CHAPTER 4

The brothers finished the scan of the upper floors with no significant readings registering and they walked down the back stairwell to the main floor. Dean had kept up a fast pace as they scoured the hallways, his way of avoiding any more chick flick conversations with Sam. One more floor to go. The instrument's needle jerked and wavered a bit in the Hall's main kitchen, located on the south side of the building.

"South wing," Dean thought out loud. "Where the boarding house used to be."

"So the professor's killer crop worker theory may hold some merit after all," Sam nodded.

They finished the walk-through to find the kitchen was the only hot-zone. Well, more like a warm zone but at least it was something. Tasha and Phyllis came down and met them in the main lobby a few minutes later and the hunters promised they would do all they could to protect the professor's girls, as the older woman fondly referred to them, before exchanging farewells and leaving.

Back in the car, Tasha divulged what she had found out from Ashley, which wasn't much that they didn't already know. She did, however, get a more detailed description of the man and had drawn up a rough sketch. "He's a white guy with dark hair, kinda unkempt like Sam's…"

"My hair's not unkempt," Sam defended instinctively.

"Whatever, Shaggy," Dean shushed him, waving at Tasha in the back seat to continue.

"Okay, his hair was styled in a somewhat lengthier but still trendy and attractive fashion," she corrected with a chuckle. Dean noticed Sam didn't turn around to look her in the eye and didn't offer a rebuttal to the tease like he normally would have. She let her smile drop and sighed before finishing the description. "He had dark brown eyes and a big, ugly nose. He was probably in his late twenties with an athletic build. Maybe five-ten, five-eleven."

"That describes half of campus," Dean groaned.

Tasha ignored his griping. "Ashley also went to the cops but they did sweet FA. Said there's no evidence an actual crime has been committed."

"Well, in their defense," Sam said grudgingly, "If you don't know what we know, it does look like this is all in their heads."

"In six girls' heads?" Tasha retorted heatedly.

"Okay, so far we've got two possibilities," Dean interceded quickly, changing the subject.

"Two?" Tasha raised an eyebrow, leaning forward and putting her elbows on the seat back between the brothers. "Aren't we thinking angry spirit of the crop worker?"

"There's this stuff called African dreamroot," Dean explained. "Silent Cannabis or something."

"Silene Capensis," Sam corrected absently.

"Whatever. We came across someone using this stuff almost four months ago in Pittsburg. See, if you drink it in a gross-tasting tea, it lets you to pop in and control someone else's dream. Some perv gets his hands on a batch of that stuff and a dorm full of hot college chicks is gonna look like a fully-stocked fishing pond."

"Dean, rape is about control, not sex," Sam argued. "I still think the angry spirit's more likely."

"He's controlling the dream, isn't he?" Dean pointed out. "Jeremy Frost was all about control, remember? He thought he was God in there."

Sam nodded in reluctant admittance. Jeremy Frost, the man who'd almost killed Bobby with African dreamroot, had nurtured a serious God complex. Sam remembered what it had been like to take that control away from him, influencing Dean's dream with his own mind to bring Jeremy's abusive father in to distract him while the hunter took him out.

"Well if it is a human," he said finally, "How are we gonna find him? All we have to go on is a pretty vague description."

"We know he hangs around the dorm," Dean supplied. "He has to have been getting the DNA from the girls somehow."

"DNA?" came the query from the back seat.

"Yeah, he needs to drink the DNA of the particular person whose dream he plans on entering," Sam explained.

"So what, do we stakeout the dorm?" she asked.

"He may have moved on," Sam told her. "He probably saw Ashley freaking out in the cafeteria."

"It's four AM guys," Dean said as he stifled a yawn. "Why don't we call it a night and start canvassing tomorrow morning. I'm freaking tired."

"What if he comes tonight?" Tasha objected sharply. "We should go back and keep our eye on the place. I promised Ashley we wouldn't let him get her again. Besides, there's a hundred other defenseless girls in there."

Dean winced. "Not much we can do," he admitted reluctantly. "If he's gonna strike tonight, it means he's already got the DNA and he can dreamwalk from anywhere in town. He won't be going back there tonight so there's nothing we can do until morning anyway."

"And if it's an angry spirit," Sam added, unwilling to dismiss that option, "Then we need to figure out who he was, where he's buried, and salt and burn the bones. We don't have time to do that before sunup and digging a grave up in a big city in the daytime is asking for trouble. We may as well get some shut-eye and we'll track down his grave tomorrow and dust him as soon as it's dark."

Tasha relented with a displeased huff, sitting back in the rear seat with her arms folded across her chest. Dean found the closest motel and let Sam go in to check-in. After a moment of silence alone in the car he turned to face her. "You alright Tash?" he asked gently.

"I'm fine," she smiled back at him.

Her smile seemed genuine enough but Dean had grown to recognize the tiny signs that something was bothering her, even though he'd only known her for two months. The way her foot was twitching. The way her lips were pulled slightly to the right. He couldn't figure her out as well as he could Sam, but he was getting unnervingly good at it.

"You sure?" he pressed, surprising himself at his uncharacteristic willingness to get into an emo conversation. It was just so easy with her. "Coz I can see how this would be a hard case for you because of…you know…foster dad number six."

Her shoulders relaxed and her foot stopped twitching. "I'll be fine," she said, giving him a much more convincing smile this time. "Let's just salt and burn this asshole."

"If it's dreamroot, then it's a human," he pointed out.

"So? I say we salt and burn the motherfucker anyway," she grinned viciously.

Dean laughed. "You know, you keep talking like that and I might just have to marry you one day," he teased, the words out of his mouth before he could stop them. What in the Hell did he say that for? He struggled to keep the astonishment and regret from his face as both coursed through him, suddenly dreading her reply.

She made it easy for him. "That's presumptuous of you," she joked. "Says who I'd say yes?"

Sam chose that fortuitous moment to return to the car, handing a key over the seat to the girl as he climbed back in. "Rooms eleven and twelve," he said simply, pointing down the line of paint-peeled doors.

Dean pulled the Impala up in front of room 12, getting out and handing Tasha her duffel from the trunk as he grabbed his own and moved out of the way for Sam to grab his. "You want me to come tuck you in?" he grinned lewdly down at the brunette.

She rolled her eyes. "You just said you were tired. Get some sleep." She turned and unlocked the door to room 11, next door, and disappeared quickly inside.

Dean followed Sam into their room, throwing himself down on the bed closest to the door without bothering to take off his boots. Sam moved about between the room and the bathroom in his usual routine, cleaning his teeth and digging out his laptop. He had just settled down on one of the plastic chairs and connected to the agonizingly slow internet connection when Dean got back up, jumping off the bed and grabbing his coat.

"I'm gonna check on Tash," the elder Winchester announced as he headed for the door. Sam rolled his eyes, figuring that was Dean-speak for 'I'm going to get laid' and gave his brother a half-hearted wave as he left.

Dean knocked on the next door over, giving Tasha a sheepish look when she answered with an eyebrow raised in surprise. She was wearing just cotton sleep pants and a tight little t-shirt and had a toothbrush sticking out of her mouth.

"Wasn't earlier tonight in the car enough for you?" she said accusingly, placing her hands on her hips in mock offense. "I thought you were tired."

Dean stepped over the threshold, forcing her to take a step back as he moved his body abruptly into her personal space. He grinned down at her and couldn't help but notice the way her nipples were practically poking through the fabric of her tee. He placed his hands on her waist, kicking the door shut behind him with his boot. He had honestly just planned on making sure she was settled in and okay but as usual, the sight of her sent the testosterone coursing through his veins and the parts of him he thought were tired were now wide awake. "Sleep can wait," he said huskily, pulling the toothbrush out of her mouth with his teeth and dropping it on the floor.

He leaned in to kiss her, giving her a second to swallow all the free toothpaste in her mouth before he ran his tongue along her lower lip, asking to be let in. As usual, she didn't refuse him, sliding her own hands around his neck as she kissed him back. He walked her backwards towards the bed, his mouth never leaving hers. His hands roamed up the curve of her waist and back down to her hips, where they tightened and pulled her closer to him as they walked.

She gasped and let out a little yelp at the move. It wasn't a sound of pleasure, however, a fact Dean picked up on instantly and he stopped dead, pulling back and looking down at her in sharp curiosity. "You okay, babe?" he asked seriously.

She winced. "I'm just a little sore, that's all," she admitted, reaching her lips back towards his.

Dean held her at arms length. "From our little escapade in the car?" he asked guiltily.

She nodded and shrugged at the same time.

He moved his hands gently to the waistline of her pants, sliding them down over her hips. He glanced over her shoulders to see a full length mirror on the motel room wall behind them and watched the reflection of his own hands sliding down her thighs. He forced his attention back to her hips and his breath caught when he noticed the bruises. She let the pants fall to the floor and he lifted her t-shirt up over her head to get a better look.

"Oh, Tash, I'm sorry," he breathed, his voice heavy with guilt as he stepped back and studied her near naked form. They'd had some hard, needy sex before and it wasn't as if she'd never ended up with a bruise or two, but her hips now showed a whole different level of rough sex. There was a long series of bruises on each side, lined up to match both his and Sam's fingerprints. "I didn't realize…"

"Hey," she interrupted his apology. "I'm not complaining. Trust me, it was worth it." She pressed her lips against his again and he reacted hesitantly, trying to push his way past his guilt enough to return the kiss. He glanced past her into the mirror again and the sight that greeted him gave him the nudge he needed.

She was naked save for a pair of lavender, lacy boys-cut panties, her loose, chestnut waves spilling halfway down her back as she tipped her head back to reach his lips. He groaned and returned the kiss with a bit more vigor, although he made a conscious effort to be gentle this time round.

He spun her around to face the mirror, laying a trail of kisses along her neck from behind. She squirmed uncomfortably at the exposing view in front of them but he held her gently in place with an arm wrapped around her shoulder. He nibbled her earlobe before reaching down to slide the panties off, running his hands all the way down her legs and back up as he did so. He moved his mouth back to her neck and grinned at the reflection of them both. "God, you're beautiful," he whispered in her ear.

"Dean, you're making me feel self-conscious," she breathed in response, her voice faltering nervously.

He grinded his hips against her bare ass. "And you're making me hard," he replied.

"Classy," she laughed, and he felt her relax in his hold.

He wrapped his arms farther around her, sliding his palms up to massage her breasts tenderly before letting one of them make its way downwards, gliding across her stomach, hips, and inner thighs before sliding in between her legs.

"I promise I'll be gentle," he whispered throatily in response to her gasp.

"Oh ... Dean," she moaned, tipping her head back into his chest as his finger circled slowly around her nub, refraining from sliding inside her quickly-wetting heat. Dean stared at her body writhing slightly against him in the mirror in a slow, sensual dance and actually gasped at how ridiculously sexy it was. He even spared a glance at his own reflection from where he stood behind her. The fact that he was fully clothed made her naked form seem even smaller, more delicate, softer ... sexier. He bent his knees slightly and reached farther around as he swirled his finger in increasingly deeper circles, grinding gently against her from behind while his other hand traced delicate lines up and down her bruised waist and hip.

She made a delicious soft, moaning sound that had him straining against the zipper of his jeans, aching to be released. He ignored it as best as he could, concentrating instead on her intoxicating scent as he bent down to kiss her neck. He slipped the first finger just partway inside, determined to make this as slow and gentle as he could. She reached both her hands around and clasped his denim-clad thighs tightly, her right knee lifting and swinging outwards as she pushed her leg up on its tippy-toe in an effort to allow him better access. Her hips began to curl forward in a rhythmic motion, begging him to go deeper. He complied and nudged his own knee under hers to lift her leg higher still, sliding his first finger all the way in as his thumb took over stroking the nub.

God how he loved the sounds she made when he pleasured her. From the gaspy pants to the full out screams to the achingly desperate moans like she was making now; they all made him tighten and tingle in all the right places. Tonight was no exception and he found himself fighting the urge to just throw her on the bed and plunge himself inside her. After two months of basically fucking like rabbits, somehow she still turned him on every bit as much now as she had on that very first night when he had lost all self-control from a simple kiss and had thrown her down on the hood of the Impala, ramming himself into her over and over through two of her screaming orgasms until he finally came. They had then taken it to the back seat and the rest of the night had been spent panting and thrusting and cumming in positions Dean had never thought possible and some he'd never even imagined.

He grinded his stiffness against her with increasing urgency but otherwise, concentrated on keeping the pace relaxed and easy. He was going to make this all about intimacy and softness and pleasuring her without the pain he and Sam had apparently thrown into the wild ride on the side of the road. He had two fingers in her now and was sliding them in and out as slowly as his waning self-control would allow.

She twisted around to face him, wrapping her slender hand around his muscular forearm to encourage him to go faster and deeper. Her head was tipped back away from him and her eyes were hooded, her mouth hanging partly open as she hooked her lifted leg around his thigh, squeezing in an attempt to bring him closer to her.

"There's that damn impatience again," he chuckled, his voice low and breathy. Her hands wove around his neck and with her face suddenly so close, he couldn't help but press his mouth on hers. He pulled his fingers out of her heat and smothered her protest with his tongue as it snaked into her mouth, flicking and caressing as it went. He clasped a hand under each of her thighs, hoisted her up onto his hips, and walked the few steps towards the mirror, pressing her bare back up against the cold surface before lowering her legs back down.

She gave him a questioning look as he pulled away and he simply smiled in reply. He leaned forward and nibbled on her earlobe before planting a trail of kisses down her neck. His hands were already on her breasts, kneading and squeezing as she arched her back away from the mirror and let another moan escape, this one louder and more hungry than the last. He glided his mouth downwards and his hand tugged her breast gently towards him, thumb and forefinger twisting the already hard nipple as his lips closed around it. She gasped in pleasure and Dean felt her hand reach out to caress his almost painful erection through his jeans.

He backed his hips away from her, wrapping his fingers around her wrists and pressing her hands against the mirror at her sides. "Uh- unh, baby," he whispered, "This is all about you tonight."

She snorted in apparent disbelief but didn't struggle against his restraint when he worked his mouth lower, making a trail of wet, sucking kisses down across her belly. She squirmed against the mirror as he sank to his knees in front of her and her leg fell sideways again with a loud moan when his tongue reached her navel. He smiled to himself and teasingly changed direction, instead working his magic across her pelvic bone and down her right hip, making sure to plant a soft kiss on every bruise the Winchesters had left there. He continued the torture by doing the same on the left side before finally moving slowly inward until he reached her inner thigh.

Still holding her hands in place, he could no longer ignore the incredible moist heat he was feeling on his cheek as he reached the apex of her thigh and finally allowed his tongue to run hungry circles around her already swollen nub. She let out a whimpering cry of pleasure and he dipped inside, flicking and nipping with his tongue and his teeth. He pushed in farther and harder, fucking her with shallow thrusts and the memory of watching Sam do the very same thing to her a few hours earlier flashed through Dean's mind. Strangely, instead of creeping him out, it only egged him on and he increased the pressure every time he pulled out to work the nub before plunging back in again.

Her leg was suddenly up over his shoulder, her strong calf muscles drawing his head in towards her heat. She started to cry out, her head tipped upwards and her restrained hands clenching into fists of need at her sides. He could feel her orgasm mounting inside of her and wasn't in the least surprise when it broke free, her hips jerking around his face as she shuddered and panted her way through it.

She came down slowly amid tender kisses on her belly, breathing heavily as she looked down at him. "You're turn, I suppose?" she said with a satisfied smile.

Dean grinned. "I'm feeling generous," he replied with a wink. "I'm gonna hold off until you've had say…three."

She laughed as he released her hands and pulled himself to his full height in front of her. "Really?" she scorned in feigned disbelief although her eyes danced in anticipation. "So what do you have in mind for number two?"

Dean leaned his whole body against her, kissing her hard on the mouth and pressing her into the cold mirror behind her. "You'll see," he rasped, hooking his hands under her thighs again. She wrapped her legs around him as he lifted her onto his hips and this time he walked towards the bed, sitting her gently down on the very edge of it. He pushed her knees apart and went right to work, sliding a finger all the way inside.

She closed her eyes and bit her lip, her hips instinctively rocking towards him. On his knees again, his free hand wrapped around to the small of her back, pressing her body forward onto his fingers. He quickly added a second one, thrusting them in and out at an ever increasing pace. She had her knees as far apart as they could go in the sitting position on the edge of the mattress and she leaned backwards over his forearm, her chest arching upwards. She planted her hands on the bed behind her and Dean ducked down to take a nipple in his mouth as he slid a third finger inside her.

She started panting almost immediately and he picked up the pace even farther, muscled forearm pulsating back and forth as his fingers plunged in faster and harder with each stroke. Without slowing down, he crooked his thumb and pressed it to her clit, giving it a mere two circular strokes before her toes were curling and her thighs were clenching and she was cumming again. Momentarily forgetting about his attempt to be gentle, he kept his fingers pumping through her orgasm, escalating her twitching to full-on spasms and screams as she fisted the sheets behind her.

"Oh fuck! Dean!" she cried as she found her release. "Dean!" God he loved that she always cried his name during sex. In the past, too many girls he'd been with had either been given fake names or couldn't remember his name in the short time he had known them. He'd always enjoyed a noisy lay and she certainly didn't hold back.

He watched her come down from her orgasm, studying the way her chest heaved in his arms and her thighs subconsciously squeezed against his. Her breathless pants gave way to deeper, gentler moans and she always licked her lips and let out a deep exhale as she finished. Her brown eyes were closed but he knew they would be searching out his green ones the instant they opened. It was a sight he had grown to cherish and one he wanted to remember for a long time. He had some small hope that maybe it would help him bear the endless suffering and torture he would soon be enduring in Hell. Maybe.

"Well that was almost too easy," he snorted, slipping his arm out from behind her waist.

"I wanted to make it easy on you," she rebutted with a slight pout, grabbing his shirt collar and tugging his lips towards hers. "Besides, I can't help the way you turn me on, baby. Just looking at you makes me wet."

"Oh, girl, that's cheating," he murmured as he drove his tongue into her mouth. "You know…what dirty talk…does to me. You've still got…one more to go."

"Well I promise not to talk dirty if you take these clothes off," she bargained, tugging his shirt off over his shoulder.

"Deal," he agreed, practically ripping his shirt as he tugged it off his arms. He immediately reached behind his neck and yanked his t-shirt up over his head also, tossing it somewhere behind him. He stood up to unzip his jeans and she pulled herself farther onto the bed, leaning back and letting her knees fall apart as she licked her lips at him.

"That's still cheating," he accused, his cock hardening to painful proportions at the delicious sight before him. He disposed of his jeans and boxer-briefs in record time and it was all he could do not to throw his torso between those knees and thrust himself deep inside her. He knew he wouldn't last thirty seconds if he did that and he had promised her three before he finished. An offer he was seriously regretting right now.

He forced himself to stand where he was for a moment, trying to think past the inviting wetness before him that was practically screaming his name. He took a deep breath and finally got on the bed. He lowered his body down between her bent knees and leaned forward to kiss her but, with great effort, kept his hips raised and out of reach. The moment she wrapped one leg around him to pull him downward he flipped over, rolling onto his back and pulling her on top of him.

She squealed in surprise but didn't complain once she found herself straddling him. He saw the victorious smile creep onto her face and began to doubt his tactics. She wasn't going to make this easy.

The devilish smirk still on her face, she began to grind her hips back and forth on top of him. She pressed his upright cock down flat against his stomach and maneuvered her sticky wet opening to slide it up and down along the full length of the shaft. He shuddered in anticipation but resisted grabbing her bruised hips to maneuver her onto him properly; instead waiting the three full seconds before her impatience got the better of her and she did it herself.

She lowered herself onto him slowly, inhaling deeply as she sank down on him. Dean let out a deep moan of pleasure, relaxing into the soft bed beneath him and allowing her to do all the work. She started to rock back and forth, taking him deeper and deeper with every forward grind. She gradually picked up the pace and her moans grew louder and her breath heavier. Dean struggled with himself between closing his eyes to savor the sensations and keeping them open to take in the sexy-as-hell sight of her swaying and pulsating back and forth on top of him.

Still trying to refrain from grabbing her bruised hips, he reached up instead to fondle her breasts. She reacted by arching backwards, her hands swinging behind her to rest on his thighs as she pushed herself harder and faster onto his cock. He let another moan escape and realized he wasn't going to last much longer, probably not longer than she was. He had basically bragged about giving her three orgasms and Dean hated to look the fool. Knowing exactly what would hurry her along, he brought his hands to her waist, trying to keep them above the long lines of colorful bruises, and lifted her up. He pushed her up over him and held her in place as he began bucking his hips upwards, plunging himself into her with quick, sharp thrusts.

Her moans immediately turned to lusty cries of pleasure and her hands clasped down over his in the curve of her waist. He could feel her thighs clenching around him and could hear his balls slapping against her skin every time he rammed himself upwards. Less than a minute later she was panting and gasping as her juices spilled down his cock and trickled down between his legs. He followed closely behind her, pulling her down to engulf his full length as he came deep inside her with a shuddering moan.

She lowered her torso down over his, pressing her lips against his and breathing into his mouth as their breath slowed in unison. She eventually rolled off to the side and lay on her back next to him. He turned towards her and propped his head up on his elbow.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" he said again, tracing his fingers lightly over her naked form.

"And you're getting better at the pillow talk," she teased in return. "Remember that first week it was 'thanks, babe, we should do that again sometime'," she said, mimicking his deep drawl.

"What can I say, I'm a fast learner," Dean laughed, unoffended. "Besides," he added, "You didn't mind. You had the hots for me from the very first day we met."

"Actually, I thought you were a jerk the first time we met."

"Well, you changed your mind pretty quick because if I remember correctly, I had you twisted up like a pretzel in my back seat that very night," he grinned at her.

She rolled her eyes. "Always the gentleman," she snorted. "And no, I still thought you were a jerk but you were a good looking jerk so I decided to overlook that minor detail." She snuggled in closer to him. "If I'd wanted polite and mannered, I would have gone for Sam."

"I'm not even gonna touch that one," Dean laughed, his fingers still ghosting over her skin.

She gave him a serious look. "Your brother won't even look at me," she said, sounding genuinely upset. "He must think I'm such a slut."

Dean waved his hand in dismissal, wondering why it was so easy to talk to her about the very same subject he had practically chewed Sam's head off for daring to mention.

"He's just feeling awkward about it," he told her. "You know how he is, all shy and uptight."

"Well, he wasn't either of those things at the time," she pointed out, her chest heaving in a short burst of silent laughter.

"No," Dean agreed. "Kid surprised the heck outta me, I gotta admit."

She chuckled. "I think we all surprised ourselves with that whole thing," she said. "I don't really know how it happened; it just sorta … did."

Dean leaned down and kissed her lips. "Hey, no regrets babe."

She smiled as he pulled away. "Nah. But as for Sam, we need to find him a girlfriend," she said with a look of genuine concern. "All that pent up energy he's got and that pretty decent ... uh … package," she tilted her head up towards the hunter lying next to her and gave him a sheepish look. "That's just a waste."

"Should I be getting jealous?" Dean raised an eyebrow in jest. It surprised him a little, but he found he wasn't jealous at all. He didn't feel threatened or worried that it would ever happen again. He had no formal claim over this girl yet he trusted her completely. As for Sam, well, he trusted Sam with every fiber of his being. Sure they had their many, many…many differences, but Sam would always have his back and sure as heck would never slide in on his girl.

"Of course not," she answered his tease with a playful slap against his chest.

He gazed down at her, a soft smile of contentment playing with the ends of his lips. Of all the moments he spent with her, these were his favorite. As much as he loved the physical moments spent in the proverbial throes of passion, and he had to admit there were an awful lot of them, he preferred this. Private, relaxed, easy conversations. He surprised himself with the things he had told her in moments such as these, intimate thoughts and feelings. His mixed feelings about his dad. How much he missed his mom despite what little he remembered of her. His insecurities about not looking after Sam as well as he should have. She never made him feel judged for feeling these things or pathetic for sharing them. And he knew for a fact she had shared things with him she had never told anybody else. They just seemed to instinctively get each other.

He leaned in and kissed her but ended up swallowing her yawn instead. "Tired?" he asked, though it was more of an observation than a question.

She just nodded and lay her head in the crook of his arm, reaching behind her to pull the end of the sleeping bag she had on the bed over them. Dean kissed her forehead and slid his arm gently out from underneath her, moving to push himself up off the bed.

"Dean, can't you stay just one night?" she said pleadingly, propping herself up on her elbows as he withdrew.

Dean winced at the unwanted question. He'd known it would come eventually. They had been doing this dance for almost two months now and she had strangely been very accepting of his nightly retreat back to his room with Sam. With a couple of exceptions at the very beginning, the only entire nights that he had spent with her were those few when they had only been able to get a single motel room, and those had been spent fully clothed and very well behaved because Sam had been in the other bed.

"The night's practically over anyway," she continued. "And your brother's a big boy. I'm pretty sure he'll be alright 'til morning."

Dean sighed, grabbing his underwear from the floor and hastily putting them on. "It's not that, Tash," he groaned. "It's just…" He let the sentence trail off. How could he explain that he only had twenty-some days to live and he felt like he needed to get all the time in with his brother as he possibly could? The little routine they had in the mornings where they wordlessly moved around each other like a well-oiled machine getting ready for their day was inexplicably one of his favorite times spent with Sam and he had so very few of them left. He would love to curl up next to Tasha and breathe in her scent and feel her softness against him as he slept, but damnit he had so few mornings left and Sam had to come first. His brother had been everything to him from the day the kid was born and very soon he would be seeing him for the last time. He had to cherish those small moments.

How could he explain that to her? He barely understood it himself.

She saved him the trouble, a look of defeat coming over her face as he continued getting dressed.

"Okay, look, I get it," she sighed. "We both insisted from the start that this was just a temporary thing with no strings attached." Her jaw set in a slightly challenging look that made him wary. "But after the first week, we both knew it was already way past that."

Oh shit. She was finally making him have this conversation. Couldn't she just hold off three more weeks?

"At least it was for me," she continued. "You can't tell me you don't feel the same way, Dean."

He avoided her gaze as he turned to sit on the edge of the bed and began to pull his boots on. He knew he had to answer her but couldn't get any words out past the lump of guilt in the pit of his stomach. Of course he felt the same way. But telling her that wouldn't make things easier on her when the Hellhounds came to drag him away.

How had he let it get this far? How had he gotten himself in so deep? And how had he allowed himself to set her up for such a hard fall? God he was a selfish bastard.

His silence was clearly getting her agitated and her voice grew sharper as she continued. "I've never complained about you never being there when I wake up and I know you never want to talk about any kind of 'relationship crap' so I don't bring it up," she argued. "But you can't tell me you don't feel the same way. I mean, is this seriously still just about the sex for you?"

"No," he said quickly, turning to face her but remaining perched on the edge of the bed. "No, of course not."

She looked like she was about to cry. Oh shit, please don't cry.

"Look, Tash," he defended imploringly, "There's things going on here that you don't understand. Things I just can't explain. I told you that the very first week."

"Oh that's right," she spat back, her tone sharpening even further. Dean knew her well enough to know it was her way of avoiding getting too emotional. "The big 'family secret'." She actually finger quoted the words 'family secret'. "The one that you just can't talk about. The secret you and Sam argue about and whisper about whenever you think I'm not listening. The secret that has us going to see hoodoo witches and crazy-ass retired hunters even when there's no hunt around. The reason I'm asked to stay in the car while you guys go meet with some mysterious dude, again even between hunts."

Dean was slightly taken aback she had noticed as much as she had but supposed he shouldn't have been surprised. She had been with them almost twenty-four seven for the last two months and they had been searching for a way out of his deal through several unconventional avenues.

"I don't get it," she finished off angrily. "Don't you trust me enough by now to tell me what's going on? I let it go thinking you'd tell me eventually but now I just don't get it! Do you think it'll scare me off?" She raised her eyebrows expectantly but didn't wait for an answer. "I'm not going anywhere Dean."

No, but I am.

Dean sighed again, hating seeing how much he was hurting her and knowing there was no way to avoid hurting her even more. But he just wasn't up for this conversation right now. He needed to figure out what the best way to tell her was. He knew he'd have to do it soon but it wasn't going to be tonight.

"We had an agreement, Tash," he said finally. "No attachment, no questions. Let's just...it was working fine, wasn't it?" he gave her a pleading look, working the puppy dog eyes as best as he could. He wasn't under any delusions that they were as powerful as his brother's, but she'd told him a dozen times she was a sucker for his long lashes and pouty lips so it was worth a try. "Can't we just keep things the way they were, just a little while longer?"

A little while longer was all he had.

It was her turn to sigh and Dean recognized the sound as one of defeat. "Fine," she said quietly, turning her back to him and laying her head back down on the pillow. "Whatever you want."

The hunter debated leaning over and giving her a kiss goodnight but wisely decided against it. He hadn't missed the accusing tone in her closing words and decided he should take the opportunity to leave. He stood up and made his way to the door, pausing and glancing back towards the small form in the bed as he closed it quietly behind him, his heart aching with dread of what the next couple of days was going to bring.

/\\/\\/\\-/\\/\\/\\-/\\/\\/\\-/\\/\\/\\-/\\/\\/\\

A/N: Very sorry, that sex scene was supposed to be short and sweet but I got carried away. Dean just does that to me – hope y'all didn't mind the extra detail. I promise, more on the hunt and the relationships in the next chapter, and some backstory. Reviews would be very much appreciated as they do encourage me so! :-)

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