Disclaimer: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show, The Vampire Diaries or Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fiction. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. The original stories were developed using SPN episode content up until 02/11/10 and this one may include anything up through 2019. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 15, though my story took its turn after SPN Season 4. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, "Mission," "Prelude," and "Bound." This story takes place where Prelude left off and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes. Any lyrics mentioned in this story do not belong to me are the property of their original writers.

"I'm so glad you're still alive, Wesley."

"For the time being," he sarcastically joked."I'm serious."

"I'm glad I got to see you again, April, even if it's brief."His graceful hands stroked her face before winding through her silky, black hair.

"I love you," she whispered. No answer. "I would say it's too soon for me to say it, but after all, we've been through—"

His lips crushed against hers, feverishly pursuing her, bringing her body to his. Her hands pulled him closer until they fit together like puzzle pieces. A perfect fit. She ran her eager hands frantically over his pulled back, his breathing uneven.

"Though God knows you shouldn't, and God knows I shouldn't say this…I love you, April. I love you more than you will ever know."

Woah. Did Wes say what she thought he said? Did he finally give in to their feelings? He had— and, of course, it was at a time where there was a good chance they both could die. April remembered being overwhelmed by equal senses of desperation at their situation and desire for him as they threw themselves into each other's arms. Seated comfortably in his lap, her legs securely coiled around him, drawing him ever closer. Her body and lips pressed against him, her damp shirt clinging to his barely covered chest. Then she waited. In their rich history, it was the point in their usual foreplay that Wesley would jump back and retreat, leaving her frustrated. This time she was the one to pull away. She never knew what his reasons had been before to stop, but she needed to understand before going any farther down the rabbit hole.

"Why'd you stop," Wesley murmured in bewilderment between breaths, his thumb grazing her swollen lower lip. Even in the darkness, her keen eyesight could see his fathomless eyes searching hers, worried he'd done something to make her halt.

What could she say? She's worried she wouldn't stack up to any previous partners? She's afraid you don't want her? The words came out of her mouth the same as her stream of consciousness."I don't know—I mean, you always usually stop now—and I just thought maybe you didn't want— " The rest of April's words were lost to his eager mouth as his fingers ran through her midnight hair. He was gentle and careful—the intent to quiet any of her doubts. Boy, it was working. They were still chastely kissing when she brought her fingers up to his dark hair, pressing him closer. As her lips parted as she tried to catch her breath, his tongue slipped between, lightly tasting her. Her mind and body dissolved in his embrace—he had never kissed her like that before. Who was she kidding, no one had ever touched her like that before. She was left completely thunderstruck.

It was clear there would be no stopping this time. Something had changed in him. Wesley's hands were running over her figure with such intention behind them as if he was trying to memorize the curvature of her entire body. It was as if he was judging if what he was exploring matched his fantasies. The urgency behind his touch made her believe it was better than he could imagine.

There was the sudden chaos of fumbling fingers pulling and discarding, a passionate blur ending with a tangle of their bare bodies. Wes stood up, offering April a hand to her feet, her arms instinctively wrapping around his body, pulling him to her. She could genuinely feel him now–all of him–fully pressed against her exposed skin. It created a pressure in her pelvis she had never experienced before—an overwhelming, fierce heat. It was as unique as it was worrying. She hoped to God that it was a normal reaction and not that she was going to be sick from nerves. Easy, girl.

He stumbled forward, putting his arms on either side of her to catch himself. And she suddenly found her back pressed against the cold, damp stone wall in deep contrast with her now flushed skin and even more pronounced in the absolute darkness. It felt shocking, recklessly causing her to cry out and Wes to chuckle as placed a hand over her mouth.

"Shhh...you don't want our guards to think we're having fun in here, now do you," he softly laughed, kissing from her collarbone up her neck as she barely stifled another moan. Funny, she thought, when the only thing right now captive and tortured was herself by his skillful hands.

A palm traced the shapely curve of her hip up to her chest, his hand kneading her sensitive flesh. His other capable hand skimmed down, caressed her thigh, and made his way to the junction between her legs. A small sound escaped her lips as he lightly brushed her there. His sensual mouth instantly covered hers before she could manage another pleasurable noise. How in the hell could she stay silent as he was delightfully tormenting her with every movement of his capable fingers? Electricity danced across her dewy skin, radiating an orchestrated warmth throughout her body. It was a sensation of energy she had never experienced before. Her back arched and her toes curled on their own. And that naturally made her wonder—did she have the same power as him?

Carefully testing her theory, she slowly slid a trembling hand over his shoulder, down to his sternum as he continued to inflict pleasure throughout her own body. His eyes instinctively snapped shut, and he trembled. April smirked triumphantly, knowing it was her touch that created his natural reaction. It was a powerful realization for someone with her experience—as in, she had none. Her fingers trailed from his chest to his stomach—his ab muscles involuntarily twitching in response. She noticed his usually smoldering eyes were still carefully sealed, his breathing hitched. He was enjoying the feel of her fingers sliding across him. That took her by surprise. She honestly never thought she'd have that sway over anyone, let alone Wes. Her hand bravely drifted lower and touched him. To her delight, he loudly gasped.

"Shhh...you don't want them to think we're having fun, now do you," she mockingly teased, continuing her persistent torture.

With a crooked smile and low growl, his hungry mouth settled on April's again—this time full of desperation. He cupped her rear as he lifted her, her nimble legs around him, encircling his waist instinctively. She gasped as their bodies crashed against each other, flesh to flesh. But it was the feel of his prominent ribs against her bare chest that was a gentle reminder of his current state—he was not the usual muscular Wes she knew. They definitely should not be doing anything. He was too frail—he could get hurt.

"No, I can't let you keep holding me like this," April declared, releasing her legs until she was standing comfortably on her toes. She was still worried he wasn't yet sturdy enough. After all, he hadn't taken much of her blood before and was not at full strength. And psychologically? Was he able to make this type of decision after everything? She had cause for concern. But she could see in his eyes that his passion outweighed his well-being. He hastily lifted her back up, and she wound her legs around him again.

"April, I am not going to let your first time be on your back on a prison floor."

Oh shit. First time—was it that obvious? Had her naiveté shown? Great. Just perfect. Here she was thinking she was daring—well, the joke was on her. Her stomach was now a jumble of nervous knots, her face trying to hide her embarrassment. With her luck, she was going to pass out. He must have sensed it. Holding her to him with one arm, Wesley lifted her chin so she could meet his gaze. His eyes stared into her sage-green. He took his time studying her expression, lightly tucking a strand of her long, ebony hair behind her ear. His feather touch and thoughtful look extinguished all her fear—he wasn't bothered by her inexperience at all. He was going to be patient and loving with her no matter what she decided. And he was willing to wait for her, however long that took if she was not ready. She instantly calmed down—her heart putting all her trust in him.

It was clear something real was happening between them. April didn't believe in soulmates, fated mumbo jumbo. That was just crap they put into Young Adult novels. There was no 'meant to be.' Stuff like that didn't happen. Life was full of mere coincidences, right? But their story seemed like more than just chance. They both firmly fought their attraction for a very long time and yet always managed to find themselves in each other's life. It was now crystal clear that it was firmly out of their control. There had to be something more otherworldly at play. If that was what the universe wanted, then goddammit, so be it. She wasn't going to argue with how being with him made both her soul and mind feel so damn good.

His dark eyes searched for proper permission, his free hand lovingly brushing her glowing cheek. Surprisingly, his gentle graze induced the same delightful shiver through her body as his hands had on her most intimate parts. She took his hand from her face, lovingly kissing his palm.

"Wesley, I've been waiting to be with you for a long time. Shut up and kiss me."

April drew his face to hers, her fingers tangling in his shaggy dark hair as they ground against each other. There was that tension building in her body again. He was a musician, she was his instrument, and he was going to tune her until the string snapped, wasn't he? There was no question in her neurotic mind anymore—she wanted this more than anything. Lifting her hips, he entered her agonizingly slowly. Her eyes snapped shut, and she sharply inhaled at the change in her body. The sensation was overwhelming. She felt full—she felt whole. He pushed further, his eyes meeting hers, trying to gauge if she was alright. He hesitated when she winced, his brows furrowed.

Why the hell did he stop?

"You—okay," he whispered, his words coming out in ragged gasps against her lips. His eyes held both anxiety and wonder, a look that mirrored her own.

April managed a reassuring nod, resting her forehead against his as he pressed into her deeper. Shockingly, she noticed the slight discomfort finally becoming mixed with pleasure. Her back arched as he gradually began to move inside her. Dear God. Holy shit. The delightful friction was driving her into sensory overdrive. She couldn't comprehend the way her body was feeling as she attempted to match his actions. Though she wasn't self-confident in what she was doing, from the satisfied look on his adorable face, he was keenly enjoying her.

It was only a matter of time before his weak legs began to wobble beneath him, a telling sign that she had been right—his frail body was nowhere near full strength yet. Well, it was worth it while it lasted, she thought, resigning herself that they would need a raincheck. She would not risk him getting injured. Still together, he gradually lowered them until he was on his knees, resting back on his heels, never severing their profound connection. She reluctantly shifted intending to move off, but he kept a firm grasp on her hips. Her gaze met his, and his eyes made it clear—there was no way in hell their moment was over while he was still upright and breathing.

April wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him tenderly on the lips, before resting her forehead against his own. Wes began to move with her, thrusting slowly, both of them savoring each other. Before long, as their pace naturally quickened, April tossed her head back in delight. Her shaky hands drifted from his neckline onto his collarbone, gripping him for dear life. Holy fuck. Now she knew what all the fuss was about—it was positively fucking mind-blowing. That excessive pressure and warmth built as the friction increased, her body pleaded for relief. The sensation only intensified deep down, her body tight as a wire until she shuddered with a gasp—her mind fragmenting into shards.

The shockwaves of euphoria radiated through her entire body, matching the rhythm of her heart. Her brain was still trying to wrap itself around what the hell just happened. There was not a single concept to define what occurred—it was indescribable. And all her body could do was react. She impulsively flung her head back in ecstasy, riding the all-consuming ripples. She bit her lower lip hard to force herself from crying out as her fingers firmly gripped his shoulders to ground herself. Wes suddenly wrenched her close, tenderly laying his head on her breast as he relished in his satisfaction. She slumped forward, gently laying her head against the top of his as he listened for her pulse, reverently kissing her where her heart still pounded in her chest.

They hung on intertwined for what seemed like an eternity, although it was only minutes. Both of them enjoyed the stillness as their ragged breaths relaxed to a sensible pace. April smiled as Wes continued brushing his lips across her sensitive skin as she played with his walnut hair. Her mind tried to process what in the hell just happened, still enjoying the sensation of his form against her own. She couldn't speak—the words to describe eluded her or plain didn't exist.

The amazing thing was, she seemed like herself—that much was the same. There wasn't something inside her shouting congrats on losing your V-card from the rooftops. But her and Wes—that remained to be seen. They had crossed that precarious line, and nothing between them would be the same. She understood that—but she hoped it was for the better. There was no one else she could imagine sharing those feelings with except Wes—ever. Maybe that was just her immature heart, she admitted, but she was hopelessly devoted.

As Wes gently pushed her chest back, she lowered her mouth to his. The fierceness of his lips from before being replaced with solemn, delicate kisses. He tenderly shifted her, regrettably separating the united two, cradling her in his adoring arms. He sat down fully on the dirty stone floor while holding her and reclined against the chilled wall with a contented sigh. April leaned her body into his as he securely held her.

She was in a truly blissful state, just enjoying the rise and fall of his chest against her side while he hugged her. That is until a giant spider crawled up her shapely leg. With a yelp, her hand swiftly swatted it away. Great, the first noise she made after that was a girly scream about a fucking spider, she thought, rolling her eyes.

Brought back to reality, April finally adjusted fully to the cavernous darkness. She could see the entire place surrounded in gray stone from the gritty floor to the domed ceiling. The hard exposed ground was damp, filthy, and freezing against her bare feet. Enveloped in that secrecy, April had to admit isolation would have been positively terrifying. She had some peaceful security knowing that Wesley was with her. Though it genuinely tore her heart out to think of him being left hidden to the brink of starvation. She was going to kill everyone who had hurt him—that was a promise.

Her gentle fingers unconsciously defined the noticeable outlines of his ribcage as he slept. God, he felt transformed since the last time she saw him. Had it only been a month ago? He had always felt like a fortified wall of muscle whenever they had embraced or fought one another. Now, he was gaunt and frail, all because he ran to her rescue. He risked fucking everything for her—including his health that evening. And yet, he still managed to make it the best damn night of her life. April chuckled awkwardly against his naked chest.

"What's so funny," Wes politely inquired. His fingers lovingly caressed the top of her head, while his opposite hand alluringly followed the curve of her bare hip. Her heart fluttered.

"Never thought my first time would be in a dungeon. Does this mean this place counts as a sex dungeon now?" April giggled.

Wes groaned, candidly admitting she possessed a somewhat odd sense of wry humor. She couldn't help it; ill-timed, inappropriate jokes during high-stress situations were undoubtedly the cornerstone of what it meant to be a Winchester.

"My dear sweet April, what have I gotten into with you? And I'm confident this wasn't where you pictured it happening. A dank, filthy cell wouldn't be my first choice either," he humbly confessed.

No, it wasn't exactly where she imagined her historic "first"—who would plan on a jail? But it didn't matter where as much as who. God help her; she adored and trusted Wes, and that was all that mattered. When they got out—

Oh, Hell, why was she even considering the possible future? Wes was correct in his theory; their captors were going to starve them. There was no doubt. He was full-blooded Lamia—she would not receive any sustenance from him. But she knew in her gut there was going to be a point where his hunger would be so great, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from draining her dry. Part of her was okay with that. It would be wildly out of his conscious control and was a victim of circumstance. Though she knew he wouldn't feel that way and would live miserably with the guilt until his death. And that was something that fucking broke her. She needed to find a way to save both their asses.

She tilted her head and looked inquisitively at the cell door, willfully trying to push the opening with her focused power. Nothing budged.

"It's iron," Wes yawned, barely bothering to unclose his eyes. "It's not going to work, but I heartily admire your gumption."

"Well, it's not going to work with that negative attitude," she crookedly smiled, tenderly laying her head back down on his exposed chest. His heart rate was markedly slower than before, and his skin was much cooler to the touch than usual. He should have felt warmer after drinking from her previously. Her high-strung gut twisted with anxiety. He had to survive—they both had to, dammit. He had lasted this long, and she wasn't allowing him to give up. Not now. "You're tired and desperately need to eat—"

"No," he growled in a strangled whisper. He quickly turned his handsome face away, and from the wry grimace, he was in definite pain. She could see his canine pushed against his lower lip, drawing blood. He was still ravenous.

"But, if you carefully took some more you could gain some of my power too and could try to help move–"

"I'm not taking any more from you. Look, you supplied more than enough and then some—," his sentence involuntarily suspended by a yawn. "Though you are not wrong about being tired—I could sleep for days. You certainly took a lot out of me tonight," he grinned slyly, earnestly trying to reassure her he was improving.

April smiled wistfully, though her dark eyes could not disguise her fear. Scooting up, she tenderly grazed his lips with her own. He kissed back and sighed happily, his hand brushing her forearm as his eyes drifted shut. He was beyond exhaustion. She had honestly wondered if he slept soundly at all in the frightening weeks leading up. He desperately needed a long nap, and she certainly had plenty of time to pester him about blood-donation later.

"Glad I could be of service. Now, you get some rest—and I'm not asking."

Wes grinned, murmuring something that sounded like a "yes, ma'am." he shifted to rest her head in the crook of his protecting arm, while he leaned his sunken cheek into her unbound hair. He was so relaxed that he had already drifted to sleep. It was probably the first time he'd enjoyed any considerable comfort in a while. Good, she reflected. He deserved some peace.

April valiantly attempted staying awake. After all, one of them should be alert to defend the other in case something went down. And she was in far better shape to do just that, but it was no use. She had to plan their escape. She had to—

April was spontaneously in a lush meadow bursting with golden flowers on all sides. She could smell honeysuckle and daffodils in the fragrant air. The balmy breeze blew fiercely through her ebony hair all around her, gently twisting the flowing skirt of her pale lavender dress in the wind. It was beautiful. She felt gorgeous.

Bizarrely, beyond that magical field, she could observe nothing. Dark, impenetrable clouds instantly surrounded the grassy pasture. How very strange.

"April," a familiar voice called out in the unfathomable distance.

"APRIL!" The distinctive voice called out with more moral urgency—it was a familiar, thick Southern drawl. Wes had a detectable accent that he could easily conceal unless he became angry, so that left–

"Jesse," she responded, her bewildered eyes widened with surprise. "Where are you?! I can't see you!"

"Thank God, you can hear me. I'm being partially blocked; they assuredly have some warding set up somewhere, but listen to me–we're going to get you out tomorrow before–"

"Before what," she called into the dark void.

"–-don't say yes no matter what–"

"Say yes to what?! Jesse?!"

"Don't say yes!"

"JESSE!"

"April, wake up!"

Her bleary eyes snapped open, meeting Wes's gaze full of concern.

"What," she inquired, carefully sitting upright, her sore back chilled against the soggy stone.

"Barely took an hour or so after we slept together for you to yell out the other guy's name in your sleep, huh," Wes not-so-subtly suggested with a raised eyebrow. Ouch. Was he genuinely that annoyed with her? Had she been shouting aloud? In a flash, he went from a frontman with a bold swagger to very young and insecure. She didn't know that was even possible.

"Don't be a jealous idiot," she reassured as she pecked his cheek. "I never suspected you for someone to have zero confidence. For your information, no, I did NOT have a dream about him—it was more like when he was dream stalking me—it was as if he was there."

"What did he say?" Wesley's shoulders relaxed as he gradually realized what she was describing was not regarding a fantasy.

"I–it was so quick and cut-off, but he positively told me people were coming for me– and to not say yes? Not saying yes to what," she wondered aloud.

Wes's shrewd eyes darkened with a hint of realization. April naturally looked at him curiously, trying to decipher his strange reaction, but whatever was behind those mysterious, pitch-black eyes were to remain a mystery—for now.

"Wes, you're drenched in sweat, are you okay? Did you have a nightmare too," she attentively examined, running a calming hand through his damp, dark chestnut hair.

"You could say that," he muttered fiercely. There was something in the sharp way he answered, something he wasn't fully divulging. She could sense his distraction. He took her hands and reverently kissed her soft palms, his lips lingering. "April, I think you're correct about your suggestion earlier."

Wait, he did?

"Why the change of heart? You were so damn opposed when I suggested it earlier." "

Well, if you wholeheartedly believe help is coming, we–I–need to be ready. To achieve that," Wes paused, caressing up her slender arm to her clavicle. Her green eyes shut, and she shivered. "I want your help...so I can assist you...but not enough to make you weak. I only need enough to wield my powers, but you need your strength as well, so don't pressure me to take too much. I have to admit you can be quite persuasive, April." He nuzzled into her neck, and she grinned, tilting her head to the side to permit him. "Besides, this doesn't have to be merely for practical use. We, vampires, do this for pleasure too, you know." She moaned as he playful nibbled and depressed his fangs.