Hey, readers, sorry it took so long to update this time. I had writer's block and family drama, so I chalk it all up to that.

Anyway, I'm putting a warning on this one for naughty stuff. If you don't mind reading that, then you're fine.

Dealing with the Truth
Part Two

I was standing knee-deep in something red and thick and the problem was that I was sinking slowly down into it. Like quicksand. Only this, I soon realized, was blood.

What was I doing standing in blood? And where was it coming from?

I looked around and realized it wasn't coming from anywhere, exactly, but it was all around me, the blood was. And I was alone. And I do mean alone, alone, alone. No Dean. No Sam. Jack wasn't even there. And there was nothing there either. Nothing I could pull myself out with. Everything was red as far as the eye could see.

"Do you know why you're here?"

That was a vaguely familiar voice, and when I looked to see who it was, I was surprised to see my mom. She'd sounded different…colder, somehow. That's why I hadn't recognized it right away.

She was floating above the blood, but that wasn't the only thing that was weird, or different. She had a sort of…deep expression on her face. Like she had the answers to every question in the universe. Her eyes were not intelligent, exactly, but wise. She seemed caring, but also aloof at the same time. She also seemed troubled.

"Mom?"

Okay, so this was definitely a dream. When Mom had come to me before I'd been awake and she'd told me that she wouldn't be seeing me again.

She was…glowing. Golden-white light was surrounding her, there were sparks of blue in there too. It kinda reminded me of the time light had come out of me. Or what I remembered of it; I had passed out soon after the light had started. But the light didn't fit her mood at all. She looked sad.

"Yes, it's me." She sighed. "I'm sorry."

She sounded mechanical. I wasn't sure, but I didn't think this was my mom. My memory of her was way different than this. She was using this language as if it wasn't her native tongue; it was like she had to use it to communicate but wasn't familiar with it. I didn't like it, it was making me uncomfortable.

"Sorry?" I asked, remembering what she'd said. "What for?"

She looked down at the river of blood. She didn't seem surprised that it was there; it didn't seem to bother her at all. "You won't be able to save him." She sounded pained, but distantly so, like she didn't understand the feeling, but she was actually experiencing it. "When the time comes," she looked straight at me, almost through to my very soul, "you won't be able to save him."

"Who?" I whispered. "What are you-" I broke off, realizing I could see something moving in the blood.

Oh, God. It was a face. It was grotesque, though. Twisted. And now I was waist deep in the never ending river…of blood. This was so wrong.

It didn't occur to me until just then that I shouldn't be able to see through the blood. It was clearer than real blood. Definitely a dream, this was. A creepy, vague dream that I wanted to wake up from now.

"You won't be able to save him," she said again. It sounded so definitive, but it meant nothing to me. She made it sound like everything should be clear from that one statement.

"Save who?"

The twisted face finally made it to the surface, or maybe I was just getting pulled farther under. I tried moving, but that only made me sink faster.

The face was now right next to me. I took a shuddery breath when I realized that the face belonged to Dean.

"Dean?" I looked back up at the glowing figure of my robotic mother. "I can't save Dean? What do you mean?"

"Don't drown," she said, ignoring my question entirely.

Don't drown? What the hell did that mean?

Didn't take long for me to find out, because suddenly I was being yanked under. I didn't even have time to scream. Don't drown, indeed.

I sat straight up, or at least I tried to, but Dean - the real one - was hovering over me, holding me down. So I settled for screaming instead. My legs were thrashing, probably trying to stay afloat from the dream, and I vaguely wondered if I'd kicked him without me knowing.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he soothed. "Whatever it was, was just a dream."

"Blood," I said hoarsely. "Everything was blood. I was drowning in it."

"It was just a dream," he repeated gently.

I looked at him now, making sure I was awake and not talking to the grotesque version I'd seen in the river. I brought my hand up to trace the contours of his face. I used my fingers to travel from his cheek to his bottom lip, and I could tell he was confused; his eyes were questioning. Finally, I let my hand fall back to the bed.

Slowly, he let me sit up. "Are you okay now?"

"Yeah. I just…it was an odd dream. One of the ones that feel real."

"And there was blood?" Dean asked cautiously.

"So much," I practically whispered. "It was…everywhere, and at first I was just standing in it, sinking, and…" I went on to tell him about my mom and what she'd said. Then the whole me being dragged under thing. The only thing I didn't tell him was that I'd seen, like, a horror movie version of his face. If you've ever seen The Ring, that's what it had looked like. Discolored and twisted.

I shivered again, just from thinking about it. I wanted to know what had caused it. Whether it was my subconscious fear of losing Dean, or maybe it was from seeing Ava's fiancé covered in blood, I didn't know, but I definitely didn't like it.

I leaned into Dean's arms and tried to relax, but the dream just kept replaying in my head. I'd never had a dream like that before. I mean, I'd had nightmares about things since I'd become a hunter, but never anything that weird. Or disturbing.

It took me a minute to realize it was still dark, which meant that I couldn't have been asleep for very long, and neither had Dean. We'd only gotten to the motel at around four in the morning, and it wasn't even dawn yet. And I was suddenly glad that Sam had chosen to stay in a different room that night.

"Sorry I woke you up," I whispered.

"It's okay," he reassured me and kissed my head.

"No, it's not. I don't think I'll be able to go back to sleep." I sighed and disentangled myself from his arms. "I'm just gonna go take a shower."

I got off the bed and began gathering my clothes and then glanced over at Dean, who had a forlorn look on his face. I hadn't meant for what I'd said to sound like a dismissal or like I was giving him the brush-off.

I swallowed once, and blushed deeply, thinking of a way that would make it up to him. "Do you, um…wanna join me?" It was said with a shaky voice. No confidence whatsoever.

Dean looked surprised, now, which was better than hurt. "Really?"

I blushed further. "Uh…yeah?" I backtracked a little. "I-if you want to."

He stood up slowly, trying not to appear rushed. "Yeah, sure. Why don't you go on and get in and I'll be in there in a sec."

"Mm-hm."

So I went into the bathroom, leaving the door unlocked. I started the shower, making it warm to the touch but not too hot. Or it didn't feel too hot to me - even though it was warm enough to make steam start pouring through the room.

Anyway, I wasn't in yet; I was gonna wait for Dean to come in. I pulled the shirt I was wearing off. It was his; I usually slept in one of his shirts if we were alone, and I kept to my pajama's if Sam was with us. I dropped it unceremoniously onto the floor and then went for my bra - yes, I slept in it -, but that's the time Dean decided to walk in. He was only in his boxer-briefs, which was pretty par for the course since that's usually what he slept in now.

I had on my usual lacey under-things; the panties were the kind that were like shorts that cupped your butt cheeks. They were the only kind I owned, actually. Anyway, they were navy-blue and they looked great with my naturally tanned skin.

I felt my heartbeat pick up speed as Dean slipped closer to me. I started shaking just a little - nervous energy. Which Dean caught, by the way, and he didn't ask, but I knew he was wondering if I was okay. He was probably thinking the dream was still getting to me.

Instead of answering, I busied myself with my bra, or tried to until dean stopped my hands from moving. I looked up at him and noticed he was giving me one of those 'your too cute for words sometimes' looks. I mean, he wouldn't be caught dead saying that, but that's what his eyes were telling me.

Right. He liked that I was still shy; it amazed him, I think, because not many girls would get embarrassed if they'd already seen their boyfriends naked, but I didn't think that my bashfulness would ever fade. So it was a good thing that he found it fascinating. Or whatever.

I then looked at his hands on mine - oh, yeah, I wore a front clasp bra, because it was more convenient.

"Ya know, if you've changed your mind, it's okay. I won't be mad."

I moved toward him and wrapped my arms around him. That had been what I'd needed to hear. This was my choice; Dean would go by what I wanted.

"No. Stay," I said softly over the sound of the shower running. "It's just…" I stepped away so I could see his face. "…how do we do this?"

He grinned. "Well, first we take off our clothes," he replied teasingly.

I shook my head, smiling and looking at the floor, and felt some of the anxiety leave my body. I went for my bra again, this time actually removing it, and then I went for the panties, letting them slide down my legs to the floor, and stepped out of them.

When I looked up again, Dean was still in his boxer-briefs.

"You're a little overdressed, don't you think?" I asked playfully.

He smiled one of those rare, genuine smiles, and my heart skipped a beat. And then he was naked and we were stepping into the shower. I was the one who was underneath the water at the moment, and it felt so good on my skin.

My back was to Dean and I felt it as he began massaging my shoulders. That, mixed with the water, made the images from my dream fade. When his hands became slicker, I realized he was using soap as well, and his hands slid lower, kneading knots on the way, working the kinks out.

I turned to face him, letting the water wash away the suds, and placed my hands on his chest. I ran them up and around his neck, bringing his mouth down to meet mine.

I nipped at his lower lip, asking for entrance, and moaned into his mouth when he opened to me. Our tongues played lightly against each other until I felt his fingers ghost over the sides of my breasts.

"Dean…" I sighed against his lips, and then pressed harder against him.

I felt him fingering my right breast again, this time closer to the nipple there. He circled it until it pebbled under his touch. It made a slow, enticing warmth start spreading through me. I broke the kiss off and then latched onto his neck and then his collarbone, nibbling gently.

I felt his arousal, hot and hard against my belly, and I ghosted one of my hands down to grasp it, but he stopped me.

"Not yet," he whispered. "I wanna try something if you'll let me."

I pulled my mouth away from his skin and looked into his lust-blown eyes. I was wondering what he had planned. I trusted him, but I didn't know what he was gonna do.

He turned us around slowly so that his back would be under the water, and my back would be against the cold tile of the wall, which made me shiver because of my overheated skin.

Then his mouth descended onto mine again, and his tongue was lapping against mine, all hot and soft velvet, attacking my senses. One of his hands traveled down my body to grip the back of my right thigh, and he lifted it a little so I would know to place it on his leg as high as I could reach.

I moved away from his mouth to breathe, and started looking for something I could hold onto, and, conveniently, there was a little metal rag holder, which I grabbed onto.

And then he slid his hand back up my leg and higher, and glided it over my belly button and it tickled. My muscles fluttered under his soft caress. His other hand was fisted in my hair, pleasantly tight.

If it was possible, he stepped closer, and I could feel his cock rubbing against my stomach, just begging for attention, but he'd told me no, not yet. I wondered what he was waiting for, but I wasn't about to ask, because, I mean, talk about a mood-killer.

Anyway, I moved against him a little, tantalizingly slow, and I heard him hiss out a breath. And back down my body he traveled. I gasped because he started palming me, which just wasn't enough.

"Now?" I asked breathlessly. His eyes met mine and he looked like he sorely wanted to tell me yes, but he didn't.

And then he was running his expect fingers over my clitoris and I moved against him again. I was suddenly glad that his hand was on the back of my head, because it pretty much slammed into the wall.

"Dean," I gasped.

I felt his fingers stop moving and I made a vague sound of protest before I felt a finger glide over my entrance, which I hadn't expected so I froze for a second, as did Dean.

But then I relaxed and pressed against the finger there and he slid it in nice and slow. And really, this was a serious health hazard. I mean, my knees were weak from the aforementioned teasing; I could fall at any moment. And his finger being inside me was a foreign feeling; we'd never done this before. And I'm not saying it was unpleasant, just…unfamiliar.

When he added a second finger he had to go even slower because he was met by some resistance - natural resistance, because it seems that I was extremely, well, tight, down there - but it felt good, too.

"You better catch me if I fall," I whispered. Yes, I had hold of the metal rag holder, but my whole body was shaking, warning me that it might give out at any moment.

I began rocking against his fingers as best as I could, given my current position - standing with one leg hooked around him as high as it would go.

His two fingers were probing gently and he said something along the lines of "God, you're tight," or something to that affect.

"We should forget the shower," I groaned. "We're not getting clean anyway."

He huffed out a laugh and then I felt his fingers curl forward and I let out a pleasure-filled, "Oh!" That was new. He'd hit would could only have been my G-spot. Wow.

I felt his arousal give an insistent little nudge and that's when I grabbed it. I'd learned all of Dean's little quirks and kinks. Like, for instance, to draw it out he liked me to alternate between slow and gentle, and fast and rough. And I knew the slit on the head of his cock was a sensitive spot. He loved when I rubbed my thumb over it. And the last thing - which I found out by accident - I could make him come loudly if I played with his balls - or fondled…whatever you wanna call it. I'd sorta accidentally ran a fingernail lightly over them one time and found that he'd enjoyed it. So I'd tucked that piece of information in my brain to use later, or now.

Anyway, he set the pace by how fast he went, which at the moment wasn't very. But I matched my strokes with his thrusts and I assumed that's what he'd wanted because he didn't tell me any different.

Dean did the curly thing with his fingers again, and I grew even shakier.

"Dean. I need…" I didn't finish speaking because he knew what I needed.

He used his thumb to pressed and rub my clitoris. Then he stopped. "Was that what you needed?" he teased huskily.

"Oh, God, yes. Don't stop!" I pushed against his hand. "Please."

Dean, ever the generous lover, continued. We resumed the rhythm - the thrust and stoke -, and he was the one who came first, tensing against me because I refused to let him go. I didn't care if he got me all dirty; it would come off under that water. I felt his seed, hot on my stomach, and his fingers left me for a minute. I was kinda wondering how he was still standing, thrusting against my hand.

When he looked at me he had a grin set firmly in place; he was smug, it seemed. He was gonna tease me some more, I was sure of it. That was all fine and dandy, but that wasn't what I wanted. I wanted the tension to leave my body, not to just keep building.

"Dean…" I whined weakly. "You're not gonna leave me like this."

His eyes softened, but they were still mischievous. "I should, ya know. For that ice thing."

I bit my lip because I wasn't gonna take that back; it had been funny. And he'd never left me wanting before and he better not start now.

I felt him begin washing me again, mostly the mess he'd just made, and then the water was being turned off, and he was drying me off enough to where I wasn't dripping water on the floor and he was leading me back into the main room and to the bed.

I opened my legs automatically, bending them so my feet were flat on the bed. But he didn't go where I wanted him. And talk about sexual frustration. My goodness, this was a new form of torture.

And then his body was on top of mine and his mouth was on my neck and a hand was on my breast, which were about a handful each. His mouth traveled down, latching onto my right breast, his fingers playing with the other one. I felt as both my nipples became taut little peaks. He tugged with his lips until I sighed his name.

His mouth was continuously suckling, kind of like breastfeeding a baby. Which, bad image there when you're in the middle of doing what we were.

His hand slid lower, shaping the curve of my waist, and my breath came more quickly now that I knew he was finally gonna let me finish. I grabbed onto his shoulders and slid my hands up to his neck, holding on loosely, and arched up into his mouth, which was now working on the other breast. His tongue was flicking over my nipple, and his teeth was gently grazing over it.

When Dean's hand found the hair where my thighs came together he lifted his mouth from me and looked at me wickedly.

"Here?" he teased.

"Lower," I begged.

He moved his hand to my thigh and began running the tips of his fingers from my knee and back down. "Here?"

I shivered. And I felt like crying. I wasn't getting what I wanted. So I reached down and grabbed his hand, surprising him and myself, and placed it over my mound. "There," I said fiercely.

Getting the hint, finally, he began circling my clit again, teasing me until I had to grab onto the bed sheet. I lifted my hips up and started gyrating against his hand.

His fingers stopped working against me, and traveled even further south to my entrance and I felt a finger glide inside me.

I started grinding myself against him and moaned - loudly, might I add - as he added a second digit. I felt his thumb start playing over the bud near the top of my folds gently just enough to further my arousal, not to give me my release.

My hips bucked wildly as I felt his fingers curl and hit the spot we'd discovered earlier.

"Dean!" I was being loud, as usual when it came to this, and I was hoping whoever was next door to us didn't hear. Now that I thought about it, I was pretty sure it was Sam who was beside us.

I saw Dean grin and that just added to my pleasure, because let's face it: Dean is sexy when he's grinning.

Dean's fingers moved faster inside me and I felt myself clench around them, hard, once and then I reached my climax, finally, spasming over and over. My whole body arched off the bed.

I just about screamed. I would have, too, if Dean hadn't covered my mouth with his. As it was, I had the back of his head in a death grip. There was nothing gentle about his kiss. Our teeth were crashing against other, our tongues were fighting against each other. And all the while, his fingers stayed where they'd been…inside me. His thumb was still circling, still…

"Mmpf!" I moaned against his mouth as another orgasm wracked through my body. A smaller one this time, but oh, God.

"Don't stop," I pleaded, breaking away from his mouth, "don't stop." Again, I felt like sobbing. That's how great the pleasure was.

After I hit my third, I sorta went boneless beneath him. I was, um…wow. I loved Dean.

I made a little sound of contentment and wrapped my arms around him, pulling him to me, and then realized we were both completely naked. And, yes, I knew he wouldn't do anything I didn't want him to, but he was a man so this was probably hard for him. So best not to play with fire and all that.

"You okay?" I heard him ask.

"Mm, I will be when I can move again." I mean, I was shaking so I guess you could call that movement, but other than that I couldn't budge an inch.

I could feel him again - he was aroused for the second time in, well, I didn't know how long, but it couldn't have been more than an hour. Oh, well. After I learned how to breathe again it would be my turn to play.

------------- -

We did end up going back to sleep after I took a shower that was actually cleansing, during which Dean used my laptop to see if he could find a case, but…nada. It hadn't been that hard to relax after Dean's whole 'fix everything with orgasms' session. When I woke up I felt a little stupid for even letting the dream get to me.

I mean, everyone has bad dreams once in a while. Granted, mine was really, really bad, but that was all it was, was a dream. It couldn't have been anything else because Dean wasn't in danger, as far as I knew. And he didn't need anybody to save him anyway; he was quite capable of taking care of himself.

I mean, I would totally take care of him if he needed it, but…anyway, best to leave that one alone for now.

When I opened my eyes I realized that Dean wasn't there. There was, however, a note on the pillow beside me.

Basically all it said was that he was in Sam's room. Sam had wanted to talk without waking me, so Dean had double-checked the salt lines and had left. I could come over there if I wanted.

I left the note where it was and got up to go to the bathroom. There was a mirror there and I saw that my hair was a mess. I'd gone to bed with it wet and now it was a curly mass of waves. I tried running my hands through it with no success; it was too tangled. Time to get the brush, I guess.

I was in another one of Dean's shirts and I didn't feel like changing out of it just yet, so I just put on a pair of jeans and let the shirt hang over it; it came down to mid-thigh and was extremely loose.

I was in the middle of going through my morning ritual - brushing my hair, brushing my teeth, washing my face - when someone knocked on the door.

"It's Jack. Open up."

I went to the door, passing by the table - my laptop was still there from Dean using it - and chairs, opened it, and stepped back to let him in, minding the salt lines so I wouldn't mess them up.

"What?" I asked softly.

He shook his head, looking around. "Where's Dean?"

"With Sam." I crossed my arms over my chest. A defensive gesture. "Did you want something?"

"To see if you're okay after everything you've found out."

"Oh," I said, a little self-consciously. "I'm fine, I guess. Or as fine as can be expected."

"Mm-hm. And have you thought anymore about the training I talked to you about?"

I sighed, sitting down on the bed. "No, not really. I know that it needs to be done. If I can control this I can be stronger. I'll be able to kill demons…I think. I haven't ever killed a demon; I've killed a succubus though." At Jack's searching look, I clarified. "Alabama. In the church."

"Did it hurt? You, I mean?"

I shrugged. "The initial pulse, yeah, but I did it again and it didn't hurt."

"And do you know how you did it?"

Well, that was a stupid question. "If I did, I wouldn't need to be trained, would I?"

Jack smirked. "True enough, but there's no need to be a smartass."

"Objectively, I'd say I'm very smart, but it has nothing to do with my ass." I had to try hard to keep a straight face while saying that.

Jack's smirk turned into an amused grin. "That's a good one." Growing serious again, he said, "were there any common factors in the times when you used this ability of yours?" He sounded like a cop or a lawyer trying to get information out of a murder suspect. But I would play for now.

"My emotions, I think. The first time, I was in pain and I lost control because I was freaking out. The second time, I was angry, but I could…"

"Let go?" he suggested.

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. "Yeah." I watched as my dad turned back to the door and reached for the lock, and I stood up quickly. "What're you doing?"

"Relax," he said in that soothing voice of his. "I'm not gonna hurt you. I just wanna try something."

"What?" I said fiercely. "You want me to open the door with my mind?"

"No, I don't think you could do that yet. Although now that you mention it, that would be cool to see. No, I just want to try a simple experiment."

"I don't think I want to be part of your little science project. I'm not some specimen you can run tests on whenever you want to."

I went to go around him and reached for the door, to unlock it, but he grabbed my shoulder to turn me back around.

"Where are you goin', huh?"

"To go see Dean. Now, let me go!" I shrugged him off and actually got the door open this time, but he shut it again. "You had no right to do that."

"Listen to me. You can't control your ability until you know how to call on it." He paused, his face softening. "Well, try."

I sighed. "I don't know how to. Sometimes it happens and sometimes it doesn't happen."

"You said something about your emotions. You were scared or angry. Well, tap into that." And now he sounded like a shrink. "And I really wanna help you do that, Alyson."

"Yeah, well, I don't think it's a good idea. Someone, meaning you, could get hurt, and I don't wanna do this now."

I glared at him defiantly, and he looked almost impatient.

"Will you sit down, please? I told you I'm going gonna hurt you."

"Oh, it's not me I'm worried about," I said scathingly, and then I remembered myself and took a deep, calming breath. "Look, my abilities aren't something to mess around with. I've…I killed someone the first time I lost control, and I don't wanna hurt anyone else."

And damn him for bringing that to the forefront of my mind again. That was one of those things I'd dealt with and buried deep so I wouldn't worry about it again.

"All the more reason to focus then, right?"

And I had to admit he had a point there. So I gave in. "What do you want me to do?"

"Sit down, first of all," he said quietly. He locked the door again. "No distractions."

I briefly wondered if Dean had a key, but then mentally shrugged because it didn't matter; if Jack wouldn't let me open the door, Dean would kick it in.

"Fine," I said , sitting down at the table where my laptop was. "Now what?"

Jack dug into his back pocket and pulled out a pocket knife, and he placed it on the table in front of me. "I want you to clear your mind of everything but the knife. Focus on the knife, focus on making it move."

I looked at him like he was crazy. "How exactly am I supposed to do that?"

"Just relax," he said. "And concentrate."

I breathed in and let it out slowly, and looked at the knife. It was closed, so that was good. How do you concentrate on making something move if you don't think you can do it?

I looked back up at Jack, who was looking at me like you'd stare at an animal in a zoo, or, even worse, a sideshow freak.

"It's not working," I said. "I don't know how to do it."

"You're not trying," he accused.

"Yes, I am!" Sorta, I added silently. "I just don't think I can do it."

"Picture it moving or floating, and then…make it happen." He made it sound so simple.

"Well, you do it, then, if you think it's so easy." I was losing my patience.

"I can't anymore. But that's how I used to take out demons." He hovered over me. "Now, try again." He was being stern now. "If you have to get pissed off, then get pissed off. Now, concentrate."

Pissed off? Oh, I was getting there. Who did he think he was, telling me what to do? He may by my father, but he didn't have the right to dictate any part of my life. He'd given that up when he'd left, no matter the reason.

"Concentrate!" he yelled at me, and the knife flung itself off the table and I stood up again.

"Show's over," I said. "You should leave. Now."

"Wait." He seemed appeased now. "What were you thinking? How did you do it?"

"I was mad at you. I was thinking about how you left, and have no right to tell me what to do." I went to the door and unlocked it. "Now, are you going to leave?" He just stood there. "No? Well, then allow me."

"Running to Dean?" His tone was mocking.

"As a matter of fact, I am," I replied, opening the door, but as before, he reached around me and shut it, refusing to let me leave.

"I can't allow that yet. He can't help you do this."

"And I supposed only you can," sarcasm coated my voice. "God, you don't care about me at all, do you? You came after me to train me…to be whatever it is you want me to be."

"That is not true, Alyson."

I ducked underneath his arms, thinking about locking myself in the bathroom until he went away. But maybe I actually wanted to fight.

"Yes, it is!" I shouted. "Ever since you found me you've either been asking about my abilities or trying to convince me to let you train me."

"I'm trying to make you stronger. I'd think that you'd be happy to do that. You could protect your boyfriend and his brother. You could kill the demon that killed your mother."

"I'm not revenge driven!" I exclaimed. "I mean, yes, I want the demon gone, but it is not worth losing myself over."

A knock came from the door, and the door knob kind of started wiggling. Jack had locked the door, so it wasn't opening.

"Hey," it was Dean, "open the door."

I sighed impatiently. "Let him in." He was blocking my way.

"You do it. You want him so badly, open the door." I began moving forward, but he blocked my path again. "Not that way."

"Oh, come on. Give it up. Why are you doing this?"

"Alyson! Open the door. This isn't funny!"

"Coming," I said, dancing around Jack and unlocking the door. I opened it and saw both my guys there.

"What the hell?" Dean asked. "We heard yelling."

"I was having a very heated…discussion…with Jack."

They stepped in and they looked like they still had questions. I closed the door with a soft click.

"About what?" Sam asked.

"My…training or whatever," I explained.

"I thought we said 'no distractions'," Jack said.

"No, you said that and you totally ignored what I said."

"But it helped, did it not?" he asked. "You made the knife move."

"Because I was angry," I said slowly.

"Exactly. Because I pushed your buttons."

I glared at him, seeing red. "You were doing that on purpose?" That made me mad all over again. "I told you that I could lose control and…" I trailed off, starting to shake from my anger. "Are you trying to make me an emotional wreck? I mean, you come to find me after all this time, and then you tell me you wanna help me control these abilities and then you purposely try to make me lose control!"

My voice had been rising as I'd been talking, and the bed had started shaking; the table started as well.

"How is that helping? Huh?"

The power was building in me, I could feel it. It wasn't painful, but it was just…a lot of power. And if I didn't let it go, I was sure the windows were gonna explode, which would not be good.

Suddenly my laptop hurled itself at my dad's head, but he ducked and it hit the wall behind him and crashed to the floor in pieces.

"My computer!" I cried. "That had my music and my pictures on it."

I saw the TV lift itself up and suddenly I was being turned around to face Dean. Well, not face him, exactly, but I was being pulled against his chest, and he was wrapping his arms around me.

"Stop it!" he said loudly. "Whatever you're doin' to her, stop it."

"I'm not doing anything," came Jack's voice. "I was trying to teach her. This particular ability comes to her when her emotions are at their peak. If she can learn to control her emotions, she can learn to control her ability."

"Her emotions weren't out of control until you came along," Sam said pointedly.

I felt tears sting my eyes. I wanted very much to hit Jack; I wanted to break his nose with my fist. And that scared me because I wasn't a violent person, not by nature. I mean, I wasn't exactly a pacifist, because I'd fight if I had to, but I didn't believe in just hitting people. But maybe he deserved it.

"Mr. Daniels, I think you should go," Dean's voice vibrated against my cheek. His tone was of the 'no arguing' variety.

I heard the door open and close, so I assumed he'd left, and then Dean was lowering us to the ground and was trying to calm me down.

"Hey, he's gone, okay? He's not here anymore." Dean's hands found my face and he cupped it, placing them on my cheeks. "Look at me. You need to calm down, okay? Take deep breaths…and relax."

I saw movement at my side and turned to watch Sam move the TV back to it's rightful place. At least it wasn't broken. He'd picked it up right out of the air.

But the bed was still shaking, although not as bad as it had been, and it was slowing down steadily, until eventually it wasn't moving at all.

I grabbed onto Dean's shirt, and I felt him start rubbing my back in soothing circles, and I slumped against him. The power was receding, and I didn't know whether it was because of Dean, himself, or because I was calming down, but I didn't feel like exploding or anything like that.

I saw Sam kneel down beside me and heard him ask if I was okay now. They were both wondering if they were gonna have to duck and cover at some point in the near future but I think they were safe. There was no wind like there was the first time in the church. I was still shaking, however.

I pulled away from Dean slightly, looking around the room. My eyes fell on my computer, broken on the floor, and I replayed launching it at Jack. My music had been on there, which was okay; it was on my Ipod, too. But my pictures were another story. They were a lost cause. There had been pictures of my friends, and a few of my mom. I had actual pictures of my mom in my bag, but my friends…most of those had been on my computer.

I went to stand up, but I was too shaky; it was like the aftereffects of an adrenaline rush. Dean helped me up and onto the bed, and kneeled down in front of me.

"Are you really okay?"

Sam sat beside me. "No explosions in sight?"

I smiled slightly and shook my head. "I think you're safe." I glanced at my computer again. "My laptop, however, is a goner."

Dean stood up slowly and went to the door. "I'm gonna kill him."

"Dean, no," I said.

He looked at me. "What, are you kiddin' me? Look what he did to you."

"No, you can hit him until he bleeds," I said, "but don't kill him."

"Hit him until he bleeds?" Dean said to himself. "You know, that sounds like a very good idea."

"Can I help?" Sam asked seriously.

"Guys, you don't have to -"

"Hey, you've said it once before," Dean started, interrupting me. "You mess with one of us, you mess with all of us."

"But I'm okay." I was, except for being a little shaky. "And, yes, he was being an ass, but he didn't hurt me. I was more worried about me hurting him, to be honest."

"Yeah, but he shouldn't have done that, messin' with you like that," Sam said firmly.

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "From now on, he can't be alone with you. It's kinda like that supervision thing with custody things, where the parent can't be alone with their kid." Dean paused, thinking. "Can I still hit him?"

"Sure," I said easily. "Next time you see him. Just don't beat him up too bad. I want the knock out blow to be dealt by me."

Both Sam and Dean laughed at that, even though I was at least partly serious. Like they'd said, he'd had no right to do that. Not to mention, that wasn't exactly the way to win me over or to gain my trust.

------------- -

After giving my laptop a good throwing out, Dean and I went to a nearby 7/11 and got a few things to eat in the car as we went. I got a small bag of cheddar popcorn and a pack of Starburst, along with water. Dean went to pay for that and whatever he was getting him and Sam, and I was going to go wait in the car, but something caught my eye.

A newspaper with the front page headline of Fire Victims Stump Lexington, Kentucky, Local Police. I picked it up and started reading it.

Aaron Temple, 9, was found early yesterday morning near the recently reactivated tobacco plant. Aaron is the second of two similar events that have taken place in the past week, Stacey Keeler being the first. Aaron was said to have been playing in his backyard the day before he was found and his mother, Diana Temple, turned her back on him for one second and when she turned back around, he was gone. She didn't fret, however, because he was known for sneaking off into the woods behind their house, which, incidentally, leads straight to the old tobacco plant.

The article went on to say that Aaron had been found burnt to a crisp. The only way they had been able to identify him was through dental records. The weird thing was that it didn't seem like the body had been moved at all, but the forensics team said that there was no way that he'd died there.

I went to go back to the counter, where Dean still was, and I plopped the newspaper down in front of him. I didn't offer to pay because he was always of the mind that I shouldn't spend my money when they had perfectly serviceable fake credit cards to use. He never used the word serviceable, but that was his general thought process.

"I want this," I said. "You should look at it later."

And then I went out to the car, where I had meant to go in the first place.

------------- -

Later, when we were back at the motel, Dean picked up the paper and skimmed through it. He was making a face of disgust mixed with anger. The ones dealing with kids always got to him the most. But he seemed conflicted.; he didn't know if it was our kind of thing.

"Well, I can use my computer and research this Stacey girl," Sam started, "see if I can get anything that will tie this to the supernatural."

"I think it's something we should look into," I said, putting my two cents in. "Two kids have died in the past week in that town. Does that strike you as particularly normal?"

Dean shrugged noncommittally, which I found strange because I knew him and knew this was getting to him; I'd seen it on his face when he'd been reading the article.

Sam was looking at Dean oddly as well, so I assumed he didn't understand what was going through Dean's mind either. Sam, who'd been at the table, stood up and said, "I'll be right back. I'm gonna go get my computer."

He left, leaving the door open since he'd be back shortly, and I sat down beside Dean. "What's the matter?"

"Nothin'," Dean said. "I just don't think this is our kind of thing."

"So you said." I reached my hand up to stroke the back of his neck, where the short hair was. "What's really-"

"Knock, knock." Jack was at the door now; it wasn't Sam. "Is it safe again?" He stepped inside.

I felt Dean tense slightly beneath my fingers. He wasn't very pleased with my dad at the moment. Neither was I, now that I thought about it.

"What do you want now?" I asked coldly. "To play with fire again?"

"No. I needed to know if you understood why I did what I did."

I stood up as Sam came back in the room and glared at my dad. He was placing himself in a room with three people who weren't very fond of him at the present time. Sam went around him, giving him a 'we don't want you here' look.

"I'll be quick," Jack promised. "Do you wanna do this here? Or in private?"

Dean stood up now. "I'm thinkin' in here, where I can kick your ass if I need to."

I suppressed a laugh and touched Dean lightly on the back. "Give me a minute?" I really wanted to know what Jack had to say for himself. "Please?"

"Don't go too far," he commanded. "And don't go to his room."

"No complaining here," I retorted. "Give me your jacket. It's pretty cool outside." He shrugged out of the leather and handed it to me. "I won't go far, and I'll leave the door cracked."

I glared at Jack and then put Dean's jacket on to go outside. We walked a few feet away from the room and I just let him have it. I pulled my fist back and landed a punch to his jaw. He staggered back from the force of it.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" I seethed, refraining from hitting him again.

"I'm the one who can help you," Jack said. "If you'll let me."

"Making me lose control? Is that how you can help?" I was still being scathing, but, I mean, come on…he deserved it. "If that is all you can do, then I don't need your help."

"I had to see how strong you are now. How much control you have. I had to see what I was working with."

I clenched my fists again. "Why didn't you just ask?" I questioned. "Are you not capable of basic reasoning skills?"

"You don't seem exactly comfortable talking about your abilities with me."

I rolled my eyes. "Gee, I wonder why?" I said sarcastically. "What you did was -"

"Crude?" he interrupted.

"Wrong," I said, overtop of him. "Maybe that's how you're used to doing things, but that is not the way to get to me." I took a deep soothing breath and let it out slowly. "They trust you even less now." Meaning the guys. "Congratulations."

"So…" he started, but trailed off, apparently wondering where his actions were gonna leave us.

"So…" I repeated his word. "I hit you, and I feel better now."

He grinned, but I didn't. This talk did not make things okay between us. I wondered whether I should tell him about the case I thought we had, but decided against it in case it didn't pan out…or if I realized I didn't want him there.

I pulled the jacket tighter around me and glanced at Jack, whose face was already bruising. "I'm gonna go back now, and you should put some ice on that," I said, gesturing at his jaw, "before it decides to swell or something."

I watched as he turned away and then I did the same, walking the ten or eleven steps it took to get back to my room. I stopped at the door, which was still cracked, however, because I heard Dean say something about me not being involved in this case. I almost walked in to demand an answer as to why exactly I couldn't be a part of it, but Sam did it just fine.

"What're you talking about?" Sam asked. "Why would you want to exclude her?"

I heard a chair move and then Dean was talking again. "I just don't want her to-" he broke off. "We need to be extra careful on this one."

I felt kind of guilty for spying; I'd never done it before, but I didn't want to walk in and interrupt whatever they'd been talking about either. They didn't get a lot of brotherly time now that I was in the picture. And I didn't just mean me going out with Dean, I meant me being here, period.

"I knew this was something we should look into the moment I read the article." That was Dean again. "She saw it first, by the way."

"Yeah?" Sam asked.

"Yeah." I couldn't see Dean's face, but I could hear in his voice that he was having one of those moments where he didn't know if he should continue the conversation or not.

"So…what's the problem?" Sam prompted.

"Sam…" Oh, so Dean didn't want to go on.

"No, you started this," Sam said, gently trying to get information out of Dean. "What's wrong?"

For a minute no one said anything, and then when I was getting ready to go in, Dean started talking again, so I stayed outside.

"It's just…the way these people died." Fire. "And, I don't know…if you take a look at our family's history, fire isn't exactly friendly to the women connected to us."

So that's why he'd been reacting the way he had about everything. He was scared that what happened to his mom and Jessica was going to happen to me. I wondered how long he'd been holding that particular fear in.

"Dean," Sam's voice was full of empathy. "I don't mean to sound like I'm diminishing your fears, because I know where you're coming from. Believe me, I do. But that was the demon who did that. And I'm pretty sure that this isn't the demon."

"Can we check?" Dean sounded part demanding, part vulnerable. "For signs or omens. Whatever."

"Yeah," Sam answered. "Yeah, sure." And then after a few seconds. "You're serious about her." It was more a statement than a question. "When did you realize?"

"Realize?" Dean was playing dumb.

"Yeah, that you loved her," Sam clarified. "Are in love with her? I mean, you used to flirt all the time, but when…?"

"Sam." That was Dean's warning voice he used when Sam was pushing something Dean really didn't want to talk about. And this conversation they were having was of the uncomfortable type, but eventually Dean spoke again, although he cleared his throat first, as he usually did in uncomfortable situations.

"It was when Dad was taken," Dean said, and his voice was kinda husky. "When she did…everything…just to help me. She knew what I needed and she-" he broke off.

"She put your needs first," Sam finished for him.

"Yeah," Dean said, grateful for not having to be the one to say it. He wasn't used to people putting him before everything else, and it seemed that he wasn't very comfortable with the idea.

He cleared his throat again. "Anyway, are we done? I think I've had enough of the caring and sharing to last a lifetime."

I heard Sam chuckle and I grinned. I still felt guilty for eavesdropping though. I thought about what Dean had said, everything he'd said. First being about the case. I had a feeling Dean knew it wasn't the yellow-eyed demon, he was just being overcautious.

The second thing was about me putting him first. I was glad he acknowledged the fact because putting him before myself was becoming second nature to me. Making him my priority was as much my nature as it was for Dean to make Sam his priority.

That's another reason Dean and I got along so well: I understood that Sam came first and I accepted it. I didn't expect him to change after all this time taking care of Sam.

Anyway, I found myself walking to my dad's room and knocking on the door. He answered after a few seconds and he looked surprised to see me there. Not surprising since he'd only left, like, five minutes ago. I noticed he was holding an icepack to his jaw; he'd obviously taken my advice.

"Yeah?" he questioned.

I took a deep breath, thinking I'd get straight to the point here. "We found a case," I declared. "Lexington, Kentucky. Two kids were found burned. Two separate events, mind you, and we don't know much else."

Jack stepped aside to let me in but I refused. He resumed his previous position: leaning on the doorframe. "Why're you telling me this?"

I sighed. "You should come," I said reluctantly. "I don't trust you," I added quickly and firmly, "and I'm not happy with you. But no matter how much of an ass you're being, you haven't tried to hurt me. And I'm thinkin' we might need you."

"Why?"

"Because…" I didn't know how much I should say so I tried to vague it up for him. "This is going to be a sensitive case and the guys may need help from someone other than me."

Meaning, of course, that Dean may want me to keep out of it like I'd heard him say earlier…and I would probably listen just to give him peace of mind.

Okay, as always, reviews are definitely welcome and appreciated. Thanks in advance.