Chapter 5

Dean pulled up to the motel parking lot and didn't see the manager sitting in the front office. He narrowed his eyes and immediately headed to Korey's motel room. He hated being proved right when he saw the shadow trying to slip into Korey's room. He sped into the parking spot then slammed the gear shift into park. He was out of the car before it stopped rolling.

He grabbed the manager's collar and slammed him into the wall next to the door. He punched the weasel in the face then in the gut. He stopped when he heard her voice.

"Dean? What's going on? Why is the door open? Who-?" she paused as she finally saw the man Dean had pinned to the wall.

Dean pulled the man up the wall by the collar until the man's face was even with his. "This is your last warning. Step within six yards of this woman again and you won't have to worry about the cops. Actually you won't ever have to worry about anything ever again," Dean promised menacingly. "Are we clear?"

The manager nodded his head vigorously. Dean tossed him toward the office, away from Korey's door. Dean watched him stumble to his feet then take off running.

"Dean?" Korey called to him but he didn't turn back to her until the manager was out of sight.

He glanced at her and his heart stopped. His over shirt was the only thing covering her body. With a great deal of effort, he forced himself to check the area for witnesses. Luckily, no one else was out. He growled softly, "Get back inside. I'll be in as soon as I lock up the car. Then we'll talk."

She frowned at him slightly but went back inside while he took care of business. He checked the area one last time before he headed into the room with his duffel. They definitely needed more clothes, or rather, she did.

He tossed his duffel on the table then locked and bolted the door before checking the windows again. Once he checked everything, he started sorting through his duffel and found a pair of sweatpants. He chucked it at her and started, "Here. You can use these until the rest of your clothes dry. And here," he continued as he handed her the wallet he found.

"You found it," she exclaimed and hugged him tightly.

He automatically placed his hands on her hips before he could stop himself. She pulled back slightly and stared up at him so trustingly. He couldn't stop himself from lowering his head slightly, intent on kissing her. He barely stopped himself at the last minute. He swallowed hard then told her softly, "You're welcome. No offense but you probably should back up a little if you want me to finish."

"Finish what?" she breathed into his face.

Her breath smelled so sweet and minty. He sighed softly then mentally stumbled to remember her question. He barely shook his head and forced himself to take a step back. His hands stayed around her waist but he could almost think now. She'd asked him something. What did she ask him?

"What?" he asked thickly.

"What do you need to finish, Dean?" She repeated huskily. "Why are you here? I thought you had another job."

Thankfully his mind could still work, just not at full capacity. He swallowed again, trying to counter his dry mouth. "Finish? Oh, yeah, talking. Uh, that job got cancelled." Then he smirked self-mockingly. "Actually, I wasn't fast enough and got replaced." He added under his breath, "Again."

He shook off that feeling and continued stronger, "Anyway, I figured that I could still help you out. Honestly, I felt like crap dropping you off here. I knew that creep of a manager couldn't be trusted. Yeah, I'm very relieved I was replaced."

"Now, I need you to tell me everything you know about this kidnapping if you want me to help you," he instructed firmly.

She smiled blindingly up at him and whispered gratefully, "Thank you so much, Dean. I don't know what I'd do without you. You are a really good man."

He scoffed lightly and argued, "You have low standards then."

"Why did you say that?"

"If you had any idea what I was thinking about right now, you'd know," Dean muttered.

She kept smiling then countered, "How do you know that I'm not thinking the same thing?"
Dean felt his body jump in arousal at that innuendo. At that point, nothing could stop his kiss. His lips gently slid over hers and his tongue lightly darted out to taste the fullness. She sighed and parted her lips, allowing his tongue to slip into her mouth. He drank her taste in and loved it. He reached up and placed his hand at the back of her head to tilt it at the right angle.

He moaned with desire and gripped her tightly against him when she returned his moan. He molded her to his body and only pulled back when he had to breathe again. He gently kissed his way down her neck.

"Oh, Dean," Korey sighed then whispered, "You sure know how to kiss."

"Damn straight," Dean agreed against her neck as his hands lowered to rest on her firm rear end. He pulled her up against his hardness and groaned with pleasure. He felt his arousal thicken more.

"Wow, what's that?" Korey cooed. "That really feels good."

It took Dean a few minutes for her words to penetrate his aroused upper brain. Something bothered him about her question. He blinked and prodded between kisses, "What do you mean, 'what's that?'"

Korey moaned softly and moved seductively against Dean's hips. "What's that? I meant, well, I mean, I know what it is but . . . can I see it?"

"Of course," he replied automatically but felt the frown clouding his expression. "Wait a minute. What- . . . I mean, haven't . . . you?" Dean trailed off, fumbling with his words.

Korey reached for the top of his jeans while she answered, "Haven't I what? Done this before?" Dean nodded as his hands met hers at the top of his jeans. "Actually, no, I haven't. Was kind of . . .," she trailed off with a blush as her eyes focused on their hands.

"Kind of what?" Dean demanded slightly harsher than he meant to. He was very aroused but he was getting the feeling that this wasn't going to happen tonight. Of course, that was what he had originally planned before she threw her arms around him.

"Sounds silly," she sulked slightly, keeping her head down.

He inhaled a deep breath and slowly forced his body back another step. "You're saving yourself, aren't you?" She flushed more and he sighed heavily while he pulled her hands off his pants. "Look, Korey, I'm definitely not the one and I'll never be the one. That's just not me and never will be. Don't waste something special like that on me. Really."

He dropped her hands and turned away to get his body under control. He heard her sniffle and rolled his eyes. Please don't let her cry. Please don't let her be crying.

He turned back and saw the tears. He never could take tears. He almost growled in irritation but managed to beat it down like everything else he had to. He reached over and enclosed her in a hug. He pulled her over to the bed and sat them both on it. He gently rubbed her back like he used to comfort Sammy.

"Listen, Korey, now isn't really the time for this anyway. I mean what kind of scum . . .," he trailed off, realizing he'd almost been that scum. He changed his argument, "You are tired, worried sick about your sister and looking for comfort. I can and will give you comfort but not this way. I know you think I'm a good person but you don't even know me so let's make a deal, okay?"

She peeked up at him hesitantly and he gently brushed her tears away. "How about," he suggested, "we just rest tonight and after we get your sister back, we can look at maybe finishing this then. Okay? Deal?"

She smiled weakly and allowed a soft whisper, "Deal." They shook hands.

He sighed in relief then strongly suggested, "Put the sweats on while I get changed. We need to get started early tomorrow." He got up and rechecked the doors before getting ready for bed. He didn't have another pair of sweats so he just put on a clean pair of jeans and a t-shirt. It wasn't the most comfortable for sleeping but he'd slept in worse.

When he came out of the bathroom, all the lights were off except the one by the bed. He put his stuff away and moved toward the chair by the bed. He'd planned on sleeping there tonight. He started to sit down when he heard her.

"No, Dean," she argued, then scooted over in the bed. "We both need a good night's sleep so come on in. I mean we are both fully clothed and know nothing's happening, right?" She saw him hesitant then held up her right hand, "Look, I promise to leave you unharmed."

Dean rolled his eyes but smiled as he snarked softly, "It's not me I'm worried about being harmed." But he went ahead and climbed into the bed, sensing her desire to be held.

They snuggled up against each other and he held her against his chest. She smiled against it. As they drifted off together, she whispered softly, "I'm glad you're here, Dean." He squeezed her shoulder slightly in response.

In spite of her promise, he had to fend off her unconscious desires more than once, giving Dean less rest than if he'd slept in the chair.

Pain throbbed through his body, prodding him into a very unpleasant form of consciousness. Why was this type of awakening such a norm for him? He grumbled internally to himself. He reached for his knife under his pillow and was filled with relief when he felt it. Why would that relieve him? He questioned himself. He'd slept with it since he was eight and his father first gave it to him so why . . .?

He knew deep down that he had to completely wake up now. Too many questions and thoughts were swirling around in his head. He slowly forced his eyes open only to feel light stab through them and into his skull. His heartfelt groan sounded before he could stop it.

"Quiet now. You're safe, Dean," a soft female voice stated softly by his ear. It was comforting but the soft caressing touch caused an involuntary flinch and whimper to escape him. His body struggled to force itself away from the touch.

"Sorry," the voice consoled as the touch slid away. He felt the reluctance and heard the apology but his mind had already taken him back to that awful place. He clenched his eyes closed as he fought against the memories.

His arms arched from being yanked harshly then suspended. The thick rope holding him up was suspended for a crossbeam near the ceiling. It was too thick to really work and his hands had already gone numb. His head pounded, signaling another concussion or severe hangover. Possibly both judging from the pain. The urge to throw up was debilitating.

He swallowed hard against the bile and glanced down to take inventory. Goosebumps coated his entire body and confirmed the total absence of clothes. He was completely bare with cuts and bruises already showing. His eyes stilled with shocked dread when they encountered the painted design below his feet.

He was trussed up inside a freakin' summoning circle. There was no way in any realm of the supernatural that this could be good in any stretch of his imagination. He surged into motion trying to get any play or space to work his way out of this crap situation.

Then the door opened and they approached him swiftly. The witches. They glided, twisted and turned in no way that should be natural. All the way they chanted softly before slowly speeding up the intensity. Their hands touched, caressed, pinched, grabbed, and fondled him in ways that gave him massive shivers of fear and disgust. Pain came with it as they sliced, beat, and whipped him over what seemed like days, maybe even weeks, starting with a symbol that took up most of his torso and the upper inside of his thighs. That carving only increased his already off the scale panic, disgust and blood loss, weakening him even further.

He couldn't escape them and willed his body not to respond but it wasn't under his control. It responded to them no matter how much they hurt him, no matter how much he fought it, no matter how much he hated them. They covered him with blood, his, theirs, and he didn't know what else. Coatings of various bodily fluids eventually warmed him or maybe that was a fever that began to burn within him. They used him in ways that made him feel even more dirty, disgusting, like he could never be clean again.

Finally his hands were released and he fell down into the hated circle. His body ached and burned with pain and fire the likes of which he'd never felt before. Then he saw the sacrifice tied up at the altar in front of him.

Inside he burned with the need to take his sacrifice, his prize, with an animalistic ferocity. Her crying face and pleas didn't reach him because he was blocked behind this powerful need. He knew he'd stop hurting the minute he took her.

He felt something in the back of his mind rebel at these thoughts and fought to beat it down. No, beating it down wouldn't work. He had to kill it, and kill it now. Then he would be whole, free, take the pleasure of the sacrifice.

He growled low in his throat, fighting the small insignificant speck in the back of his mind. He stumbled toward the sacrificial altar and actually tripped over his own feet on the way. He vaguely felt the impact of the dirty farmhouse floor on his cheek and against his left shoulder which was apparently already hurt, considering the pain that flared at the impact. Instinctively, his right hand shoved everything out of his way in an attempt to brace his sore shoulder.

As debris fell over the outline of the circle, he felt the air warp around it. Something happened to the seal, the wall of the circle. He narrowed his eyes and saw that a heavy stone had skidded its way out of the circle, causing a fracture in the bloodline. Blood red rage filled his body with white hot satisfaction flare over the punishment he could now deal to these obnoxiously ignorant mortals. The witches were now his!

"Dean!"

He jolted back to consciousness and his eyes flew open then blinked rapidly at that searing pain of light. He vaguely realized he was in another motel room before his mind left him again. Breath shuddered in his trembling body which tried to assume a fetal position. He barely moved before more pain stabbed him in his chest and torso.

"Dean, lay still. Please," the soft voice pleaded.

He closed his eyes briefly as he tried to focus on the here and now. He partly opened his eyes to make out the figure sitting on the bed next to him. It took him a moment before he remembered who the person was. "Korey?" he rasped out in a very weak voice.

She gave a weak smile before she moved a bottle of water near him. It had a straw bent at the top and she placed the straw on top of his lips with the order, "Drink. Slowly. I will answer any questions you have after."

He kept his breathing slow and shallow as he followed her instructions. The clear liquid felt like ambrosia to his parched throat. He choked briefly after the first couple of swallows then got almost a third of the bottle down before she took it away.

She smiled softly at his automatic plea for more and cautioned, "You've been very ill for the past few days. It will take some time for you to work food and water back into your system. We should have taken you to a hospital but . . ."

"It's good," he dismissed weakly. "How bad?"

She studied him for a moment then prodded, "How much do you remember?"

He flinched self-consciously then answered slowly, "I remember finding the cellar and getting her out then . . ."

"Then what?"

"Then," he rasped, then paused to wet his lips. "Don't know. Everything went . . . dark . . . and fuzzy."

She narrowed her eyes at him and knew better. She called him on it by insisting, "You remember more."

He winced but finally admitted, "Images. Flashes. Can't make much sense . . . We did save her, didn't we?"

She sighed heavily before she finally answered, "Yes and no. We did get her out but they caught you two escaping. I wasn't in time to stop you from being taken. I watched where they set up the ritual."

"I was a part of it," he realized with dread.

She nodded sadly. "Yes. The ritual couldn't take place until the full moon so they used the time to prepare you and my sister."

His eyes followed hers as they took in the bandages on his chest and he closed his eyes to hold back the emotions that threatened. He remembered the carvings and other things. He drew in a shaky breath then asked the hardest question, "Am I still me?"

She met his intense gaze unflinchingly and nodded before verbally affirming, "You are still you. The ritual called for a willing sacrifice and an unwilling one. They didn't pay attention to that part. You both were unwilling so you fought the possession and disrupted the summoning circle. It gave me and my friends enough time and access to exorcise Ashodeus out of you."

"And your sister?"

"She is safe, thanks to you," she replied with gratitude. She reached out and touched his cheek softly while smiling at him. "I owe you so much."

He knew who was touching him this time and knew how he should react but his body wasn't listening to him. He flinched at the touch and tried to unobtrusively shift away. His skin crawled underneath itself, running away from the touch. He'd never known the true meaning of unclean until now. He couldn't tell if left over from the demon or the witches, probably both.

Her features fell and he knew she'd seen his reaction. He glanced away and heard her sigh heavily, "Guess we won't be finishing things between us, huh?"

It took him a while but he finally remembered what he'd promised her the night before they rescued her sister. God, that seemed so very long ago. He wished he could go back and do things over but knew that it would have probably ended up this way anyway.

"You did very well, Dean," she commended, seeming to know his thoughts. "Not many could out will a demon like you did. I know if it had been anyone else been the sacrifice, my sister would probably be dead now. So, really, thank you."

He gave a very weak smirk but couldn't help asking, "It will scar, won't it?" She followed his thinking and nodded. "Does that mean . . . will he come back? Will I still be . . . am I. . .?"

"Still his to possess?" She finished for him. She stared at him for a long thoughtful moment then answered, "During the final fight, the sigil was cut so it would probably depend on the resulting scar. We could make sure it's broken if you want."

"Oh, I definitely want," he insisted with the firmest voice he had to date.

She narrowed her eyes and verified, "Even if it involves more pain?"

"To keep that bastard out? Definitely," he reaffirmed adamantly.

She nodded and counseled, "I will confer with my sister and figure out what we need to do. We will be back in touch soon."

"What do I . . . "

"Rest. Your friend will be here soon to take over."

"Friend?"

"Ahh . . . Derek, I believe."

"What's he . . .

"When you didn't answer your cell after a few days, he headed to town to find you. He thought that you might be in trouble,"

"He's such a girl."

"Doubtful and in light of the circumstances, he's probably the better person to stay with you right now," she advised. "Is there a problem with him doing that?"

"He doesn't know, okay?"

"He knew about my sister, her disappearance and the fact that you were helping me."

"He doesn't know what I do. The supernatural stuff and I want it to stay that way," Dean snapped irritably. "No one needs to know about that, especially because they are stupid enough to . . ."

"To what?" she questioned with narrowed eyes. "To care about you? To be your friend?"

"Yatzee," Dean snarked. "We have a winner."

She rolled her eyes at his foolishness and informed him, "Derek only left to get us some food. He will be back soon. He knows you tried to rescue her and that you got caught by the kidnappers. Your injuries resulted from that confrontation. They also caused the fever that left you unable to answer the phone until I noticed it ringing."

"What about when he changes the bandages and sees?"

"You don't know that they will all scar and if they do, you know as well as I how crazy people are. You are making issues where there are none," she snapped irritably. "Why can you not let your friend do this for you?"

"Because it will get him killed!"

"How?"

"I don't know but sooner or later if he is around me he will die."

"Your family is not dead," she pointed out logically.

"Might as well be," he muttered then mentally kicked himself for allowing such a self-pitying thought. "Never mind. I'm tired. Leave me alone."

She sighed again then cocked her head to the side like she was listening to something. After a moment, he also heard the vehicle pull up outside the motel. She looked at him and commented, "They are back so we will be leaving."

The motel room door opened before he could respond. He turned slightly to avoid the bright light then turned back when the room returned to normal light. He couldn't help a small smile when he caught sight of Derek's huge grin. No man should have such a boyish grin. No wonder he looked dorky like that.

"About time, Sleeping Beauty. I was about to put out an ad for Prince Charming so that you would wake up," Derek teased lightly.

Dean rolled his eyes and returned, "Jealous much? Just cause I got all the looks and the brains to go with it?"

"That why you're letting people use it as a punching bag," Derek growled. "Not really sure about the brains at this point either."

"Just trying to come down to your level, dork," Dean taunted. "Didn't want you to turn to green with envy. That never works out for you male model types."

"Well, I can see I definitely made the right choice for caretaker and you're welcome," Korey interrupted. "Sister and I will be leaving now."

Derek set the food on the table and Dean finally got a glimpse of the small girl hiding behind him. She didn't look old enough to have gone through what she did, no older than possibly sixteen. She was a knockout though, just like her sister. She had the same coloring and everything.

Korey stood up and moved to give her sister a reassuring hug. While Dean slowly tried to sit up, he knew he wasn't going to make it when the pain tried to slice him in half. Before he could fall all the way back, he felt Derek's strong hands help him sit up slightly and readjust his pillows to support him. Dean had to admit that for such a built man, Derek did have a gentle side.

Once Derek got him settled, Dean glanced up and mumbled, "Thanks, Derek."

"No problem," Derek returned with a cheeky grin before he asked, "hungry?"

"A little."

"Got some soup and before you grumble like you did last time, that's all that's on the menu today. Behave and you'll get hamburgers tomorrow," Derek bargained.

Korey argued firmly, "I told you soup for a week and I mean it."

"Shhhh," Derek hissed. "I'm trying to keep him calm. You told me to do that too. Remember?" Derek turned back to Dean and winked at him, causing Dean to bite his bottom lip slightly to keep from laughing.

Korey stalked over to the bed and glared at both of them. Her sister had been towed along by Korey's hand. Korey snapped, "You're both lucky I'm in a good mood or . . ."

"Please," her sister begged softly. "He saved me."

Korey glanced at her sister then turned back to Dean. She pursed her lips thoughtfully and finally nodded. She ordered, "Derek, hold him still."

"What- what?" Dean stammered, unconsciously clenching up all his muscles.

"Calm down, Dean. I simply want to give you a blessing as a reward for your help. It has been handed down for generations but I know how your hands roam and you don't need to get excited right now. Now, just lay back and enjoy it for what it is," Korey commanded intently, locking Dean's gaze with hers.

Derek gently placed a hand on Dean's shoulder and, although Dean would never admit it, it made him relax in spite of the fact that Korey moved closer to her and directed her sister, Eden, around the bed to be on his other side. He controlled his breathing, doing his best not to tense up. He sensed a spell coming and worried that maybe there was no such thing as a "good" witch.

Korey mumbled under her breath and although both men tried to make out what was being said, neither one could make out any words. She placed both hands on his face and gently kissed his left cheek, then his right cheek and finally his forehead. Through the whole process, she kept speaking.

At her first kiss, he felt a warming heat flow throughout his body that made his hand clench about something warm and firm. The second kiss he sensed some of the memories lessened in intensity. During the final kiss, his body slowly relaxed of all its built up tension.

She pulled back and stared into his eyes then smiled. He smiled back and didn't flinch at all when she gently kissed his lips. The brief touch wasn't enough to stir passion but it was enough to let him know that he was going to heal from all of this. He hadn't been permanently damaged.

"Thank you," he whispered gratefully.

She smiled softly and insisted again, "You are a good man, Dean. Take care."

She pulled back and nodded to her sister then she turned and kissed Derek in the same manner, mumbling under her breath again. She gave him a big hug and told them, "Godspeed, my friends. I'll never be able to thank you enough. Please take good care of each other." With those parting words, the women left the room.

After the door closed, Derek turned and said what had been on his mind the whole time he'd been searching for his friend then waiting for him to wake up. "Boy, you sure know how to pick them and it's about time that you woke your lazy ass up." Dean smirked cockily. Derek shook his head then asked, "Hungry?" Dean nodded so Derek turned to get the soup when he noticed that something had a hold of his hand. He pulled slightly then cocked his eyebrow at Dean who also just seemed to notice he was the one holding Derek's hand. Dean quickly let go but not before Derek snarked, "And you say I'm the girl."

"Shuddup and get me my food, bitch," Dean ordered arrogantly.

Derek rolled his eyes, countering, "You're such a pussy."