Dean pushed the door shut behind him with his foot. His arms were still around Logan since he still wasn't convinced that her legs would fully support her weight. He glanced at the clock on the microwave as they moved toward the small bedroom and he noticed it was earlier than he thought it was, only just now midnight.

Logan's weight was heavy against him as he led her to the bed and sat her down. She hovered, dazed and then purposely fell back to lie on the bed. "I feel like I've been run over by a truck."

Dean smiled, "Yeah, know what you mean."

Logan leaned up on her elbows and winced when the stitches pulled, "Ooo, that still hurts." She cocked her head and looked up Dean, "You have no idea what I mean. You're rarely tired after a hunt and I don't remember when, if ever, you've bitched about being hurt."

"So, can't be different tonight?" Dean asked slumping into the small chair and pulling off his boots and socks.

Logan shook her head and sighed, "Guess so."

Dean tossed his boots to the side and peeled his coat off, dropping it onto the chair. "I need a shower, or you want first dibs?" Dean said heading out into the living area where he'd left his duffle.

"No, you go ahead." Logan called after him, as she sat up to pull off her own boots.

Dean ducked back into the room, duffle in hand, "You sure?"

Logan glanced up, "Yeah…I'm just going to rest a few." When Dean headed back up the hall, she yelled back, "Hey, you can use the one in here. Sam should be back soon."

Logan had managed to get her boots and socks off and was lying on the bed, head resting on the pillows when Dean came back in, duffle still in hand. He glanced at Logan and shrugged, "You ok, really?"

She nodded and watched as Dean ducked into the bathroom on the left side of the room. She closed her eyes and breathed deep as she heard Dean run the shower. She must have dozed because the next thing she heard was Dean gently shaking her arm.

She slitted an eye to see him, hair dripping and towel around his waist, standing beside her, "Hey, you going to shower? I left it running." When he didn't get an answer he shook his wet hair over her, raining drops of water over her face and chest.

"Shit, Dean. I'm moving, really." Logan rolled to her right side carefully, and bit back a pained hiss when her left side throbbed. She pulled the hem of her shirt up and winced when she saw the blood on the bandages.

"You mind helping me with my shirt?" Logan's voice sounded so small to Dean.

Dean nodded and helped Logan into a sitting position. Together they worked her right arm out of the sleeve of the shirt and then Dean pulled it gently over her head and down her left arm. Areas on the bandage were soaked with blood and a thin thread of red was trickling down Logan's side. Dean shook his head and glared at her sternly, but he didn't manage to pull off the desired effect with his hair dripping and the towel at his waist. Logan smiled at him and shook her head.

"It's not funny. I shouldn't have let you come along." Dean pushed hair out of Logan's eyes, "You wouldn't have gotten hurt, again." He said quietly as his eyes met hers.

"Let me come? First, the gun comment, now I need your permission to hunt…" Logan leaned forward and wearily pressed her forehead against Dean's side, "…really, you need to stop or I'm going to get all weak in the knees."

Dean rested a hand gently on the top of Logan's head, "Not sure you can get any weaker."

Logan heard the teasing in his voice and pinched his butt through the towel, "Speaking of which, how about helping me up to the shower." She lifted her head and looked up at Dean, "Honestly, I'm not too sure I'll stay standing, but hell if I'm going to bed smelling like this." She wrinkled her nose disdainfully at the odor of smoke and blood and who knew what else.

"Come on then, up." Dean moved to pull Logan up from the bed. She leaned heavily against him into the bathroom, where he leaned her against the sink before pulling back. He made quick work of undoing her jeans and then helped her drag them down and off her legs.

When he stood back up, Logan was hesitantly pulling the bandages from her side. Pausing to wince when they stuck to a particularly painful area then dropping the entire thing into the trashcan by the sink. She turned and wiped steam from the mirror and couldn't keep the tears from her eyes when she took in the ugliness of it, again.

Ignoring the wound, Dean gently wrapped an arm around her and lifted her chin to meet his eyes in the mirror. He shook his head, "Don't. It doesn't make you any less sexy…nothing could, and it's not your first scar." Dean's hand travelled to her back and he fingered the scar of the wound by her shoulder that he'd sewn up for her, then another on her hip, "You're sexy as hell, Logan, scar or no scar."

Dean pressed his thickening length against her bottom, and bent to kiss the side of her neck. His eyes still locked with hers, "I still want you…" He whispered near her ear, even as his fingers brushed lightly at the nipple of her right breast. "…still need you."

A small whimper fell from Logan's open mouth, even as the tears slid down her cheek and she pressed back into him more firmly. Dean's mouth followed up the curve of her neck and then he kissed her softly on the cheek, his eyes still on hers in the mirror.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up." He said, pulling back and opening the shower curtain. He smiled, "You smell."

Logan chuckled, and let him help her into the shower. Dean dropped his towel and followed her in. Turning her to face the water, he pulled her back against his chest to support her. He tried to keep as much of the spray from her left side by turning them slightly.

One hand on Logan's right hip, he used his other to soap up a washcloth and then he handed it to her. She took it eagerly and moaned appreciatively as the soap and water washed away the smell of death and fear.

Together they managed to wash away the blood and soot and then Dean lathered up her hair and gently rinsed it before shutting off the water and briskly drying her with a towel. Logan protested weakly, but didn't do much to stop him. Once they were both dried, he helped her back to the bed.

"Dean?" Sam yelled from the living room, "You here, man?"

Dean paused to drag a pair of boxers from his duffle and pull them on before pushing open the bedroom door, "Yeah, let me finish changing." Dean answered and then was digging through Logan's pack and pulling out a pair of red bikini briefs, and a black tank top. He held them up for her approval. Logan shrugged and when the panties landed in her lap, she bent and pulled them on. She still held a hand towel to her side.

Dean dropped the tank top on the bed beside her, "Let me take a look." He said and pulled the towel from her side. Dean, who hadn't seen the wound since Kate worked on it, nodded grimly. "She did a good job." He said absently, noting that none of the stitches had pulled loose. The open areas were still oozing, two places pretty heavily.

Dean gently pressed the towel against the bleeding and put Logan's hand over it, "Still bleeding, Sam restocked so I think we have some Surgicel. I'll go look, maybe let Kate take a look." Dean pulled on a clean pair of jeans, grabbed a t-shirt and pulled it over his head as he headed out into the living area.

Kate had showered, and she sat by the now-roaring fire, finger combing her wet hair. Sam was just coming down the steps from the loft; a clean t-shirt in hand and his jeans unbuttoned. His hair was still damp and just starting to fall from its post-shower slick back.

Sam shrugged at his brother, "Think we all had the same idea." He motioned to Dean's own damp hair and clean clothes. "We showered at Kate's when she stopped to pick up some things."

Dean nodded, "Hey, Logan's still bleeding. You, ah did borrow some Surgicel from that ambulance when we restocked last right?"

Sam frowned thoughtfully before nodding. He pulled his shirt over his head and moved to the counter where he'd left the box of supplies. Sam rifled through the box, "Logan holding up alright?" He asked pulling out a smaller box and then a couple of foil packages.

Dean shrugged, "Pretty good, I guess. We haven't really talked much. She's pretty tired." Dean turned to Kate, "Hey, thanks for taking care of your boss…we really appreciate it, and sorry you got in trouble." Dean gave her a half-smile.

Kate looked up and then stood, "He's just saving face. He knows what I did was right," Kate moved to the counter by Sam and took the Surgicel from his hand, "Wish I'd known you had this earlier, must've missed it." She glanced back at Dean, "Steve's a good guy, but he's fair. He can't let everyone think I went up there to harass Ryan and not discipline me for it, and don't worry about the police and fire department. They're both satisfied that the nanny went up with her lover and when things didn't go well for him he hurt her and then started the fire to cover it up, just forgetting the kid."

Sam nodded, "Seems there really was a guy she'd been talking to earlier, so now they're just looking for some faceless kid to pin it on."

Dean shifted and pointed over his shoulder at the bedroom, "Yeah, well can we get Logan patched back up so she can sleep?"

Kate moved briskly past him, holding up the Surgicel and bandages supplies she'd gathered. "I'll get her squared away."

Sam moved around the counter and pulled open the refrigerator; he bent and pulled two beers from the second shelf. He shoved the door closed, walked back to where Dean was still standing and pushed a beer into Dean's hand before collapsing onto the couch with a sigh.

Dean opened his beer, tossing the cap onto the counter and then moved to the chair, where he sat taking a long draught from the bottle. "Good thinking, Sammy." Dean said before taking another long drink.

Sam smiled, "Yeah, well it's been one hell of day."

Dean rested his head on the back of the chair and closed his eyes, "No kidding." He opened one eye and watched his brother nurse his beer, "You know, Kate's pretty cool and she's damn hot, bro."

Sam smiled, "Not sure if I should say thanks or kick you for noticing how hot she is." Sam sipped his beer, his expression changing, "Any idea what the hell's going on?"

Dean set his half-empty bottle on the hearth beside him, head still on the back of the chair, "None, but I have lots of unanswered questions." Dean rolled his head toward his brother, his voice serious, "What did you see, Sam?"

Sam sighed, he'd known his brother would be asking about his vision. He'd gotten so used to not having them and now they were suddenly back. They were also different. They used to come mostly in his sleep, wake him up like nightmares, vague images floating across his mind while the pain pounded in his head. Now when they came, he was always awake, the visions were extremely detailed, so vivid sometimes it was like watching a movie. The pain usually going as the vision faded. Before his visions were always about death, and now they were not.

"I saw you try to cross the circle, saw, first me, and then Logan stop you. I saw myself cross the circle, tell Yellow Eyes exactly what I told him and then saw you torch him." Sam looked his brother in the eye and smiled, "I lied to him, because part of what I saw was the past."

Dean was confused and it showed on his face, "What are you…?"

Sam took a sip of his beer before interrupting his brother, "She's not his. Lilith isn't his, but I saw that telling him she was would make him angry." Sam shrugged, "Pissing him off was the least I could do."

Dean smiled wide and grabbed his beer from the hearth. He held it up in a salute, "Good, it's not much, but it's better than nothing. What I don't get is why that pissed him off so much? I mean if she were his wouldn't that help him out…she's super strong, probably could bring him back, right?"

Sam shook his head, "Even if she were his, she wouldn't help him. They go back, way, back and they hate each other. Lilith simply prefers to be the only soul ever in the body she possesses. She used the situation to create herself a body, one that met her specific needs." Sam sat forward, suddenly serious, "One of her needs was that her body be created in violence."

"That's wrong in so many ways," Dean said shaking his head. Still confused he asked, "You have any clue what's going on with Logan and the freaky eye thing she's pulling?"

"Don't know much, but I do know her power isn't demonic." Sam's eyes met his brothers, "She can see the influence of demons, see the possessed and understand the truth." Sam rubbed at the back of his neck, "At least that's what I think it means, but I'm not sure, because that part actually was fuzzy. For some reason, and this is more a feeling, I think she was supposed to find us…like it was meant to be."

"Damn…you know how I feel about the faith crap, Sammy." Dean tipped his beer and finished it in one long swallow. He brought his eyes back to his brother's face, "You want me to believe some higher power gave Logan some kind of ability to see evil and discern its motive and then dropped her in our lap? Why now? Why not before mom was killed, or dad made his deal…or hell I made mine?"

Dean stood and walked to the kitchen, "I don't buy that Sam, because if someone has the ability to manipulate things that much, why not throw us a bone? Hell, why not just step in and fix things?" Dean threw his empty bottle abruptly into the trashcan, the sound of shattering glass ringing in the room. He carded his hand through his hair in frustration.

Dean had suddenly had enough. He didn't want to talk about whys and what ifs with his brother. He didn't want to contemplate fate and faith and why they intersected or how they fit together. Again, he was angry and he was sick of watching people he cared about get hurt. Hell, he was even sick of watching strangers get caught up in things. He thought of girl, now dead because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He thought of the kid, and hoped that somehow he'd be all right, but knew that seeing what he'd seen had changed him.

He pushed away from the counter, "Shit, I'm tired, Sam. I'm going to check the windows and doors, then go to bed." Dean motioned toward the fireplace, "Better run a half-circle of salt on the hearth. Don't want anything coming down the chimney."

Sam saw the emotion and anger make its way across his brother's, ever expressive, face, and knew what was going through his mind. He nodded and stood, "Dean." When Dean turned he continued, "I know you don't believe it, but everything happens for a reason. Everything."

Dean sighed, "Yeah, whatever, just run the salt line will you."

Dean ran a new salt line across the threshold of the door and then the four windows in the main room. He climbed the stairs into the loft and was reassured to see the unbroken line of salt on the sill. As he climbed down, he noticed that Sam had laid the salt along the hearth and was now reclining on the couch.

Dean left him and made his way into the bedroom. Kate was chatting about something with a sleepy Logan as she cut a piece of tape and placed it on over the gauze on Logan's side.

Logan saw him and smiled at him, making Kate stop her chatting and turn. She pressed the tape gently and stood. "Hey, I got the bleeding stopped." She held up one of the unopened foil packets, "Didn't need this one, I think she'll be okay now." Kate glanced back at Logan, "She won't take any more Vicodin," Kate's eyes briefly went to Logan and she gave her a half-stern glare, "but she did take four Motrin."

Kate shrugged and walked toward the door, pausing beside Dean. She looked up at him and gave him a shy smile, "What you told her…" she paused and caught his eye, "…it meant a lot to her, thank you." Kate leaned up and kissed Dean lightly on the cheek. She turned toward the bed, "Get some sleep," and then turning back to Dean, "You too." Then she left, pulling the door closed behind her.

I know not much action, just some talk...but people do that you know. Next chapter...hmm, maybe I'll heat things up for everyone, since I keep hearing that's what you all want ;)

As always this is where I shamlessly ask for you compliments (though honestly, criticism is fine too) so consider yourselves asked...