Author's Note: Just a heads up, but this chapter is the reason why this fic is rated M. Enjoy!

They left the RV park at six sharp the next morning, with Dean making sure that he was the first to wake up so that Bela wouldn't beat him behind the wheel. When she finally came to and sat up in the back, her hair standing up on one side and the jacket still draped over her shoulders, Dean was smirking back at her, trying his best not to laugh.

"Jesus, you look like hell."

Bela narrowed her eyes at him. "You really are quite the charmer."

Dean shrugged. "It comes naturally, you know?"

She ignored him as she opened the door with her bare foot and slipped out, walking around and sliding into the passenger's side as Dean made a point to impatiently check his watch and roll her eyes at her slow, still sleep-heavy movement. When she sat down, Dean had already started to pull out of their parking space, and she flipped her mirror down and inspected her reflection.

"Wow. You weren't kidding," Bela said as she swiped the sides of her fingers under her eyelids to clear them of smudged, day-old eyeliner. Her lip gloss was completely gone and she knew that it was probably smudged somewhere in Dean's jacket, and she smiled to herself as she envisioned his reaction when one day, while wearing the old leather coat, he sniffed at the collar and got a whiff of strawberry lip gloss.

"Charming and honest," he smirked. "I really am a keeper."

Bela rolled her eyes at him, making him grin even wider. As they drove, Dean told her how he had planned to get to North Dakota by nightfall and find a motel to stay at before going to the shaman's house the next morning to take care of Sam and the bottle. She frowned when he said this, a thought suddenly occurring to her.

"And how are we supposed to get your brother's soul to his body if he's all the way at Bobby's?"

"Bobby's supposed to meet us at Aliyev's house. Sammy's riding up with him," he answered.

Next, she asked the obvious, albeit tentatively. "And what if Aliyev refuses to help us?"

Dean clenched his jaw and his fingers twitched around the steering wheel. She knew that he probably didn't want to think about that, but it was a question that needed to be asked. Vadim Aliyev was essentially their only hope, and if he refused to help them, then they were completely out of luck.

He didn't answer her and she took this as a sign that he wanted to drop the subject, so she didn't inquire any further.

They drove the entire day, stopping at a McDonald's at around ten in the morning to pick up some breakfast and much needed coffee. They also drove in relative silence, although it wasn't comfortable as much as it was tense, because Bela noticed that the closer and closer they got to North Dakota, the more and more apprehensive Dean got. She also noticed that he barely picked at any of his meals, only eating the hash brown from their breakfast and taking a few bites out of the sandwiches they had bought for lunch before soon discarding it without so much as a second thought.

They didn't trade playful jabs, didn't even bicker. They just drove, and soon enough they were pulling into a Holiday Inn Express parking lot in Linton, North Dakota. They lugged their bags out of the car, checked in under the names of Mr. and Mrs. Theobald Sweeney, and retreated to their room without uttering a single word to another.

As soon as they got inside Bela said something about needing to take a shower and retreated into the bathroom to do just that. Around twenty minutes later she came out of the washroom in a robe, her chocolate hair stringy and wet, to find Dean sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands forming a steeple around his nose and mouth and his eyes fixed on the ugly bottle that he had placed on the nightstand before him. She wasn't sure if he just didn't bother to look or if he actually didn't notice her return into the main room, but he didn't even so much as budge when she walked around the bed to check if he was alright.

One look, though, and she immediately knew that he wasn't.

"Dean?"

When he answered, his voice sounded strangled and, she couldn't help but notice, slightly scared.

"I don't know," he nearly whispered, never taking his eyes off of the bottle.

Bela's eyebrows slightly drew together. "What?"

"I don't know what I'm gonna do if he refuses to help us. Or, worse, if he's a god damned fake," he clarified, in regards to the question she had asked him in the car earlier that day. He still wasn't looking at her.

Bela let out a small breath she didn't realize she was holding and sat down on the bed next to Dean, instinctively bringing a small hand up to rest on his back between his shoulder blades. He tensed at first, almost like he didn't realize that she had moved to sit beside him, but he soon relaxed under her touch.

"Don't say that. But even if it doesn't work out, I'm sure you'll find something," she said softly, rubbing a small circle on his back. "Dean Winchester always finds a way. You wouldn't be who you are—where you are—if you didn't." She offered him a delicate smile.

Dean turned his head to look at her and the tips of their noses brushed against one another, but neither of them pulled back. Dean's eyes fell to her lips and her cheeks burned as she suddenly realized that two of his insanely warm—and large—fingers had come to rest on her bare knee.

Without much thought, she brought up her hand to cup the side of his face and brushed her thumb against the stubble on his cheek as he let out a deep breath through his nose, tickling her mouth. It was almost like everywhere that she touched him the tension cleared away from that part of his body, because as she stopped rubbing his back and moved to smooth a hand over his thigh, his muscles there noticeably relaxed, turning limp under her fingertips.

Neither of them knew who made the next move first, although it could have been both of them at the same time, but now they were kissing, and one of Dean's hands was cupping the back of her head while the other was curled around her shoulder, and she was still holding his face while also gently pushing all five of her fingertips into his chest. It was soft and intimate, while also incredibly sultry and intense, and soon enough Bela was halfway in Dean's lap, her hair falling around both of their faces as their lips waltzed together in a never-ending dance.

Once they broke the kiss to suck in some much needed air through pink, puffy lips, Dean moved his head down to start kissing along Bela's collarbone, nibbling gently at the pit of her neck and making her tremble in his arms. She let out a small gasp as he kissed along the underside of her jaw and tenderly rolled her earlobe between his teeth, and he felt her nails press into his scalp in response. The action made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

At some point Bela's robe came loose, exposing the mismatching bra and underwear that Dean had picked out for her the day before, and they both smiled as they kissed one another, exploring each other's bodies with their hands. Bela relished the feel of Dean's calloused hands trailing their way down her stomach, stopping at her navel to run a finger along the side of her bellybutton, before continuing down and brushing away at the hem of her panties. She let out a moan of protest but Dean just smiled against her mouth, completely forgetting the bottle and Sam and Aliyev and all of his worries for the time being.

Neither of them had realized how long they had been waiting for this moment, but it was evident that it had been a hell of a long time by the way Dean trailed kisses along the topside of her breasts and the way Bela gently dragged her nails along his spine. They were slowly melding together; their hands practically melting into one another's skin as he expertly unclasped her bra behind her back and as she pushed his shirt up his body, her hands traveling over the rough terrain of his abdomen.

Bela flipped them over so that she was straddling his waist and bent her head down to kiss along his scars; making him suck in his breath as her lips brushed against his skin, especially when she had dragged them across a diagonal scar in the dip of his hip, trailing dangerously close to his budding erection. She smirked at his reaction but before she could do anything else, Dean was pulling her up his body and rolling them over once again, pecking her once on the lips before lowering his head down, and down, and down.

She shivered as his fingers curled around the hem of her panties and he slowly, almost achingly so, dragged them down her legs and threw them to the side. He kissed up her inner thigh before he got all the way up and pointedly avoided her most sensitive and slick area, instead moving his head to nibble along the soft bump of her hipbone. The action made her let out a gasp, but her face still burned in a mixture of agitation and yearning at Dean's teasing. Soon she was pressing the palm of her hand against the top of his head, trying to force him down and finally get to the point.

He did, and not long after that she felt his hot tongue dipping between her thighs. Even though she had been expecting it, the maneuver had still somehow managed to catch her off-guard, and she pressed the heels of her palms into the mattress and shakily sucked in a breath of air. She felt Dean smirk against her and she would have smacked him on the side of the head if he hadn't swiftly flicked his tongue up against her clit, making her hips buck up against him and her nails almost tear holes into the sheets.

He placed a hand on her stomach to brace her and she shuddered as she lowered her lower half back down on the bed. Dean's smile had faded away and he was now working his mouth skillfully against her, nipping at her clit every once and a while before trailing his tongue up and down her slit to keep her barely hanging on the edge. He kept this up for a while before she finally had enough of his teasing and pressed his head into her, a fire starting to rise in her cheeks as he got the hint and paid extra attention to her delicate spot.

Soon enough she was gasping his name and clawing at the back of his neck as she arched her back over the bed, her thighs holding his head firmly against her as she lost herself in the waves of her orgasm. Dean had to forcibly pry her thighs off of him so that he could breathe, and they were both panting by the time Bela had begun to regain control of herself.

Bela brought his face up to hers so that she could kiss him, and she could taste herself on his lips and tongue and she immediately became aroused once again. Her hands shot down to the button of his jeans and she hastily pushed both his trousers and boxer briefs off of his body, clawing at his bottom as she did so. Dean bit down on her lip as her nails sunk into his cheeks and she smirked as he ground himself against her, his erection—god, he was large— pressing into the lower portion of her belly.

Before his jeans fell to the carpet Dean caught them and fished his wallet out of the front pocket, finding a condom inside before dropping his denims on the floor. He tore open the packet with his teeth but before he could do anything else Bela had swiped the condom from his hand and, in a swift, yet torturous motion that made Dean buck his throbbing manhood against the palm of her hand, rolled the rubber down his shaft.

Bela let out a shaky breath as Dean slowly pushed into her, his thumbs pressing down hard in the dip of her hips as the friction between their private parts nearly drove him mad with desire. He surely did not lack for size, Bela realized, as she struggled to adjust herself around him, and it certainly did not help that he was distracting himself during the wait by rolling each of her aching nipples between his teeth. Before long he was rocking against her in a smooth rhythm, his face buried in her neck and his teeth sunk into her collar bone like he was a vampire and she was a nice, tasty little human—which she was, but in a totally different way that made Dean dizzy with lust and want.

After a while she locked her legs around his waist and flipped them over, the swift motion causing both of them to gasp and growl respectively, and Bela rolled her hips against Dean's and tipped her head back as she grew closer and closer to her second orgasm of the night.

They lost themselves at the same time; Bela's arms shaking as she braced her hands on Dean's chest and let out a final cry of pleasure. Dean had his hands firmly clasped around her waist and he ground himself into her as he, too, teetered over the edge and a loud groan escaped from his throat and the deep depths of his belly. As she came down, Bela's arms gave out from under her weight and she fell against Dean's chest, her head landing right next to his. He soon calmed down himself and lazily rubbed a hand along her spine as she turned her head to the side and softly breathed into his neck.

They lay like that for a short while before Bela pressed her lips tenderly against his neck and rolled off of him, nestling into the side of his body. For a while it was silent, and Dean had started to think that maybe she had fallen asleep when, suddenly, with her eyes closed and in a heavily drowsy voice, she said,

"We're so bloody damaged."

He almost laughed, but caught himself, and instead whispered back, "Yeah, but at least we're damaged together."

And that night, Bela Talbot fell asleep smiling.

A/N: Alright! Tell me what you think, because I had a hell of a hard time trying to finish this chapter and almost punched a hole in my computer because of it.