THANKS to my lovely beta JOJO :)

Fields Of Jasmine

Chapter 23 ~ Missouri Moseley

John stared at his son in disbelief. "You are putting that bastard above your own flesh and blood?"

Dean huffed out a breath. "You were always putting the case above your flesh and blood, dad. I'm building onto something solid at least." He gave him a hard glare, not leaving room for any further discussion.

The hunter's son turned his back on him and walked towards the iron door.

He knocked and the small window opened, behind which Bobby's wrinkled eyes appeared. The deadbolt was shoved aside and the door opened. Dean pushed it open further and stepped outside.

"You can go," Dean ground out as he looked back over his shoulder, addressing his father. "We're done here."

"Dean," John made an attempt to talk up, but all he got was a low growl.

~ '67 Chevrolet Impala ~

After his third time to the kitchen cabinet and about a dozen different sweets, Sam leaned back on the couch and rubbed his belly. He couldn't possibly suppress a burp, or a second one.

He maybe shouldn't have eaten the Twizzlers on top of everything else.

And the Snickers.

Sam eyed the heap of wrappers for a very long moment, deep in thought.

Then he sighed.

It had been definitely worth it.

So worth it.

A grin tugged on the omega's lips.

~ '67 Chevrolet Impala ~

Dean came back soon after Sam had thrown out the wrappers into the basket under the sink and was sitting on the couch again, his legs pulled up tightly against his chest, remote in his left hand.

The ex-hunter toed his boots off, before he went into the living room.

Sam turned his head and greeted him with a warm smile. He looked so different from two hours ago. Mostly relaxed again and his eyes less haunted. Though, he still looked wary.

Dean sauntered over towards the couch and took a seat at the far end, giving his mate space, just in case. But as soon as his butt hit the couch, Sam uncurled and laid down, his head coming down in Dean's lap.

Sam snuggled into his thigh and his hand came up to rest beside his head on Dean's knee.

The alpha couldn't but lay his hand on Sam's head and brush over the soft hair.

He took it his mate was doing better, almost as if nothing had happened.

His omega hummed contently and let his eyes drift closed.

Then there was silence for a very long while.

"What about your father?" Sam finally spoke up eventually.

Dean blew out a long breath, debating with himself wherever he should tell Sam in detail, or if he'd leave it as sugarcoated facts. "We've cleared things up. He's going to leave."

There was another beat of silence.

That wasn't quite what Sam meant. "Why did he come for me?"

The alpha blew out another heavy breath and leaned back. "He knew about the parasite. About Orthos. He thought he needed to kill you to stop it from being born."

Sam nodded into Dean's thigh. "He thinks I'm evil, doesn't he?"

Of course Sam instantly knew what kind of feelings motivated John Winchester, since Dean knew. It was their bond and they did not have the knowledge on how to hide what they thought and felt and how to keep it from transmitting to the other.

Dean asked himself why they were supposed to talk about it, even when the two of them already knew what they already knew.

"I set things straight," he explained, his jaw set and his voice cool.

Sam frowned and his eyes fluttered open at that statement, not quite sure what he should think about it, because it didn't quite feel as if things were set.

"Nope, I didn't kill him, Sammy." He instantly sensed the omega's distress and what he thought may have happened over in Bobby's house. "He's my dad after all," he grumbled. "As bitter as it may be, he's my flesh and blood. But I made pretty clear that he's a dead man if he thinks he can get near you again." Dean smiled reassuringly, but he didn't see fear in the younger male's features.

It looked more like concern.

"You don't have to worry about the old man, Sammy. Promise." Dean whispered softly, as he pulled strands of dark hair through his fingers.

"You look troubled," Sam whispered back without looking at his soul mate. "It's bothering you. I can see that. It's like dark clouds are hovering over your head." He turned his head and looked up at him. "And I don't like that." The omega spoke.

Dean tried to smile, but he couldn't quite manage an honest one. "I'm not mad at you, Sam."

"Sometimes when you get all silent and… things… it feels like you're mad." Sam blinked up at the man with huge honest eyes.

"But I'm not, kiddo." The alpha smiled. "Okay? Not at you. I can't ever be mad at you."

Sam seemed to ponder that for a couple of minutes. "We haven't had a real fight yet."

Dean chuckled. "You're pretty clever."

"For being such a screw up," Sam added and looked back at the screen.

"Don't ever say that." Dean frowned. He laid his hand on the omega's chin and made him look him in the eyes. "Understand? You aren't a screw up."

"I'm different," Sam insisted.

"You are, but that doesn't make you a screw up," Dean countered. "Being different means being special."

Sam stared at the TV. "Being special means you aren't good for anything else but one specific thing because you suck at everything else. I've been reading the fliers Amelia gave me and I think that's about it. They call you special because they don't want you to feel bad about being a screw up."

"That's not true." He hadn't counted on Sam talking back that much. Sam had never talked back that much. He found himself taken aback by it and not able to think of a retort in time.

He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again. Sam had a valid reason for thinking that way and in some way he might have been right. But he sure as hell wasn't useless, nor a screw up.

"Sam..."

"Don't try to talk it into something sunny and flowery. We both know that ain't true." His words were sharp at the edges.

The alpha found himself flabbergasted once more, not sure about how to answer that.

Then there was silence.

"Maybe John's right," Sam talked up again, sounding sad rather than annoyed. "When he went after me back then… he already knew that something would happen. He knew that I'm bad and that… that I shouldn't walk the earth." The omega's voice broke. "He knew it. And now I know it, too. I understand why he went after me." Sam blinked at the TV.

Dean pondered his mate's words, not quite sure what he was talking about. He and his father had met a week ago for the first time. And they sure as hell hadn't been talking that much.

"If I've known why, I think I wouldn't have fought him at all," Sam added calmly. "It's my fault that Orthos's kid's alive. It's my fault that they got what they wanted. If it hadn't been for me…"

Dean cleared his throat. "What the hell are you talking about?" he finally asked.

Sam reminded himself that Dean didn't know, that he had no clue that Sam had met him and his father before, that Sam was there when the alpha and his father had gotten wounded by the werewolves.

"I was there." Sam's voice was thin. "In the woods. I don't remember how and why exactly, but I was there. I was following you and John. It was a trap. John wanted me to be there too… I think I followed you guys because John didn't pay attention to the warning I've gave him the night before." Sam paused, thinking, trying to recall bits and pieces of memories that he hadn't quite seen in his flashback. "I've … I've no idea what I did, or how, I remember that I did something to warn you and him. But the next night you both took off from the motel and I knew you both would go into the woods and hunt that werewolf. So I followed."

Dean stopped petting the younger man's hair, but his hand kept resting right above his temple.

Sam paused again. "And then everything went south. He jumped me. And then… I remember one of the wolves dragging your father away and me shooting the other one. I remember carrying you to the car and driving and… I remember standing in the door to your room at the hospital and watching you. I remember getting your father away from the wolf's den and … dumping him at a hospital two states over … I don't even know why I'd do that. Why I'd drive that far to get him help. I only remember that I had to be somewhere … I … Dean..."

The omega took a deep inhale. "This person… I'm not him. I… I don't understand why and how he'd feel the way he felt in those flashbacks. I can't imagine being him..."

The ex-hunter let that revelation sink in, as he remained silent. Millions of thoughts and memories flooding his mind, trying to find something – anything – that would prove Sam's story to him. But there was nothing. Dean couldn't remember anything in between getting clawed half to death and waking up at the hospital with Bobby by his side.

The silence continued.

"Garth gave me a folder with stuff when he came here." Dean didn't look down at the younger man, though he felt him gaze up at him. "He thought to find out more about you than anyone else." He still didn't look down, but felt the shift in Sam's mood and smelled the sour stench of horror mix into his mate's scent. "I didn't believe him at first. I thought he was reading more into your backstory than he should have..." He paused briefly. "But now… I'm not that sure anymore."

Sam continued to look up at him as if the alpha would say something real bad very soon.

"I could show you the file, but I don't think that that's a good idea. Those flashbacks… with the seizures… that's not healthy." The ex-hunter's gaze was trained at the TV, though he didn't pay the thing much attention. "I don't want to trigger them…" The older man seemed to think.

Sam let him, continuing to stare up at him, until he eventually continued.

"I know someone who'll be able to help with that," Dean finally said. "She's a real mamma-bear and actually very nice. IF she likes you." He pursed his lips, thinking for another moment. "I'll call Missouri. Maybe she can help." … Since Jim couldn't, he continued in his mind.

It wasn't that Jim wasn't good enough or something. It was more because no regular doctor would be able to find something. And on top of all of that, Sam couldn't tell those people – unknowing people – what he had endured and what his flashbacks were about.

He pulled his hand away from Sam's head and the omega froze. The lack of warmth and comfort was gone from one moment to another and he – because of his own turmoil of thoughts and emotions – wasn't able to read the Winchester.

Fear that Dean would reject him flared up in his mind and made his heart hammer against his chest achingly hard. He wasn't afraid that the alpha would lock him up, or even kill him. He feared that he wouldn't want him close to him anymore; that he'd think of Sam as some freak. A monster. Maybe even worse …

The younger man's breath caught in his throat when Dean laid his hands on him and pushed him up into a sitting position. The ex-hunter looked him in the eyes, his gaze stern, and his jaw set.

Then his hands were back in Sam's face, cupping his pale cheeks, warming them.

"I don't want you to even THINK that you're a monster, Sam." The alpha's voice was so unbelievably soft, in the very contrast to his features. "If what I think who you are is right, then you're a hero. Then you've saved hundreds of hunter's lives so far. You saved MINE without even knowing me. You've saved my father's, even when he tried to kill you." He paused, waiting for Sam to give him a sign that he understood. Only when the younger man nodded, he continued: "I don't care what you were before. Or whomever you think you were. You're mine. Period."

He didn't add that even if Sam had been a crazy serial killer in the past, he couldn't care less. Whatever it was that Sam was seemingly afraid of to find out, they would deal with it and Dean would fix it. No matter what it was, or what it would do to Sam, they would fix it.

The omega blinked tears away, trying not to burst into tears and sobs, which were scratching at the back of his throat.

"You'll see. Missouri will know what to do. She'll know how to stop those flashbacks and she may even know what your visions mean." Of course they already knew what they meant, but there were still bits and pieces missing and maybe, if she could bring back Sam's memories, they would get to know some more details and how to end it.

Though, Sam was the most important.

It was Sam who needed to be fixed.

"You understand?" Dean's eyes were huge and clear as the stormy sea. He rubbed with his thump along Sam's cheekbone. "Just because my father thinks different, or even if Bobby thinks different. I don't care. And yeah. You are special. That's a fact. A fact you can be proud off. If what's in Garth's file about the person you've been before is true, I'm proud that you chose me. You understand? It means my…. you're a hero. You're a legend." Dean smiled warmly at him. Of course, he had wanted to say mate, and they were mates, but technically they weren't yet.

Mates – like Dean wanted to be with his omega – would have sex. And they hadn't that yet. So calling Sam his mate – in that specific way he meant it – was a no-go. If he said it out loud, he feared he would be disappointed if Sam didn't want THAT.

Sam closed his eyes. Let the other man's words sink in. He curled his fingers around Dean's wrists, just holding onto them, no force in his touch.

"I can't be him. I … the things I remember. The things I see… that's not me anymore."

"People change due the things they live through. Then you're a retired hero and I'm completely cool with that, too. You won't just disappear from one moment to other to save someone's life and get yourself in danger. I'm completely fine with that." Now the ex-hunter was grinning cockily at his mate.

Sam blew out a wet laugh and sniffed. He had to smile, too, now.

"See?" Dean came closer, until their faces were mere inches apart. "I like you better when you're smilin'," he whispered against the omega's soft lips before he sealed them over his.

~ '67 Chevrolet Impala ~

One man, one word.

Dean called the psychic the same afternoon and she told him that she'd be there on Thursday.

What actually meant that they had two days to go until help would arrive.

That evening, Bobby called and let Dean know that John would stay for a couple of days. The old man sure hoped that he and John would deal and get back on track with their father-son relationship. Though, Robert Singer knew that it wasn't that easy. He knew both men too well to even suspect either of them going easy on the other one, nor that either John or Dean would give in.

It wasn't in the Winchesters genes anyway.

Bobby was pissed, too. Mostly because of John being such a dick and leaving Dean behind at that hospital instead of staying with him. But that was John.

Everything for the job.

It wasn't like John didn't care about his son.

Only god knew what was going on in that head of his…

Bobby's problem was that he knew John since about two months after his wife Mary and Dean's younger brother Adam had died in that fire. He knew what the man had gone through and what kept his drunken ass fighting.

Which made it even harder to judge him.

~ '67 Chevrolet Impala ~

The next day came and went, without Sam having a seizure all day. Dean was practically waiting for the other shoe to drop so he didn't leave his mate out under his sight the whole damn day.

Now it was evening and they had had lunch only half an hour ago. Dean had watched Sam in wonder, Sam eating his serving and a second one, too. Obviously he liked Bobby's Spaghetti Bolognese with loads of beef and vegetables with those funny twisted noodles. Which were also from Bobby.

Right now, they sat on the couch and were watching TV.

Dean hadn't been up to much, anyway. His hip, thigh, knee, and calf were giving him hell since the very second he had opened his eyes this morning. Not even the Vicodin would help him dull the worst of his aches, so he had spent most of the day wherever lying or sitting around.

Not even standing was a serious option.

He first had tried to hide it from Sam, but the omega wasn't stupid. Besides the fact that he could scent how Dean was feeling, he also could clearly see it.

There were deep lines of pain carving into his face.

They had had planned to go out for dinner today. Dean had booked a table for the both of them in a nice Chinese restaurant in the center of Sioux Falls. He had planned to take Sam out and let both of them have a nice time. He wanted to show him something else as the small diner. He wanted to get him into contact with other places. Other people.

So of course he had booked a table at the very back of Chai Tan's and had talked to Tan Bing – the owner, a small old lady in her eighties – informing her about their situation.

Bobby once got rid of a ghost for her, so she was glad to help out and offer them a calm table.

Yeah, Bobby Singer may was the town drunk to most of those people, but a hand full of them – the important ones – knew about his job and how he saved their lives every now and then.

Dean had canceled the booking during the early afternoon, assuming that his leg wouldn't get any better.

Sam had seemed kind of sad, but got over it pretty well, it looked like. The omega soon had a plan about what they would cook and what they would watch.

Actually, his mate seemed relieved that it didn't work as planned.

Sam insisted on cooking, too. Which ended in a complete disaster. He burnt two perfectly shaped rib eye steaks. And the potato wedges weren't fully grilled, too.

The omega had been devastated – so to say. But not for long. Obviously he was one for solving problems – and fast.

Bobby had literally been their savior, since they hadn't had anything left at home to eat.

Dean had popped another Vicodin while Sam was cleaning up the mess in the kitchen.

Currently, the alpha was lying on the couch, his upper body propped up against the side, his head tilted back, his legs in Sam's lap, who massaged his calf carefully, which actually brought some relief to his aching muscles and joints. Those giant hands felt unbelievably gentle and tender while prodding into the usually hurting areas.

The ex-hunter hummed low and let his eyes flutter shut. Sam smiled to himself while he watched the Winchester and wandered further up towards Dean's thigh.

"You're perfect," Dean murmured. "That's… awesome."

Sam grinned from one ear to the other. For once he had the feeling that he could actually do something useful. If it meant that he had to massage his alpha's leg the whole upcoming night he'd do it.

Dean Winchester made another comfortable sound in the back of his throat and chest, which sounded a lot like a low rumble. Though, he seemed to get uncomfortable, as he started to shift every now and then.

Sam stole glances at the ex-hunter until he had enough. Even when both of them seemed to enjoy their time in front of the TV, Sam sensed the ex-hunter's discomfort.

"What do you say? You wanna head to bed?" Sam let go of the alpha's denim-clad calf and stroke over it fondly.

Dean tilted his head up, neck stiff as hell, shoulders tense and sore. He stretched his arms over his head and flexed his muscles. The alpha squinted at the clock beside the TV and groaned.

"Ain't that late yet," he grumbled in retort. It read half past eight p.m.

"I'm tired." Sam truly sounded exhausted. "Let's have an early night, huh? Get showered and… in bed." He wiggled his eyebrows at him and poked Dean in the side, batting long lashes at the other man – obviously trying to be sexy.

Well, Sam definitely was sexy, but somehow it looked a bit funny.

"Well then." Dean made an uncomfortable sound when he sat up awkwardly. "Lets get a shower and in bed, baby boy."

Sam leaned in, his hands on Dean's neck and his lips sealed over Dean's, pushing him back into the back rest of the couch. The next moment, Sam was in the alpha's lap. To the ex-hunter's surprise, Sam was all tongue and teeth and a bit demanding.

The alpha let him have his way and kissed back, biting the omega's bottom lip.

When they parted, both were breathlessly panting into each other's mouths.

"What was that for?" the ex-hunter mumbled.

"I wanted to." Sam smiled mischievously.

Dean's gaze searched his face. "Yeah?"

"Yeah … Baby." Of course the omega had to grow bold.

The alpha tilted his head back and cocked an eyebrow at the younger man. "You callin' me baby?" There was a hint of disbelief in his voice.

"You call me nicknames all the time." Sam leaned back and cocked an eyebrow, too, mirroring his mate.

"Doesn't mean that you're allowed to call me nicknames." Dean was a dork, and sometimes he could be pretty domestic. He even sounded serious about that. Only the slightly amused glint in his eyes let on, that he didn't mean it all that serious though.

"How about… I call you sugar plum?" And of course Sam couldn't or wouldn't shut up. "Or…" He said as he was thinking.

"You call me another name, and I'll spank your perky ass raw, sweetheart. Trust me on this." Dean shoved him off his lap and tackled him backwards, so that Sam was lying flat on his back, giggling and snorting.

"You'd really spank me?" Sam didn't believe one word.

Dean crawled over the man and kissed along his jaw. "Maybe I would," he breathed into Sam's ear. "Maybe I wouldn't."

Sam nudged the older man in the ribs. "You wouldn't." He had to giggle again, when Dean's finger prodded into his side.

"Only if you asked," Dean snorted and dodged another one of Sam's poke-attacks. He gave him a promising gaze.

Their gazes locked over the short distance. Both men stilled, panting slightly.

Sam bucked his hips up against Dean's and bit his lower lip.

He bucked up into his mate's crotch again and wrapped his long legs around Dean's waist loosely, pulling him in close. Sam tilted his head to the side and licked over his lower lip, blinking his long lashes at the alpha above him.

"Sammy," Dean moaned and squeezed his eyes shut tightly, trying to withstand the urge to grind back down into him.

"Yeah?" the omega breathed.

Dean's eyes opened. "C'mon, baby boy." Dean smiled down at him warmly. "Let's grab a shower and head to bed."

The omega gazed up at him partly curious and confused, his expression bleeding into something different. More irritated.

"I don't think you're ready for this," Dean finally spoke up, his voice calm and soothing. He knew exactly what Sam was thinking. What he was feeling. What he wanted. And he'd be a bad liar if he said that he didn't feel the same, that he didn't want Sam to … do THAT. But he also knew that Sam wasn't ready, that he couldn't be ready.

Not after all the things that happened to him and not after enduring that kind of abuse Sam had been through.

Sam's cheeks flushed and he looked aside, embarrassed. He might not wanted to have sex, per se, but he wanted to give Dean something more than just rubbing against each other and touching through fabric.

At least he had tried …

"Okay." He wouldn't even look up at Dean He felt so ashamed for even thinking about offering that to his mate. All of a sudden he felt dirty and… oh god… like a slut. Like he was offering this to Dean because he thought he had to pay him.

Well, it actually was like that though.

Sam wanted this. Okay, he may wasn't sure if he really wanted to get naked in front of the alpha and those things. But he wanted to try. He wanted to know how it'd feel and … maybe he was only curious.

But then again…

"Don't do this, Sammy." Dean stroked his face, still wearing this calm smile. "I want it to be right, okay? Besides… I couldn't do shit with my hip and knee right now, so..." He winked at Sam and put on that cocky smirk of his.

He drew Sam's gaze at him when he laid his fingertips on the omega's cheek and brushed over it. "I don't want you to do it that way. Not when you think you take it as a way to pay me for giving you a place to live. We're equals in this."

It was frightening how the alpha could look into Sam's mind and take away his secrets and fears – just like that.

Sam gave him a jerky nod.

Dean was right. He might want to try the one thing or another, but he wasn't entirely sure if he wouldn't freak out and freak Dean out by freaking out. So maybe his alpha was right.

Maybe they should take it slow – as if they hadn't taken it slow so far, had they?

"Shower?" Sam asked and gave him a nervous smile.

"Together?" Dean asked back.

They haven't showered together so far. Hell, they haven't even seen each other naked yet either. Though, this might was a good start.

Sam's eyes widened in anticipation. "But..." His face fell the very next moment, his scent becoming a bit sour. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again.

"We're taking it slow, sunshine," Dean assured him and sat up with a groan. "What'd you say?" It wasn't like he wanted to make Sam take a shower with him. He had rather meant it as a compromise.

Sam hesitated. "What I ..," his voice broke, "... I… Maybe…"

"You'll see it's nice. I'll make it good." Dean's voice had dropped an octave. "I won't even touch you, okay? Just showering and nothing else. I won't even look." Okay, the last promise may was a bit of completely impossible given that Sam was one hell of a handsome looker.

The omega searched his alpha's face for quite some time before giving him a jerky nod.

Why the hell was he cool with getting naked on the couch with Dean, but not in the shower? Actually it was the same thing, right? So why would he freak out over something like that?

Dean then got up – rather awkwardly – and guided Sam into their bedroom, where he switched the lights on. The ex-hunter limped to the closet and retrieved two pajama bottoms and two tees, while Sam stood next to the bathroom door waiting.

The omega's hands were shaking slightly and he swallowed thickly when Dean limped past him and into the bathroom, where he put the clothes in the sink where they wouldn't get wet. He then stepped back outside and grasped Sam's hand, tugging him with inside him.

Dean turned the hot water on and then started to strip, while Sam only stood there and stared at him with wide eyes.

They had NEVER gotten undressed or dressed in front of each other.

It wasn't like Sam didn't like what he saw. He liked it very much. All tanned skin stretching over muscles and a bit of baby-fat under Dean's belly.

Dean was down to his boxers when he gazed up at his fully dressed mate. First he looked thoughtful, but then there grew a warm smile all over his face, and adoration in his eyes and he straightened up. He walked over to Sam and let his hands drop onto the man's waist.

"C'mon. I won't bite. Promise." And he wouldn't say more. Dean simply turned around, brushed his boxers off, and sauntered to the shower stall, where he pulled the curtain aside and stepped in.

Sam stood there, like frozen, for a very long time.

Eventually, the omega started to shed his clothes too, until each piece of fabric was gone. He stepped out of his boxer-briefs and made a hesitant step towards the shower. Then he stopped again, thinking.

He could still back out. That was why Dean left him to it and disappeared into the shower in the first place.

Sam's lips twitched. The alpha was really cute and patient about all of his issues …

Finally – eventually – Sam managed to overcome himself and follow Dean into the shower stall.

Then…

…. Nothing happened. The both of them showered, switching places under the hot stream of water, until the both of them were squeaky clean. Each one dried himself off and got dressed, stealing gazes at each other in the process, of course, because neither of them was able to hold off from the other one.

They then slipped into their bed and under the covers after switching the lights off. Sam curled up against Dean's side, since the ex-hunter couldn't lie on either his left or right side when his leg hurt. But he had an arm under Sam's neck and held him close.

~ '67 Chevrolet Impala ~

Dean eventually fell asleep. So did Sam.

Though not for long.

Two hours into the night, the omega awoke to whimpers and pain-filled moans from beside him. First he hadn't realized what it was that ripped him out of his sleep, but when he felt Dean's sweat soaked shirt against his bare forearm, and when he felt the shivering, he knew.

Another whimper fell from the ex-hunter's lips.

"Dean?" Sam murmured sleep-drunken.

The ex-hunter mumbled something unintelligible.

"I'll go get your pills." Sam sniffed and struggled to free himself from the messed up sheets. He then rolled out of bed and made his way through the darkness into the kitchen, searching blindly through the counter above the sink, he eventually found what he was looking for.

Dean always kept a bottle of his medicine there, just in case he wouldn't find the one he carried around all the time. Sam shook two of them into his open palm. He then got a small bottle of water and unscrewed it before he made his way back into the bedroom.

Dean was obviously still asleep, uncomfortable and uneasy, as far as Sam could see. He padded over the wooden floor right to beside Dean's side of the bed and put the water onto the nightstand.

He himself, still sleep-dazed too, didn't think about giving a guy a warning. Sam bowed over his mate, his eyes half open.

"Dean," Sam said hoarsely and laid the hand in which he wasn't holding the pills, on the alpha's cheek. He was about to rub with his thump over the older man's cheekbone, just like he had done it to Sam so many times to comfort him, when it happened.

Sam hadn't been fast enough.

Of course, he didn't know about the rules when it came to waking a hunter in the middle of the night. At least not that he could remember them anyway.

Surely it wasn't a good idea to hover over him. So close, barely inches apart. Nor was it his best shot, to stroke the man's face, even when it was an attempt to soothe and comfort him. After all, even if Dean Winchester wasn't a hunter of the supernatural anymore, you couldn't do THAT. It had something to do with instincts, sharpened due years of dealing with creatures that'd sneak up on you while you'd be asleep.

A sharp intake of air was heard.

The sound of a knife sliding out from its sheath and cutting through the air, disturbing the peaceful silence of the night.

Silver gleamed up in the spare light of the half moon, that's beams were shining through the white curtains.

And what followed was a surprised, though definitely pained cry, jolting the hunter right back into the here and now.

"Sammy," Dean Winchester gasped as he caught sight of a pair of terrified and pained huge hazel eyes staring at him in disbelief.

… to be continued

I know I'm a mad woman. And I'm sorry (not sorry) for leaving you like this. Some of you asked me for more action … so it's nothing major, okay? That much I can tell you guys …

TEASER:

Chapter 24 ~ Visitors

"Talk to me." Dean's voice broke, his hands shaking.

The omega wouldn't answer. He just stared wide-eyed at Dean, holding his breath.

"Are you hurt?" he demanded to know. "Sam?"

Sam blew out a shaky breath. He didn't know. Was he actually hurt? Did Dean… No… he didn't feel anything right now. There was no pain, was there?

Sam blinked up at those incredibly green circles. There were freckles and lines of terror and panic around them. He opened his mouth to answer "no", but he couldn't muster a single word.

"Sammy," Dean repeated over and over again, as his hands searched him frantically. "Shit, Talk to me, baby boy."