Sorry for the delay in posting, I was sick. This chapter moves the story along and doesn't have graphic sex, but there is lots of unadulterated love and devotion :)

Rating: M (language)

It was now October, near Halloween, and Dean had agreed to be Sam's right hand man two months ago. Dean's agreement brought a new era in the Winchester/Colt epic, an epic that neither knew was in the making and one that could potentially rip the Earth apart. The only thing that Dean was aware of right now was how quiet Sam had become during the past few days. Quiet and withdrawn and moping about like he was pms-ing or something. He had only been with Sam for a few months but he was developing an instinctive and very protective mode about Sam, which was odd given the circumstances. Stranger still was that he could feel what Sam was feeling and seemed to know what he was thinking, though it didn't always work. Right now Dean was feeling drained, and anxious. Never one to talk about his own feelings he knew Sam often would open up so he decided to give it a go.

Turning the radio down he said, "come on Sammy, it's not sexy when you mope." There it was again – that feeling, like an invisible string pulling him toward Sam, the center of the universe now.

Sam looked at him and couldn't help but grin at the fact that Dean was devouring his 10th mini candy bar. His partner loved Halloween, well the candy part of it, and honestly he didn't know how Dean managed to stay as trim as he did with as much as he ate. They had shared a lot of their past with each other, Sam more than Dean, but he had never mentioned why Halloween bothered him so much.

"My mom died November 2nd," he said quietly. "I never knew her, only know what she looks like from pictures. But her death was the catalyst for everything that has ever happened to me…bad and good. Halloween is also when the veil is thinnest and all the ape-shit-crazies get a little crazier. It's always a bad time for hunters."

Sam reached over and ran his hand up Dean's thigh, giving a little squeeze to Dean's balls. "And what do you mean I'm not sexy when I mope? I'm damn sexy all the time," he smirked as his hand undid Dean's fly.

The Impala swerved across the double yellow line, luckily they were on a backroad with no one – especially cops – around. Dean corrected with reflexes so quick and controlled it made Sam wonder just how human his lover was. Even he didn't have that kind of reflex and control.

"Careful Sam! Driving here!"

"I think you need to pull to the side then," Sam said as his head disappeared from view.

Once again Dean's quick reflexes steered the Impala safely off the road and rested onto the curb without a moment to spare because Sam had just taken him all the way down and Dean's mind was officially blown.

Two hours later they were at their destination and pulling into the motel parking lot. Sam had given up his Charger for Dean's Impala and hadn't looked back. Well he did occasionally look back; to make sure the hounds of hell and the dregs of Hell's demons weren't following them. Which was another reason to hate Halloween…demons could get by with more shit during the Halloween celebrations and it would just get chalked up to stupid partying kids or cults. He couldn't shake the feeling that someone was following them, coming for Dean probably – Sam's only weakness.

Dean was a double weakness for Sam. First he had managed to keep Sam human and he was losing his powers the more he clung to humanity. He was becoming more human and physically weak – but if Hell thought that they would attack them when Sam was weak they all had another thing coming to them! If anyone put Dean's life in jeopardy Sam would drain the fucking demon dry and unleash everything he had been holding back for so long. Second, Hell knew by now how much Dean meant to Sam and how close to the prophecy their relationship was coming and would be out to take Dean down and force Sam to rule Hell. Which brought Sam back to the first point in his thoughts – how could he protect Dean? Yes, Dean was good at protecting himself but he knew what Hell could unleash, Dean wasn't yet brought up to speed on what that could entail.

Dean had never seen the full extent of Sam's awesome powers and if Sam could prevent it from happening as long as possible the better. His lover was still getting use to the hunting lifestyle, though Sam knew it didn't differ too much from being a paid assassin, and he worried about exposing Dean to too much too quickly. Even as hardened as Dean was there was just somethings that took time to wrap one's head around. Sam going full Vader on some unsuspecting creature wouldn't be a good thing for Dean to see right now. Sam didn't even think he could get full on heartrate 200, temperature 130, and black eyes anymore – Dean had given him his humanity and he was thankful.

It didn't take them long to figure out that they were hunting a Wendigo this time around and had traded the warmth and relative safety of the motel room for a tent and protective Native American symbols out in the woods. Sam had shown Dean his father's journal about the creature and Dean had absorbed it all. Dean was smart, Sam knew that from the beginning but the way his lover could take in all the crap Sam threw at him about hunting was astounding! He had never met anyone who could understand sigils, symbols, and take up Latin as if it was a first language so quickly. Sam was leafing through the journal while Dean made sure the weapons were readied. Occasionally he would glance over at Sam and smirk, he knew Sam was glancing at him ever so often as well. Being the bitch to the future King of Hell wasn't nearly as bad as he thought it would be. Well, he had never thought about it actually, he had just acted on the heat of the moment and the heat of Sam's body and some unknown feeling deep in his chest. Hunting was a crazy profession, though not much different than murder for hire. In both fields you used knowledge of your pray, and chose the best weapon for the job. Though had he known salt was so effective against evil he would have set up salt lines around his hotel room many times.

"Weapons are ready boss," he said with a smirk. It annoyed Sam when he said boss or anything that referred to Sam was in charge.

And when Sam was annoyed, well Dean was the one thing that soothed Sam's tensions. Sam was on him in a moment and had his tongue down his throat a second later. Dean absolutely fucking loved it!

"Hold that thought," Dean said as he broke the kiss. "Gotta take a piss."

"That's romantic," Sam joked as he got off of Dean and settled onto his sleeping bag. "I'll be naked when you get back and waiting so hurry."

Dean walked outside to relieve himself not worried about the Wendigo lurking about the woods. The symbols were protection against the creature and he trusted Sam to know how to do them properly. He had just finished when he a noise from his left caught his attention.

"Sam, think we got company," Dean said quietly knowing Sam heard him.

Stepping outside the tent, still clothed, the first thing Sam noticed was that one of the symbols had been disturbed, not by Dean but by some kind of freaking magic! Demonic magic he realized a second too late. But by then they were at the Wendigo's mercy.

Two heartbeats later Dean was being pulled through the woods!

Sam had tried to keep up with the Wendigo that had grabbed Dean but wasn't able to follow the swift creature. He was lost in the woods, losing valuable time, and that son of a bitch had Dean! He felt the familiar shifting in his body when his blood began to boil. Though it was good to know that his latent demonic powers could flare up during time of duress without him having to suck a demon spawn dry it also pissed him off because if he had been using his powers he could have taken the Wendigo down before it got away with Dean! By the time he came into full power mode Dean was long gone. Now Sam had to rely on his skill as a hunter more than his power to find the lair of the god damned monster and rescue Dean. Once Dean was safe some low life fucking demon was going to die –permanently and very painfully! Sam wasn't going to let anything happen to Dean. Dean was his and that fucking monster was going to die for taking what was his!

If anything happened to Dean he knew Sam's humanity would be lost and Hell would have their most beloved Son home safely and leading a demonic army across the land. Crowley knew this now and had taken the first step toward bringing Sam home – getting rid of Dean Colt. He watched from the shadows as Sam come into full demonic power and marveled at how beautiful the child was when enraged. Now all he had to do was wait for Sam to find Dean's disremembered body and then let the final transformation happen. It was all too easy, too perfect, and Crowley grew complacent with the win that would be at hand. He forgot never bet against a determined Winchester, the most basic of all demonic laws in the land.

Dean woke up to the hum of machines. More than the humming and the beeping was that he knew he was attached to most of them. He could feel the needles in his arms and hands…fuck he could feel everything and it all hurt like a son of a bitch! His mind was fogged by the various drugs but he remembered. It was mostly sensory memories, the stench of rotting flesh, animal piss, and shit. The sensation of hanging from his arms, toes digging into dirt trying to get some traction and the extreme cold. The lair was too dark to see anything and he had not wanted to see the dire situation he was in. He wasn't coherent when Sam rescued him, but he had known Sam was coming…he had sensed that too. Sam's essence getting closer, just as he knew without opening his eyes Sam was beside him. Slowly, trying to shield them from the sunlight that was coming through the blinds Dean opened his eyes.

He saw two Sams sitting by the bed and slowly the doubles merged into one, his Sam and his Sam looked exhausted.

"Glad you're awake," he said as he placed a gentle kiss on Dean's forehead. "Scared the shit out me man. Thought I had lost you for a while there."

Dean smiled at that. Weakly he said, "not ever going to lose me." Even speaking hurt!

"Damn straight," Sam said as he took Dean's hand into his and simply held it while Dean fell back to sleep.

Dean wasn't asleep, his eyes were closed but he wasn't asleep. How could he sleep when there was so much commotion in his head? He was hearing Sam's thoughts and they were loud!

"I'm so sorry you got hurt Dean. All my fault if I had only been strong enough," he heard Sam say in his head. Not only was he hearing Sam but now the invisible string that connected him to Sam was letting him feel what Sam was feeling and it was agony! Self loathing, rage, helplessness, and guilt was eating at Sammy's soul. Dean often felt all of those things but feeling the intensity that was coming from Sam the worse he felt, and he became physically weaker.

Sam saw Dean's eyes shoot open just as the machines began to beep and alarm. The nurses and doctor came rushing in because the machines were blaring that Dean was in cardiac arrest, though he was physically fine. Sam was confused and saw the look of confusion on Dean's face before they injected him with something to help him sleep. A few minutes later Dean was out cold leaving the hospital staff scratching their heads and replacing equipment. No one could offer Sam an explanation of why the machines went off even though all the tests showed Dean was recovering, and at an amazingly quick rate. It was just one more mystery that was Dean Colt; and with a vow to be more careful now that he knew they were not only being followed but hunted, he would have all the time in the world to uncover all of Dean's mysteries...as soon as he took care of a certain demon named Crowley.