felt he was getting somewhere.

"As a matter of fact Vance crossed him bout a year ago. Probably cost about fifty grand in royalties," Vernon replied.

"Do you know the exact address?" Dean asked.

"426 Bleeker," Vernon quickly added.

"Ask for Chief," Charlie piped up.

"Thanks," Dean got up and headed out.

Dean found himself walking down a dark street searching for 426. He spotted the rusted numbers and knocked on the door. The hunter observed the bars across the entryway which struck him as odd. The door slot opened and a man stared at Dean watching his movement.

"I'm uh-here to see Chief?" Dean asked.

The door swung open and the man let Dean in then led him down a flight of stairs.

"Stay here and don't touch anything," Dean waited for the man to return. He wondered if he was in the right place as he looked around the dark room. Suddenly a door swung open and loud music filled the empty room as a large man wearing leather and carrying a whip stepped out.

"You are really gonna get it tonight big boy," the man grinned from ear to ear.

"There's been a misunderstanding. I think I've been had," Dean laughed nervously.

"Oh you ain't been had – not till you been had by the Chief," the man responded. Dean slowly backed towards the stairs as Chief added one more thing.

"Oh, and before we get started, what's your safe word?"

Dean gagged a little and fled up the stairs and towards the hotel. If anyone was gonna whip or spank his ass it was a certain red haired hunter.

Hmm....I am debating putting a little spanking in there somewhere.....