Okay, so I'm back. YAY!!! The surgery went well, recovery sucked, but now I'm pretty good. I still don't have all my energy back, but the doctor said I won't for a few more weeks, but I can write again. :) This chapter, however, isn't some of my best work, in my opinion anyway, but I think that's because I was pretty much high on pain medicine when I was trying to write. LOL. Anyway, enjoy.

Vegas
Part One

Sam had pretty much kicked Dean out of his room, saying he wanted to be alone. He'd said he was fine, but he didn't want any company.

Well, whether he wanted company or not…he didn't need to be alone. Not now, anyway. So here I was at Sam's motel door; I'd asked Dean to let me try and he'd agreed. He'd warned me Sam was drinking, though.

When Sam opened the door my nose wrinkled slightly. I could actually smell the alcohol coming off of him in waves. Ew.

"Oh, it's you," Sam said, moving away from the door. Apparently when you're drinking, your manners go out the window. Especially when your speech is starting to slur. That's when you know the alcohol is really kicking in.

"Yeah, it's me," I said softly, stepping into the room, closing the door behind me.

I noticed there were a couple bottles of clear liquid - Vodka? - on the table. They were the medium-sized plastic ones. One was already two-thirds empty - and Sam not being the drink-all-the-time kind, it affected him…badly.

"So, what d'you want?" Sam asked, sitting down on a chair clumsily.

"Well, I was gonna see if you needed anything, but…looks like you got it covered."

Sam tipped a bottle my way. "Yep. Got it covered."

"Okay, well…" I sat down at the table with him. "Did you wanna -"

"No, I don't wanna," Sam interrupted rudely. "I told Dean I didn't want company. What I want is to be left alone."

"But you don't need to be alone," I countered. "You need to be around people who love you."

"Yeah, and what has that gotten me s-so far?" He didn't give me time to answer. "Nothin' good, that's what."

"Sam…" I didn't know what to say. I didn't know how to comfort someone who was drinking.

"I mean, I had Jess, she died. I found Madison, I had to kill her." Sam had tears in his eyes - or maybe they were just glassy from the alcohol. "But you? You're pretty much indestructible and Dean has you."

What did I have do with anything?

"You get stuck on the ceiling, you heal. You get tortured, you heal. You get bitten by a werewolf and you don't even turn."

I bit my lip to keep from saying anything, to keep from interrupting his rambling. I didn't want to take offense because Sam was drinking, but I knew that Sam must've been feeling this at some point or he wouldn't have been saying it. Alcohol may make you loose-lipped, but it didn't implant thoughts in your brain. Right?

"Why does Dean get to have this when I can't?"

Okay, so the wetness in Sam's eyes wasn't the alcohol; it was tears. But from the way he was talking, I was the last person he wanted comfort from.

"Everybody I touch dies. It's like I'm destined to be alone while you and Dean just have a good ol' time together."

And now my eyes were misting, blurring Sam in front of me. I didn't wanna know this stuff. I mean, sure, I'd known Sam had jealousy issues, and I even understood why. But I never would've guessed he had so much built up resentment inside him. Toward me, toward Dean, towards the world even. He'd held all this anger and pain in for so long that now it was just busting out.

"It was just me and Dean for so long…and then you came along and now I'm losing him because of you."

"You're not losing Dean," I said as calmly as I could, given the situation. "And even if you were, it wouldn't be my fault." I just thought I'd clear that up for him. But he acted like I hadn't even said anything. He just kept talking.

"Before you, Dean would tell me what was on his mind. But now all he does is run to you. You're like his security blanket now."

"I'm his girlfriend," I said heatedly, standing up. "Also, every time Dean tells you anything, you nail him with it later," I added without thinking. "And I think you've had enough."

I grabbed at the bottle he held, but he yanked it away, spilling some of it on himself as his hand tipped.

"I'm fine. I can have more if I want."

I threw my hands up in surrender. If he wanted to sit here and have himself a pity party then, fine, but I wasn't gonna just watch him wallow in his sorrow. If he wanted to be drunk and depressed, then I would let him do it alone.


When I reached my room I didn't go in right away. I knew Dean would see me and know I was upset and he'd wanna know why. And I wouldn't lie to him. I'd tell him everything if he asked.

So waiting was the better option. What I was waiting for, exactly, I wasn't sure. For my anger to go away? For the hurt to lessen? I was more angry than hurt, though.

How dare Sam take his loss out on me. It wasn't my fault he was practically cursed.

I wiped the tears away from my face and went in quietly. Dean was cleaning our weapons. He did it methodically, but I knew it relaxed him.

"Sam okay?" he asked, looking up.

"I dunno," I said softly. "I think he's all twisted up inside. He had a chance to be happy for a while, and it was yanked away."

I laid on our bed and Dean put his weapon down.

"Did he say anything or was he pretty much gone?"

"Oh, he said somethin', alright," I muttered bitterly.

Dean laid beside me, jostling me gently. "From your tone, I'm guessing it wasn't anything good."

"No, it wasn't." I sighed shakily. "Look, I don't wanna make things awkward between you guys, but…I really don't think he likes havin' me around all the time."

"Why would you say that?" Dean asked, placing his hand over my stomach.

"He said that. He thinks he's losing you because of me."

"Well, that's stupid," Dean said quickly. "I can have you both and still be there for him just the same."

"Yeah -" I knew that, " - I don't think Sam sees it that way. I mean…the way he was talking…it was like he hated me or somethin'. But he was drinking so it doesn't mean anything, right. I mean, he probably won't even remember telling me these things. Right?"

"Maybe not, but you will," Dean said, voice hardening. "Drunk or not…I don't want him talkin' to you like that." He kissed my head tenderly. "I'll talk to him in the mornin'. I'll… If he doesn't understand why I need you around then that's his problem."


The next morning I woke Dean up in a sort of unconventional way. It didn't take long. A couple kisses on his neck, a few nips on his shoulder, a hand massaging his chest and stomach.

"Mm…" he moaned as his eyes opened. "This is a very good wake up call."

"Isn't it?" I smiled coyly, yet still bit my lip shyly. I kissed his shoulder before making my way to his mouth. "Morning," I said before my lips met his in a slow, languid kiss. My hand traveled to his boxers - which were tented, by the way - and I rolled my fingers over the top. His muscles quivered and I smiled against him.

His hand tangled itself in my hair and massaged my scalp gently. It made my head tingle.

The tips of my fingers snuck their way under the waistband of his boxers and his hand tightened behind my head, pulling me closer. His other hand soothed over my back, down to my hips to the end of my shirt. Well, the shirt was actually his, but I'd pretty much taken it over, so…my shirt now.

Anyway, his hand slipped beneath the shirt and he got a little surprise - I wasn't wearing any underwear, so yes I had planned this.

Dean groaned into my mouth and broke away, panting.

"You're tryin' to kill me, aren't you?" he quipped, letting his fingers explore.

Shivering from his ministrations, I grabbed his length and soon enough I had him naked and we were together. Together.

It seemed the only time I was content lately was when we were connected like this - body and soul. Our lives were so…strange and hectic that this was sometimes the only way I could convince myself that this all wasn't a dream or some very vivid world I'd cooked up in my head.

We were both sitting up, me on top, with my legs around him and we moved together fluidly and our lips meshed against each other messily.

We rutted against each other lazily and I broke away from our kiss to breathe and his lips latched onto my neck, sucking marks into my skin that disappeared as soon as they showed up. I wished these marks would actually stay, though.

I scratched up and down his back with my fingernails, probably leaving angry red welts, but I didn't care, and Dean didn't seem to either.

We were making slow, lazy, Raining-On-Sunday, love. The speed was slow enough to keep me - both of us - on the edge, but it was also slow enough to make me insane with desire.

I gasped as our bodies drove together again, only harder this time. And then suddenly I was being flipped so Dean was on top and things sped up intensely. I arched beneath him, my legs still locked around him.

He panted against my shoulder and his hand squeezed against my thigh. I could tell he was really close.

Our breaths mingled as he found my lips again. We moaned into each others mouth as we continued our rhythm like our lives depended on it. My nails dug into his back again as I tightened around him and fire burned through my veins.

He whispered my name against my lips as pleasure shocked through me, originating from where our bodies interlocked. I groaned out things that were unintelligible even to me, but it didn't matter. Your mind has a tendency to shut down when you're feeling this good.

Dean thrusted a little harder and then I felt him pulse inside me, and he nipped on my shoulder while he came, growling my name in between bites.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, smiling sweetly to myself. This had been the best way to start the morning. Especially with what had gone on the night before.

Dean's head rested in the crook of my neck and I took this peaceful time to just take in the scent that was Dean. Leather, gunpowder, and some kind of soap. And I giggled - yes, actually giggled - when I picked up the scent of my shampoo on him. It was very faint so it was only because we spent so much time together that it was there - and so much time doing this.

"That's not your normal response," Dean said, rolling over onto his back. "What's funny?"

"What, you couldn't tell?" Ever since the whole connecting thing, Dean could always tell what I was thinking when we were touching.

"Of course I could," Dean said. "I just wanted to know if you'd say it out loud."

I laughed softly, snuggling up to him. "Why would I when you already know?"

A few minutes later, after the peacefulness passed…Dean sighed, mock-thoughtfully.

"So…you just did this to get on my good side, right? So I'd yell at Sam?"

"Bite me," I said, and Dean actually followed me with his teeth and we both ended up tangled up in the other again, both of us grinning stupidly. "I didn't mean for real."

"I know." Dean smirked. "But you taste good."

I blushed, turning my head into his chest to hide my cheeks.

Relaxing a little I said, "You don't have to yell at him. But…just tell him what you told me last night. I mean…it hurt when he said those things to me. He only said them 'cause he was drinkin'. Who knows how long he's been holding it inside?"

"Yeah, but still…like I said last night, he shouldn't talk to you like that. You're pretty much here to stay, so he's just gonna have to get used to it."

Touched by the fact that Dean was willing to fight with Sam because of - for - me, I kissed him firmly on the lips. This was sort of a big deal because Dean usually gave in to Sam with everything.

"I really, really love you," I said, kissing him once more. "Ya know that?"

"I do know that," Dean said, smiling softly. "And…I love you too."

It sounded like it was hard for him to say it, but that was Dean for you. But he wouldn't have had to say it if he hadn't wanted to; I could see the love shining in his eyes every time he looked at me.


Dean didn't have to actually go see Sam because Sam came to us. He looked really…bad. Bloodshot eyes - it looked like he'd been crying again. It made me feel bad for him even though I was still hurt.

When his gaze caught mine, I looked away, however, because I could tell he remembered his - our? - conversation from the night before.

"Alyson…I am so sorry. I shouldn't have said what I did."

"Yeah, you know what, you shouldn't have," Dean said. "I know you were hurting, but she's…she deserves more than that. What you did was disrespectful, and I don't want it happening again."

Sam looked surprised that Dean was chastising him. Surprised, but accepting. He understood that in this situation, Dean was a parent teaching a child a lesson, and Sam played the reprimanded child very well.

"It won't happen again," Sam said dejectedly. "I swear."

"Well…" Dean was shocked that this had seemingly gone so well. "Good…then my work is done. And I'm gonna take a shower."

Dean and I had gotten dressed earlier, so Sam didn't see anything inappropriate.

"Ya'll should just…talk," Dean said. "Work things out."

"Yeah, okay," Sam said quickly, and Dean went into the bathroom.

I still avoided his gaze even as the bed sunk in beside me when Sam sat down.

"If there's anything I can do…" he started, but trailed off.

"There isn't," I said, finally looking up at him. "You really hurt my feelings, Sam. I mean, I thought we were okay."

"We were - we are."

"Obviously not," I said softly. "I mean, you hate that I'm here."

"That's not true. I miss being the one Dean put first, but -"

"What are you talking about?" I whispered heatedly, looking towards the bathroom door. I didn't want Dean to hear too much because it might make things awkward between all of us. "Dean still puts you first. If you can't see that then you are blind. I mean, if it came right down to a choice between you and me, he'd pick you. Every time. So don't make him choose," I said firmly.

"I wouldn't do that," Sam said. "I know you make him happy, and… Look, last night I was drunk. I don't really want you gone. I was just…I was hurting and I didn't care what I said. Okay? I don't hate you or…"

"Resent the fact that I'm with Dean?" I challenged him.

"I don't…resent it, exactly. But it does hurt because I can't have what you guys have. Something always goes wrong." Sam sighed. "I shouldn't have taken it out on you and I'm sorry."

I looked at him closely and decided he was telling the truth. Sam wouldn't have deliberately hurt me if he'd been sober.

"Fine, but things have to change. No more jealous looks, no more having resentment at our happiness, and no more thinking you'll be alone forever."

Sam looked away. "But what if I am?"

"You'll never be alone while me and Dean are alive," I said firmly. "And the Yellow-Eyed demon won't be around forever. We'll find a way to kill him and move on with our lives, and you'll meet someone and be happy."

Sam's eyes glistened slightly. "After all this time, after finding out what's out there…how do you still have hope?"

"Because of you and Dean," I said honestly. "Because I know there's still good in the world, and because there are still things worth fighting for."


Sam hadn't only come to our room to apologize; he'd also been online this morning and had found something a little…strange. But maybe not supernatural.

Dean had gotten out of the shower already, so we were all here, letting Sam explain.

Some small-time lawyer guy - Robert Harris - had been killed. He'd been chained to a rock in the desert - Nevada - and his liver was missing - a bird had eaten it.

"That's gross," Dean said. "But it sounds like a job for the cops. Not us."

"Well, that's what I thought too," Sam said. "But the death sounded familiar to me."

"Serial killer?" I suggested.

"No." Sam smiled. "Mythologically speaking, it's how Prometheus died."

"Who?" Dean asked.

"Prometheus," I said. "He was a Titan in Greek mythology. Supposedly, he and his brother were the ones who made Man in the image of God…well, the gods back then, anyway."

"And how do you know this?" Dean asked.

"Yeah…how?" Sam asked.

"World History is a course in school now. You learn all about the ancient times and all. I think he was the one who brought the fire from Heaven so men could survive."

"Yeah, and then Jupiter - or Zeus - made woman and sent her here to punish men for accepting the gift of fire, because it had been stolen."

Dean had been looking back and forth between me and Sam like we were freaks for knowing this stuff.

"Okay, Wikipedia, what about the dead guy? How does that relate to this?"

"We're getting there," Sam said.

"Yeah…um…anyway, the first woman was named Pandora."

"Pandora?" Dean said. "As in Pandora's box?"

"Yup - and contrary to popular belief, she wasn't evil. The box - or jar, actually - wasn't even hers. It belonged to Epimetheus - Prometheus' brother. She was just curious and she opened it."

"Yeah, yeah. I know this part," Dean said. "She released a bunch of nasty crap. Skip this and get to the good part."

"Okay, well…supposedly at the beginning of the world everything was perfect," Sam began animatedly. He always became excited when he explained things. He should've been a teacher. "It was called the Golden Age. There was no need for law because everyone did the right thing all the time and always told the truth. There was no violence, so they didn't have weapons. The earth provided everything humans needed, things grew on their own, humans didn't even have to work for it."

"Yeah, that age didn't exist," Dean said. "So…skip it."

"Well…okay," Sam said. "Or…no. It's relevant…just be patient."

"But I'm not good at that," Dean complained. "If I wanted to know this I'd go back to school."

"Okay…basically the Golden Age was the Garden of Eden era in Christianity," I said. "Most religions have the same concepts just with different names and places."

"Right," Sam agreed, getting back into it. "The next age was the Silver Age. Jupiter changed the seasons so that men had to go through hot and cold weather. Men had to cut trees down to build houses. Most people lived in caves, though. They had to plant crops now instead of the earth giving it to them automatically."

"The fall of Adam and Eve," I specified for Dean's benefit.

"The worst age was the Iron Age. War sprung up. No one could be trusted. People became greedy and mythology says that's when the gods abandoned the earth and all the people in it. Jupiter sent a flood."

"The flood? Forty days and forty nights flood?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. Although in Greek and Roman mythology it doesn't specify how long it took."

"Okay…so humans got killed…what about that Titan guy?"

"Well…he was friendly with humans," Sam said. "Myth goes that he supposedly intervened so Jupiter wouldn't kill every human on the planet. Jupiter didn't like that he was so friendly with us humans. Jupiter had Prometheus chained to a rock where a vulture ate his liver, which healed as soon as it was eaten."

"So…if this were true…he'd still be suffering today?" Dean asked.

"Pretty much," I said. "The reason he's a big deal is because he could've ended his pain at any time if only he'd done what the gods wanted him to. Story goes that he didn't. So, yeah, in theory, he'd still be chained to a rock, having his liver eaten."

"By a vulture," Sam said emphatically. "Like this lawyer guy. They matched the marks with a bird."

"Okay, I admit it's weird, Sammy, but what could it be? I've never heard anything like it."

"I don't know," Sam admitted. "But I need to work, okay? To take my mind off things. Besides…it's close to Vegas."

"Vegas?" Dean asked, suddenly interested. "Okay, let's go."


"So, anymore godlike deaths stand out?" Dean asked, packing his stuff in a bag.

Sam had brought his laptop into our room so he could research this thing. So far…nada.

"No, but it's not like I know every death in mythology. And there haven't been any weird accidents or anything at the law firm until now. Although there was a change in management recently. The old boss retired."

"Hm…maybe new management has something to do with it," I said. "Or the Senior Partners?"

"Senior Partners?" Sam asked. "Nah. There would've been trouble before now. But the new management…maybe. We'll see."

I began packing my stuff now and started voicing a concern. "Um, guys…if this is about myths coming true…what if people start turning into trees?"

"Come again?" Dean said, pausing from packing. "Really need an explanation here. Just without the history lesson."

"Okay, well, long story short…Apollo and Daphne - Apollo was a son of Jupiter and Daphne was the daughter of a river god - are an example of many. Apollo fell in love with Daphne, but she was basically too wild to be tamed. When Apollo caught her she was terrified and prayed to the gods to change her form so Apollo wouldn't love her anymore. They changed her into a tree."

Dean blinked a few times. "Yeah, but…that's not possible. I don't think we have to worry about that."

"Yeah, he's probably right," Sam said. "And even if it does happen…no one would say anything about it. Everyone would think they were nuts."

"Probably, yeah." I cracked a smile. "I was just wondering."


When we arrived in Vegas the first thing I noticed was the dryness in the air - which duh because…deserts. The next thing I noticed was…The Strip wasn't all that nice during the day.

"Sammy, we have got to stay here a while. We can have some fun," Dean said.

"Dude, no, if we stay here, we'll get caught or somethin'."

"Yeah," I said. "I'm goin' with Sam on this one. No gambling, no visiting the casinos at all unless we have to."

"Well, ya'll just suck the fun out of everything, don't you?" Dean responded good-naturedly. But I knew he actually understood where we were coming from and he wouldn't go anywhere that the case didn't take us.


"Oh, I'm so glad it's warm here," I said, tying my jacket around my waist. It wasn't summer weather, but it was at least 60 and it made me happy. I hated cold weather.

"Yeah, me too," Sam said.

"Well, I'm not," Dean put in. "We have to wear those stupid suits and it's friggin' hot in those things."

I shook my head. "Aw, poor baby. I could go in your place if you want."

"No, I'm good." Dean looked around - we were in Boulder City now. He was probably trying to find a reasonably priced motel. Or a restaurant. Maybe both.

"God, I'm hungry," he said. "What d'you guys want?"

"Food," I said smartly, and he mock-glared at me through the rearview mirror. "Hey, you asked."

"Uh-huh. Really, though, what do you want?"

"Our normal?"

"I was hoping you would say that."


Everything here was pricier than normal because we were close to Vegas, but it wasn't outrageous or anything like that. And the diner we were at still played rock music so we weren't in Backwards World. Yet, anyway.

I got a salad because I wasn't all that hungry. Sam got the same as me, and Dean got his usual heart attack on a bun.

The person that waited on us was a guy. He looked college age and he was cute in that adorable, baby-face way. His name was David and he was…overly friendly to me. Yeah. That's the way we'll put it.

At first it didn't bother me. Waiters used the terms 'Sweetie' and 'Honey' all the time and it never really meant anything, but this guy was flirting. Not to mention this guy stared at me way too much for it to not mean anything. I wasn't even the one who noticed the guy - his name was David - was staring at me. That was Dean.

From then on he pretty much kept an arm around me the whole time. He gave off a serious 'hands off' attitude, which I was okay with. I didn't really feel like fending off boys today.

I pretty much saw the guy's spirits dampen though. I didn't know why. There had to be other girls here that he could hang out with.


At the motel we decided to stay at, Sam actually offered to let us have our own room, but we didn't accept. We had a case to do, and besides…Sam wouldn't be there the whole time.

What we were gonna be doing for the rest of the day was find out as much as we could about this Robert Harris guy. And then see if there were anymore weird deaths that maybe hadn't reached the papers.

So far, the only things we were sure of was that Robert had been a lawyer and he'd died.

In a weird way.