Devon moaned softly as she moved her head, still resting on Dean's shoulder. His arms tightened slightly around her, then his eyes snapped open at the noise she made. "Devon? Are you okay?"

"What the hell happened to me, Dean?" she asked softly, trying to sit up, grimacing with pain at every movement. "I can hardly move, everything hurts." Dean helped her into a sitting position, and she stayed in the center of the bed, her legs crossed and her arms held against her body. "You promised to tell me, Dean." She looked up at him, and he cringed at the bruises on her face, her swollen eye and her split lip. "What?!" she demanded, tears springing to her eyes as he turned away from her.

"I'm sorry. I'm the reason you're so messed up. I'm sorry, Devon."

"What?" A tear overflowed and made a track down her confused face.

"You were possessed. I came back from taking Nicole's uncle home, and you were possessed by a demon. We had to fight you off and exorcise it. And that's how you got so beat up. I'm sorry."

Devon pushed herself to the edge of the bed and stood, wincing with pain, forcing herself to take step after step until she reached the vanity and mirror by the bathroom. She let her tears spill freely as she looked at her image, almost unrecognizable at that moment. Dean stood in the doorway as she stared at herself, then turned to him, panic in her eyes. "There was a demon inside me? Oh my God, Dean! It was in me?!"

He stepped closer to her and pulled her into his arms, holding her as she sobbed and shook, hushing her gently as he tried to calm her. Finally, he was able to lead her back to the bed, helping her sit down as he knelt in front of her and took her face in his hands, kissing her carefully. "Devon, it's gone. I saw it leave. You're safe."

"How can I ever be safe if something like that can get inside me without me even knowing? How is that safe, Dean?"

"We're gonna take care of that, I promise. You've seen my tattoo?" Devon nodded slowly, still shaken by the effects of her near hysteria. "Well, we'll get you one just like it. It's an anti-possession symbol, they can't get past it. Then you'll be safe, baby."

She stared into the depths of his green eyes, reading only sincerity there, and she leaned forward, letting him surround her in his arms once again. "Why? Why did it possess me?"

"It was trying to stop us from going to Mama Lesage. I hope that means that she was able to help Sam. That bitch really wanted us to leave."

"Did you kill it?"

Dean raised his head, looking into her eyes. "No. We would've had to kill you. That wasn't happening." She looked at him, fear still lurking in her eyes, and Dean drew her close again. "Listen. How about I run you a hot bath, you can soak in it for a while. You'll feel better." He kissed her cheek and then, very carefully, her lips. She nodded, and he rose to start the water. Devon buried her face in her hands, overwhelmed with the idea of that evil thing inside her, wishing she could scrub the inside as well as the outside. She frowned a little, wondering how Sam was doing, and reached for her cell phone.

"Nicole? How is Sam? Is he all right?" Dean stood in the doorway listening as Devon waited for Nicole to finish talking, a frown of concern on his face. "How high? Maybe he should get in a cool bath, or shower, try and keep it down a little. Do you want me to send Dean over? Okay. Okay, we'll be over in a little while. Please call us if it gets worse, Nicole, okay? Bye." She looked up at Dean as she spoke. "Nicole says the fever has started. She doesn't think it's too bad yet, but she's giving him aspirin and sponging him down to keep it under control." Dean was still frowning, and she tried to reassure him. "Nicole's taking good care of him, Dean."

After a brief hesitation, he nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure she is. Let's get you in the tub, while the water's still hot." He came to help her walk to the bathroom, guilt eating at him as he watched the misery each step caused her. He turned her towards him, reaching for the hem of her t-shirt and lifting it gently, helping her get her arms out and pulling it carefully over her head. She pulled her panties down a ways, then he bent to slip them the rest of the way down her legs, lifting each foot to remove them. He leaned in, placing a soft kiss on her belly, then stood, taking her hands to help her get into the tub. "Is the temperature okay? It's not too hot?" he asked as he helped her sit down, and she shook her head as she leaned back on the towel he had placed over the back of the tub. She slid down just a little, getting as much of her body under the soothing hot water as was possible, closing her eyes with a sigh. Dean turned his back, angry at himself for his body's reaction to seeing her like that. He had beat her body up to the point she could barely walk, and now he wished he could climb into the tub with her. "I'm going out here and make some coffee. Yell if you want me, okay?"

He left the room, trying to focus on making coffee, getting dressed and straightening the room and the bed. He poured a cup for himself, then one for Devon, and carried them into the bathroom. "Coffee?"

"Mmm, yes! It smells heavenly," she answered, sitting up a little straighter and taking the styrofoam cup from him. "Thank you, Dean." She looked at him, smiling slightly, careful of her swollen lip. She sipped at the hot coffee, inhaling the aroma and savoring it, an almost sensual look on her face, making Dean smile.

"Wow. If coffee gets that reaction, I'll make it for you every morning." A soft giggle escaped her lips, and his smile broadened. "Feeling better?"

"This does help, thanks. It's soaking some of the aches and pains away." Dean sat on the floor near the tub, and they drank their coffee together in companionable silence for a few minutes. Then Devon handed Dean her almost empty cup as she reached for the small bottle of shampoo. She sat upright, wincing a little, then looked at Dean with slight distress on her face. "How am I going to wash my hair like this?"

Dean smiled and stood up. "Just wait a minute. I'll be right back." He left, soon returning with another cup, kneeling once again at the side of the tub. "Close your eyes." He dipped cupful after cupful of water from the tub, pouring them carefully over her hair as she let her head rest back on his other hand. Then he took the shampoo and squeezed it into his hand, lathering her hair, working the suds through the wet strands as Devon practically purred under his hands. "You like that?" he asked, and she sighed softly in answer. He took his time, letting her enjoy it to the fullest, then rinsed her hair thoroughly and laid her back onto the towel again. "Need me to wash anything else?" he asked, with a sexy lilt to his voice that made her want to pull him into the water with her.

"You're trying to kill me, aren't you?" she asked as he leaned over to kiss her softly, and she flinched a little at the twinge of pain from her split lip. "I hate it that I can't kiss you," she whispered, and he put his hand on her face, his thumb gently caressing her jaw for a moment, then he stood.

"Be right back," he said, leaving the room. She could hear him digging around through one of their bags, and he was back after only a few seconds, holding her jasmine-scented body wash in his hand, grabbing a washcloth from the shelf. Then he was on his knees next to her again, and her heart was already pounding at the anticipation of what was coming next. He put a hand on her shoulder, helping her sit up straighter, then lathered the cloth and began washing her back gently, careful of the bruises there. He stopped for a moment, and Devon looked at him. His jaw was working, his eyes full of guilt before he closed them, and she reached out, putting her hand on his arm.

"Dean...you saved my life. Please, please don't look like that. You had to get that evil thing out of me, and you had to keep it from hurting someone." His eyes opened to her quiet pleading, and he sat back on his heels, taking hold of her hand.

"It kills me to see the damage I did, Devon. I should have gotten you that tattoo right away. I should have protected you better."

"Everything is not your responsibility, Dean." She squeezed his hand, and he sat there a minute longer, then leaned in to place a gentle kiss at the corner of her mouth. He went back to his task, rinsing the soap from her back and laying her carefully back against the towel behind her. She closed her eyes as his hands guided the soft, soapy cloth over her wet skin, across her shoulders, down her arms, over her breasts, and she sighed softly as his hands moved beneath the water, his touch causing a small moan deep in her throat. "Dean," she sighed, and then he was rinsing the later from her body as she laid there, his hands gliding over her slick skin, then reaching for her hand.

"Come on, the water's getting cold," he said, his voice a little strained, as he helped her stand, wrapping a large towel around her body and helping her out of the tub. He aided her in drying herself off, and she dropped the towel to the floor, sliding her arms around him, feeling him hard against her as she pressed herself close to him. She reached down and touched the bulge in his jeans, and he closed his eyes, then stepped back from her, turning away. "This wasn't about that, Devon. I'm sorry, I didn't..."

"Dean," she stopped him, putting a hand on his arm. "I know it wasn't. But that doesn't mean it can't end that way, does it?"

He turned back, pulling her into his arms. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't." She was gazing up at him with complete trust in her eyes, and he resisted for only a moment before bending to pick her up into his arms and carry her to the bed. He laid her gently down and sat next to her, his lips finding her throat, his head spinning from the taste and fragrance of her soft, jasmine-scented skin. He stood, quickly shedding his clothes, and climbed into bed with her, his lips finding the spot where he had left off, then kissing his way across her shoulder, down her arm to her fingertips. He turned her hand over, kissing the palm, his tongue tickling it briefly before he moved to the other arm.

As he kissed his way over her body, he let his hand trail down her belly and between her thighs. She shivered at his touch, then arched her back, gasping as his fingers found their way home and his tongue teased at her breast. "Dean..." she whispered, almost writhing on the bed as he drove her to the brink. She could feel him, hot and hard, pressing against her leg, and she moaned his name again. "Dean...please..."

He raised his head, and she shuddered, sighing, as he removed his fingers and kissed her neck. "I'm afraid I'll hurt you, Devon," he breathed, "you're so bruised up, I..."

She threw her arms around his neck then, kissing him, ignoring the pain from her injured lip. "You are not going to hurt me. Now get your ass up here before I..."

Before she could finish her sentence, he was above her, pushing slowly inside her, and she cried out softly, already on the edge, trembling as he filled her. As he pulled back, he lowered his head and kissed her neck, biting her gently then kissing her again as she fought for breath. He pushed himself deep inside her again, watching her head roll from side to side, her eyes closed, her lips parted. He bent to touch his lips to hers, careful of her injury, their tongues tangled together as she responded with fiery passion. Her hands grasped at him, her nails raking gently on the skin of his back and sides as he stroked slowly in and out, still kissing her, drinking in her moans of pleasure. When he couldn't bear it any longer, he moved faster, and harder, and soon was thrusting into her with purpose, and she careened over the edge first, driving him more quickly to his own end. He rolled to his back, carrying her with him, and she laid, weak and spent, on top of him.

He caressed her back lightly, very conscious of the injuries there, and ran his fingers through her hair, kissing her forehead, grasping her hand and holding it to his chest. He ran his hand down her back, over her hip, causing her to shiver, and he gave one last shudder as her muscles contracted against him. "See. You didn't hurt me, Dean," she said softly, kissing his chest, then snuggling against him, contented. "I love you."

Dean went back to running his fingers through her hair for a few moments, then his arms surrounded her and he hugged her close. "I love you, too, Devon."

She nuzzled against his chest, not wanting to look at him. "Dean...you don't have to..." She was interrupted by Dean, who rolled her to her side, turning to look into her eyes, his hand on her face.

"I said I love you, Dev. And I mean it." And he kissed her gently, his hand on her face, before gazing back at her once more. "I love you." Devon's eyes overflowed, and he brushed tears away with his fingers, leaning to kiss her eyelids, tasting her tears on his lips.
Devon snuggled up against him as he pulled the covers up around them. She drifted off easily again, and he cradled her body, wondering how the hell he had gotten himself in so deep.

They had dozed off for an hour or so when Devon's phone rang. She turned to her back away from Dean, reaching for the bedside table, and hit the button. "Nicole?"

"Devon, can y'all come over here? Sam, he's so hot, I don't know what to do..."

"We'll be right over, Nicole. We're coming right now." She hung up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. "Sam is burning up, Dean. Nicole is scared, she wants us there."

Dean was out of bed and dressed quickly, and Devon wasn't far behind. She pocketed her phone, and took Dean's hand as they left the room, locking it behind them. Dean knocked on the door of Sam's room and Nicole opened it almost immediately. "Dean, I've tried everything. He's so hot."

Dean was at his brother's side before Devon had a chance to move. "Sammy, it's me. Sam." He laid a hand on Sam's forehead, then looked up at Devon, worry clouding his eyes. "Devon, run a cool bath, okay? I'll get him in there." She nodded, heading towards the bathroom. "Nicole, can you help me get him undressed? We've gotta get him cooled down."

Together they managed to get Sam's clothes off, and Dean draped his brother's arm around his broad shoulders, lifting him, an arm around his waist to steady him. Sam was barely conscious, and Dean had to mostly lift and drag him to the tub. Nicole stood in the doorway, tears in her eyes, as Devon helped Dean swing Sam's legs over the edge of the bathtub and lower him into the water. His hazel eyes opened a little as he began to shiver violently, and he muttered, "Dean? What's going on?" His teeth were chattering, and Devon turned away, her eyes filling at the helplessness of the normally full-of-life, healthy man.

"It's the fever, Sam. We're just trying to get the fever down a little, okay?" Dean said, sponging the cool water over Sam's body, and Sam nodded, shaking with cold.

"I hope this works," he managed to get out, and Dean nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, me too, man."

They left him in the water as long as they dared, but finally had to help him out. Nicole brought a towel, helping him dry off as Dean and Devon stepped back into the bedroom. "What do we do, Dean?" Devon asked, reaching for his hand. He absently let her take hold of it, watching Sam as he trembled violently. Nicole led him out of the bathroom, a towel and her arm around his waist, and he collapsed onto the bed. Dean came to his side, putting a hand to his forehead again, then looking up to meet Devon's eyes again. He stood, taking her arm and pulling her with him near the door.

"Devon, I'm going back out and talk to that old woman. There has to be something she can do. She cast the spell, there's got to be a way, and she's gonna tell me." He kissed her forehead and flung the door open, leaving before she could say a word to dissuade him.
He drove like a crazy man through the darkness, Baby eating up the road ahead and spitting it out in clouds of dust behind them as they sped towards Mama Lesage's trailer. He was out of the car almost before it came to a complete stop, launching himself up the steps and banging loudly on the door. "Hey, are you in there? We need your help!"

After what seemed like an eternity to Dean, the blind woman slowly opened the door. "What you want, boy?"

"My brother...the fever is so high, there has to be something you can do!" Dean demanded, angry desperation in his voice.

"Dean Winchester, you speak to me like that? Who you think you are, boy?"

Dean took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "I'm sorry. We need your help. Is there anything you can give me to keep his fever under control? Please." He stared at the old woman, and she finally backed away from the door.

"You come in. I will see what I can do." Dean followed her into the room, his composure hanging by a thread. She turned to him and reached her gnarled hand to touch Dean's face, and he felt almost a surge of electricity enter him through her fingertips. "Ah. You have found your heart. At last." She smiled faintly, then turned away, digging through the vials and pouches on the table in front of her. She turned back, grabbing his hand, and placing a small pouch in his palm. "You mix this powder with water. Give it to him, all of it. He will sleep, for two days. Maybe three. You will not wake him for drink, or for food. Jus' let him sleep. If he does not wake by the end of the third day, you come get me. Now go, give him the powder." Dean hesitated for only a second, then turned to leave, but the old woman stayed him with a hand on his arm, and he turned his head to look at her. "You have found your heart, you guard her well. And your brother, he has found his heart as well, but they do not know it yet. You four, you will fight the evils of this world together."

"You mean...Devon?"

The old woman nodded. "Yes. Devon. She is your heart, Dean Winchester. And you are her heart. That is what I know." She let go of his arm, and he stepped outside, tucking the pouch containing the powder into his pocket. The door closed quietly behind him, and he headed back to the Impala, hoping the old woman's magic would see his brother through his blood-cleansing sickness.