A/N THIS IS THE THIRD AND FINAL PART IN THE DARK RIDERS TRILOGY..THE STORY IS COMPLETE AND WILL BE POSTED WEEKLY.
SUMMARY- FOLLOW DEAN AND SAM ON THEIR JOURNEY TO ENGLAND WHERE THEY MEET THE LAST SEER AND REALIZE THE TERRIBLE PRICE THEY MUST PAY TO BEAT THE DEMON BALIAZAR AND SAVE HUMANITY.
Dark riders-http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/845.html
Dark Riders 2 Storm Warning -http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/2808.html
MANY THANKS TO LOU FOR THE BEAUTIFUL WORK OF ART, OUR BANNER
AND TO feather_touch FOR BEING OUR FABULOUS BETA THANKS FOR ALL YOUR HARD WORK.


HONORE ET AMORE CHAPTER 1 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/2008/09/20/
HONORE ET AMORE CHAPTER 2
Scotland, the Bay of Oban was beautiful. Or maybe he was glad to get his feet back on solid ground. Dean’s eyes scanned the area, trying to get his bearing. He and Sam would be returning later to get a boat to take them across the Firth of Lorn to Castle Duarte where they would meet the old Seer.

They found their way to a small inn where Sam paid for their accommodations as their trunks were hauled up to adjoining rooms. Baths were ordered and within the hour they were seated eating a hearty stew in the small dining area. Their presence was noted by most of the locals and other curious patrons. The American cowboy and the tall Englishman stood out like a couple of sore thumbs.

Sitting at the small table they were approached by a dark haired man who looked to be in his late thirties. The man motioned for a round of drinks before he sat down making himself comfortable. Leaning in, the man’s deep voice began, “My name is Robert MacLean, I’ve been waiting for you for the past three days.” Taking a drink he continued in his rich Scottish brogue, “He said you would be here. We have a boat. Get what you need. There is a staircase that leads to the alley. I’ll meet you there.”

Turning to Sam, Dean leaned in close telling him to stay with Robert while he went to get their weapons. Dean would go first, then Sam and Robert would follow. Once in the room, Dean checked the guns making sure they were loaded, he grabbed extra ammunition, and a few other items they may need. He wasn’t sure exactly what they would be up against, but his instincts were on alert. He quickly made his way down the stairs and waited for Sam and Robert.

Robert lead them through the twisting cobblestone streets before coming to a small dock where a fishing boat was waiting. “This is Duncan, the captain of this fine vessel,” Robert playfully teased the young man. Once aboard Dean was aware how the crew continually glanced over at him and Sam. Sitting down, Robert explained, “They all want to see the Guardian and the Seer. All these men are willing to risk their lives to keep you alive.”

The closer they got to the Isle of Mull, Dean saw a change in the crew. Gone was the easy banter of the men, replaced by tense bodies as they prepared to land on the rocky shore. Robert spoke quietly to Duncan before he, Sam, and Dean disembarked. Three horses were waiting and they ascended the steep slope to the Castle Duarte.

Dean was aware they were being watched the entire time, so far he had counted seven men hidden among the rocks and the ruins. Since no move had been made against them, he reckoned they were the good guys, the ones Shamus told them about.

The small torch barely illuminated the narrow passage as Robert easily navigated through the maze of corridors of the old castle. Sam stayed close behind Robert, Dean on Sam’s heels. Dean was always aware of the eyes glancing from him to Sam. All these men were prepared to die. He no longer had any doubts of the weight of the burden that he and Sam had to bear. Robert stopped before a massive wooden door. Knocking he waited as the heavy door was unbarred and opened. The three men entered the room; several men in brown robes were standing around a bed in the corner. They parted making way for Sam and Dean to advance.

So this was the previous Seer

From what Shamus had told them between his health and his burden the man before them was aged beyond his years. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he said motioning for Dean and Sam to draw closer. “Our time is short, IT knows you are here, IT has sent others to stop you. We must hurry, there is much to tell.”

“There are things that must be done before you can kill the beast. IT will be searching for you. As long as your bond remains strong you will be able to stay hidden from ITS eyes. You still have time, you have until the night of the autumn equinox. On that night the ritual must take place. On that night you can kill him.”

“Why didn’t you kill it?” Dean inquired, if he and Sam were to succeed he had to know. “What went wrong?”

The old Seer looked down, not meeting either of the young men’s eyes. “There was much we did not know. Our bond was not strong enough, but yours is. I can feel the strength of yours.” The Seer coughed loudly, waving towards Robert. “They are here.”

A moment later the sound of gunfire filled the air. Handing Sam his colt Dean yelled over his shoulder as he followed Robert towards the door. “Sam, stay here, find out all we need to know. I’ll be back.”

“Dean!” Sam yelled as the men started out the door. “Get back here!”

With a smile Dean winked at Sam, before pointing to one of the robed men, “Shut and bar this door as soon as we leave. Do whatever you have to protect them.”

Dean followed Robert, quickly moving through castle. The gunfire was drawing closer as the two men made their way higher to the ancient embattlement. Looking down, both men were aware they were outnumbered by the large group of men below them. Running to the stairs, they quickly made there way down to join in the fray.

The nearer they came to the battle, Dean’s frustration mounted as he was constantly being pushed back, having someone step in front of him trying to protect him at all times. Dean had managed to get several shots off, watching as several men fell.

Robert noticed his surprise. “They are just men, Dean. Their greed and hatred make it easy for them to be seduced by false promises. There are others who would have you fail. Attempts will be made to stop you. The reaches of evil are far and wide."

Hearing shouts from below, Robert grabbed Dean’s arm. Having been foretold of the battle by James, Robert knew it was time for their return. He had given James the time he needed alone with Sam. Now he was needed to ensure Sam and Dean's escape from the island. “We need to get back, they have broken through the left wing. The Seers are in danger.”

Dean didn’t need to be told twice as he and Robert raced down the stairs. He had to get back to Sam. He couldn’t fail now. The corridor was littered with bodies as they approached the huge wooden door. Hearing footsteps, Robert pounded on the door, yelling to be let in. The heavy door was soon open, hands pulling the two men quickly inside. It took all their strength for Robert, Dean and two robed men to close the heavy door and bar it as a surge of men outside tried to gain entry.

Dean ran to Sam’s side looking from one Seer to the other. “We have to get out of here.”

The tired face of the old Seer looked at Sam. “I have given you all the knowledge I can. I have foreseen my death. I will not be leaving here. But the two of you must survive.”

Dean wasn’t about to leave James here, outnumbered and defenseless. How many more deaths would be on his conscience? How could he abandon a helpless old man? Turning Dean looked at Robert, “Get them out of here to someplace safe. I’ll cover your backs.”

The Seer nodded at Sam then to Robert.

Dean was never comfortable when anyone was behind him except Sam. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Robert stepped behind him, he never expected the hit when it came from Sam.
***************************************************************


Stepping onto solid ground after two weeks at sea was heavenly. Sam closed his eyes briefly and sent a heartfelt thank you skywards.

Dean had spent the entire journey checking, cleaning and then re-checking their supply of weapons. While Sam had spent a substantial amount of time with his nose buried in the books Marie had given them, trying to glean any information on the evil they would soon be facing.

A couple of days into the journey Dean had set up an exercise regime for them both. Their small cabin was used for continued knife practice and the boring but very necessary muscle building and strengthening exercises. Dean was religious in his daily exercise routine, adding homemade weights, books or sometimes a well placed boot in the middle of Sam’s back to make the workouts more strenuous. Sam had to admit that while he didn’t particularly like doing the workouts they were paying off. He was now able, if the need arose, to not only carry Dean’s dead weight, but thanks to their five A.M. runs around the ship he could now carry Dean’s weight at a run. No mean feat. Dean might well be a few inches shorter than him, but he was all muscle and very heavy. If the crew noticed their odd behavior Sam hoped they would put it down to the fact that he was English and clearly eccentric!

Eccentric or not one thing had been puzzling Sam ever since their first conversation with Shamus. And that was Protection. Shamus had said “Dean the Amulet will hide you and by means of your close relationship you will also hide Sam from IT’S searching eyes. Make no mistake here, if your relationship falters Sam will be exposed and you will be found.”

As he lay on his bed, Dean’s head resting on his shoulder, their breathing gradually slowing Sam began to wonder once more how exactly that protection worked.

Even engaged in thought Sam was still very much aware of Dean’s soft lips against his neck. Licking, nibbling and sucking. Sucking! “Dean don’t you dare! I can’t afford to have marks on my neck where they will be seen.”

“Sammy” Dean said in that oh so soft post sex husky drawl, “you were thinking again.”

“How did you know?” Sam asked

Dean wriggled taking some of the weight on his arms so he could lift his head and look at him.

Sam’s heart skipped a beat as he stared at the beautiful face above him. In sunlight Dean shone with vitality, the light accentuating the sun bleached tips of his dark blond hair, brought out the little freckles on his cheek bones and nose. Added that mischievous sparkle to his eyes and showed the lines of merriment at the side of his eyes, the little dimples when he laughed.

But it was in low light that Sam thought Dean was transformed into an almost magical beauty. The absence of bright light evened out his skin tone, hiding some of the bruises and battle scars. The soft glow from the lamps, highlighting his cheekbones, the heavy muscles of his shoulders and back, cast a satin glow over his soft tanned skin. A poke to the ribs had him gasp in a much needed breath of air.

“Sammy you’re thinking again.”

“Huh?” Was all his brain could come up with on short notice.

“You get this frown on your face and your eyes narrow, become sort of squinty like when you look into a bright light and you mumble.”

“I do not mumble”. In his own defense he added,” Besides it’s your fault you’re distracting as hell.”

“So what you thinking about?”

“Remember what Shamus said about protection?”

Dean stilled for a moment “What about it?”

“Well Shamus said the amulet protected you and by means of our close relationship, me also. So I was wondering what exactly he meant by that. Does he mean that I have to be within a certain distance of you or did he mean…?”

Dean had that amused look on his face the one that said I know something you don’t know. “Did he mean what Sammy?”

Sometimes Sam hated that smug smirk. “You know. Dean…” Damn him, Dean was enjoying this far too much.

“Do you really think if we didn’t… you know… that he would be able to find us?”

“Yes I do, which is why you’re not slacking on the bedroom duties Sammy.”

“Why does if have to be me? Why can’t it be the other way round?” Sam questioned.

“Because and I quote. ’Dean the Amulet will hide you and by means of your close relationship YOU will also hide Sam.’” Dean’s smug self satisfied look was back on his face, “note the emphasis on the you! Sam, that means I get to take care of you, Sammy. Anyway you’ve never complained before “

“Dean I’m not complaining, just wondering…”

“Well why you’re wondering, let’s do a bit more protecting. . .” Dean’s lips pressed against the smooth skin of Sam’s stomach, tongue darting out teasing, tasting.

“Dean we just did…” Sam squirmed.

“Sammy,” Dean breathed against the now clenched abdominal muscles beneath him, before looking up with lust blown pupils, “you can never have too much protection.” Dean whispered in that sexy drawl of his that went straight to Sam’s groin.


“Sam! Quit daydreaming and help with the luggage.” Dean shoved a large leather bag at his chest.

Grabbing onto the bag, Sam took his first look around what was obviously a thriving port. Small fishing boats vied with the larger passenger boats for space. Seagulls congregated around a nearby boat ready at a moments notice to swoop in and obtain a free meal

Picking up one of the heavier bags he noticed several people staring. It was as he feared, Dean drew attention. A lot of unwanted attention. Even without the strange clothes and accent, Sam was convinced he would cause a stir. Small communities tended to know everyone and his handsome partner certainly drew more than his fair share of admiring glances. Well there might be nothing he could do about Dean’s natural good looks but he could and would take care of his clothes as soon as they reached London.

The inn was small and cozy, the lime washed walls were hung with the work of local artists mostly seascapes. Sam paused on his way up the narrow stairs to look at one of Castle Duarte, the home of James the previous Seer who they hoped to make contact with shortly.

Once he had deposited his luggage and cleaned up he sought Dean’s company for a bite to eat. Walking into the bar at lunchtime was an experience, as he opened the door the usual sounds of men’s voices, the clinking of bottles and glasses, the clatter of trays and plates stopped. Much to Sam’s unease every one of the twenty or so faces turned to look at them before slowly returning to their business. Sam nudged Dean towards a corner table while he went to place their orders. Looking at the blackboard behind the bar he quickly chose mutton stew and a steamed syrup sponge with custard. Paying for their meal plus a couple of pints of the local brew his eyes sought out his partner.

Sam was pleased to note that for appearances sake Dean left the Stetson in his room and slipped one of his smaller guns into the back of his jeans. Although he looked relaxed Sam was sure he was coiled tighter than a spring and had already assessed all twenty or so patrons. A casual glance from his partner was anything but. In that single glance Dean had made a threat assessment, categorized each person, picked out those he should pay extra attention to. Sam wondered if Dean was even aware he did it, he’d been doing it so long it became second nature to him. Whereas Sam had to make a conscious effort to even remember to do it.

Tucking into their hearty meal he noticed a man Dean had been surreptitiously paying attention rise from his chair, at the same time as Dean’s hand scratched his back.

Keeping his hands in sight the tall bearded man introduced himself as Robert MacLean, apparently he was expecting them. Showing them a copy of the runes on Dean’s knife as conformation of who he was. He arranged to meet them in the back alley telling them that time was short and he had a boat standing by to take them to mull. Making a quick stop to collect a few more weapons and to remind him to keep his wits about him Dean decided it was time to go. Leaving Sam and Robert to follow on behind.

The small craft that was to take them to the Isle of Mull was skippered by Duncan who bore an uncanny resemblance to Robert. Thankfully there wasn’t too much of a swell so the short journey didn’t take too long. Duncan explained that if the sea was rough the crossing could take twice as long.

Used to being stared at Sam hadn’t taken much notice of the curious looks of the crew but it seemed Dean did. When he commented on it to Robert, he quietly explained that everyone had been keenly awaiting the new Seer’s and Guardian’s arrival.

Sam felt his breath catch in his throat when he got his first glimpse of Castle Duarte.
The old castle stood atop a grass hill at one end of the island. His eyes were drawn to the far right of the building to the top most window. A strange tingling sensation at the base of his skull had him rubbing the back of his neck.

“Sam?” Dean nudged his arm.

“Huh?”

“You okay? Dean’s eyes were flicking from the castle to Sam’s face in concern.

“Yeah, it’s like I can feel him, feel his presence, a sort of tingling.” He tried to explain the strange sensation.

Robert interrupted, “that’s just what James said yesterday. Said he could feel you getting closer.”

Transferring to a small dingy to navigate between the rocks they came ashore on a rocky finger of land. Two men were already waiting with three horses to take them swiftly to the castle. To the casual observer the castle seemed deserted, the loud echoing of their boots adding to the illusion. Robert swiftly led them through the maze of rooms, narrow corridors and winding stone steps until they came to a very solid looking oak door, complete with iron stud work and huge ornate hinges. Robert knocked on the huge door, beyond could be heard the sound of a heavy lock being turned and a bar being lifted.

They were hastily beckoned inside. Several brown robed men stood guard over a frail figure in a high bed. For the first time Sam became aware of the enormity of what they were about to undertake. The men in Oban, the skipper and his crew and the solemn group of Brothers, these were all highly dedicated men. A quick glance at Dean’s face confirmed he was having similar thoughts as he and Sam walked the last few feet of a journey that had taken them the best part of three weeks and thousands of miles to complete.

There before them lay the old Seer. Sam wasn’t sure if it was the oppressive atmosphere inside the room but he suddenly felt very cold. He shivered rubbing his arms before drawing the collar of his coat up and putting his hands in his pockets.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said motioning for Dean and Sam to draw closer. “Our time is short, IT knows you are here, IT has sent others to stop you. We must hurry, there is much to tell.”
“There are things that must be done before you can kill the beast. IT will be searching for you. As long as your bond remains strong you will be able to stay hidden from ITS eyes. You still have time; you have until the night of the autumn equinox. On that night the ritual must take place. On that night you can kill him.”

Sam looked about him no one else seemed to feel the cold. His teeth were chattering so much he had expected his breath to form clouds in front of his face.

Looking at Sam, Dean saw him shivering, his teeth chattering. “Are you alright?”

“Cold, don’t you feel it?”

Dean looked at him askance, shaking his head before turning his attention to James.


“Why didn’t you kill it?” Dean inquired; if he and Sam were to succeed he had to know. “What went wrong?”

The old Seer looked down, not meeting either of the young men’s eyes. “There was much we did not know. Our bond was not strong enough, but yours is. I can feel the strength of yours.” The Seer coughed loudly, waving towards Robert. “They are here.”

A moment later the sound of gunfire filled the air. Handing Sam his colt Dean yelled over his shoulder as he followed Robert towards the door. “Sam, stay here, find out all we need to know. I’ll be back.”

“Dean!” Sam yelled as the men started out the door. “Get back here.”

With a smile Dean winked at Sam, before pointing to one of the robed men, “Shut and bar this door as soon as we leave. Do whatever you have to protect them.”

Once Dean was gone the heavy oak door was securely bolted from the inside. Sam leant his forehead against the door hoping Dean would be careful, his absence already felt. The old Seer beckoned to Sam patting the bed, Sam sat down carefully afraid of hurting the frail almost nonexistent body hidden beneath the sheet and blankets.

Time had not been kind to the old man. He looked like a living skeleton; paper thin translucent skin covered his sunken features. Age spots and deep wrinkles covered his face, neck, and hands. Long wispy strands of snow white hair hung down to his thin shoulders. But what caught and held Sam’s attention were his eyes; they were a sparkling blue and very much alive. He beckoned Sam to lean closer; as he did two bony hands grabbed his head and held on with amazing strength.

The old man’s eyes seemed to grow, the pupils widening. Sam felt as if he were falling into them. A flash of brilliant light and Sam was standing in the pouring rain lightning streaked across the sky before grounding itself in a small group of trees on a hill to his right.

“So we meet at last Seer.” A cold voice spoke from behind him. Turning Sam could see no one. Tall dark shapes hid the speaker from his view.

“I have waited a long time to see who would take the old man’s place.” Incredibly cold breath puffed against his cheek, Sam was unable to move more than his eyes. A cold finger trailed down his cheek and neck causing an involuntary shiver.” I am coming for you boy and just as before there is nothing you can do to stop me.”
CAN YOU
The scene shifted showing the room they now occupied. It showed the old Seer in his bed, Dean at his side smoke curling up from his gun. The heavy oak door torn off of its hinges and in walked a younger version of Shamus. With a flick of his head Dean was thrown into the back wall. Screaming in pain, blood poured from his nose and ears. Dean started choking; blood bubbled up his throat and sprayed out of his mouth each time he coughed. Eyes bulging as he desperately tried to breath. Finally his body convulsed arching away from the wall before going limp. Sam was left in no doubt that Dean was dead. His beautiful face now lax, blood dripping from his nose and chin to pool on the floor.

Noise of gunfire reached the door but Sam was still locked into the shared visions with James. When finally they ended Sam gasped falling backwards onto the floor, lungs heaving with the effort to breath.

“Now you have seen what I have faced. Unlike me, you must not be weak. You must finish what I was unable to. Look at me Sam!” The old man insisted, beckoning with insistent hands for Sam to get up, to come closer “my time is near; I have left you with one final vision to be opened when you are at a place of safety. Not before. You must get Dean, away from here now. It is not his destiny to die here this day. It is mine. Quick, time is running out you must make him leave with you otherwise all is lost. And from what I have seen and what I have felt he will not go willingly. Do what you know you must to get him to safety.”


From outside the oak door came the sound of running feet and gunshots, a fist pounding on wood and Robert’s voice yelling to be let in. The door was quickly thrown open and the two men pulled inside.

The tired face of the old Seer looked at Sam. “I have given you all the knowledge I can. I have foreseen my death. I will not be leaving here. But the two of you must survive.” He looked pointedly at Dean and then back to Sam. A silent final message passing between the two Seers.




Dean wasn’t about to leave James here, outnumbered and defenseless. How many more deaths would be on his conscience? How could he abandon a helpless old man? Turning Dean looked at Robert, “Get them out of here to someplace safe. I’ll cover your backs.”


At a nod from James, Robert stepped behind Dean and as predicted he turned to look at the other man giving Sam the opportunity to take him down with out tipping him off. His right fist thudded into the side of Dean’s head with enough force to take him down in one punch. Sam could not bear the thought of having to hit him twice if the first punch failed to knock him out and only stunned him. Why oh why did Dean have to be so stubborn? Why did he have to have a protective streak a mile wide? Because without those sometimes annoying traits he would cease to be Dean. So as he watched Dean crumple to the floor he forgave himself, there had been no other choice. Dean would never have left the old Seer he would have stayed fought to the bitter end and been killed.



Robert easily caught him and smiled as he looked at Sam. “The Seer always said Dean was too brave for his own good,” he said as he hoisted Dean over his shoulder. At Sams frown he continued, “he’s not a Seer for nothing Sam. He’s known things about the two of you for years, knowing him he’s seen them.”

Handing Sam a torch, Robert walked to a paneled wall opening the secret entrance, waiting for Sam to step inside. With a glance back Sam watched as the old Seer took a breath before his head slumped down to his chest.

Sam hastily swallowed the bile that rose hot and acidic up his throat there was not time now to be weak. Taking the torch from Robert he followed the older man through a door hidden in the paneling.

Sam had to duck as they made their way through the low passage way. Robert giving him directions as he went. Sam noted the decline as they went. “Castle Duarte once belonged to the Clan MacLean,” Robert explained. “And God willing one day will be
reclaimed by the rightful heirs.”

Many old castles and homes had secret passages and castle Duarte was no exception, this one leading Sam and his Dean cargo through the cobweb covered narrow space until it opened out slightly and daylight could be seen. Telling Sam to wait Robert offloaded Dean to Sam and went to check that the coast was clear. At a yell that all was clear Sam found that the passage opened into a cave beyond. He could see Duncan and two crew members were waiting for them.

Carefully supporting Dean’s head he accepted Robert’s help to lower him into the bottom of the small craft

“Sam you’ll be safe in Oban for a few days. If you leave immediately you will draw suspicion. Duncan will be close if you need anything, he can help. Tell Dean I’m sorry, but he could not be lost.”

Turning to Duncan, Robert‘s voice was urgent. “Get them out of here, I’m going back.

“Father your cause has not been lost.” Duncan motioned to Sam and Dean, “as long as they are still alive. Come with us.” The young man implored, tears falling down his cheeks.

“No son, I cannot, it’s my duty.” Robert held his son tightly, “Take care of your mother.” Prying himself from his son’s embrace, Robert grasped Sam’s arm in a bond of brotherhood. “Sam it’s up to you, you cannot fail,” Robert’s voice momentarily faltered as he glanced between his son and the Seer.

With a nod, Sam looked towards Duncan before he replied. “We shall not fail. Godspeed.”

Tags: a ngst, au, horror, nc-17, romance
Current Music: BREAKING BENJAMIN, DANCE WITH THE DEVIL

Title: Dark Riders 2 Storm Warning
Authors: ForsakenBeloved
Pairings: Sam/Dean
Ratings: NC 17/adult
Warnings: Slash/Angst/Violence/Wincest/Au
Disclaimer: Don’t Belong To Us
Summary: Sam follows Dean to his ranch in the flint hills of Kansas. When disaster strikes, will an ancient prophecy and a pact made by their parents before they were born, bring them closer together, or tear them apart?
Status: Complete. Posting weekly
Word Count: 38630 APROX
A/N: Thank you to all the readers who have asked about a second story. Well here it is, hope it does not disapoint. The story is complete and will be posted once a week [or you ask real nice and then we might post sooner lol] This is the second in a series of stories that follow Dean and Sams adventures.
A big thank you to Louy for the awesome banner thanks mate, you rock!
Previous story DARK RIDERS can be found here http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/

Storm Warning Chapter 1 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/2808.html
Storm Warning Chapter 2 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/2808.html
Storm Warning Chapter 3 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/3113.html
Storm Warning Chapter 4 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/2008/05/17/
Storm Warning Chapter 5 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/3774.html
Storm Warning chapter 6 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/3981.html
Storm Warning chapter 7 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/4221.html
Storm Warning Chapter 8 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/2008/06/13/
STORM WARNING CHAPTER 9 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/2008/06/21/
STORM WARNING CHAPTER 10 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/4956.html
STORM WARNING CHAPTER 11
AUTHORS NOTE - THIS IS THE FINAL CHAPTER OF STORM WARNING. DARKR RIDERS STORY 3 HONORE ET AMORE. WILL BE POSTED SHORTLY AND WILL FOLLOW DEAN AND SAM TO ENGLAND AND A FINAL SHOWDOWN WITH BALIAZAR.

“Jesus, Dean, I can't get my head round all of this can you? It’s too much to take in.”

“I can't believe it. God, I need some air.” Dean leaned his back against the closed door.

Sam looked up a little worried, “You’re going out?”

Walking back to the bunk Dean grabbed his boots, "No, we're going out” Dean picked up Sam's boots, handing them to him, he asked, "Need some help?"

“Yeah, if you don’t mind, my back’s a bit sore.”

Trying to be careful Dean helped Sam put his boots on, then reaching his hand down he pulled Sam up.

“Where are we going? Don’t think I’m up for a long walk,” holding onto Dean’s hand he rubbed his thumb over the warm flesh. Craving the feel of skin against skin even if only for a few seconds.

"Think you can manage a short ride?" Dean asked placing his arm around Sam's waist letting him lean on him for support.

Not wanting to disappoint him Sam agreed, “Yeah, I think so,” though privately he wondered if he would be able to. Merlin would be eager to run after not being ridden for a while and would probably pull like a train.

They made their way slowly to the door. Once outside Dean made Sam sit on the old bench. “Wait here, I'll get Blaze.”

Could it be possible that what Shamus said was true that they had been destined to be together? Sam thought back to the first time he had seen Dean. It was strange but there had been an instant attraction even if he had not fully understood it at the time. Watching the handsome retreating figure Sam knew he would move heaven and earth to keep him.


Dean hoped as he walked to the corral that he was doing the right thing. He had to be careful of Sam's injury. He just couldn't stay here for now. He didn't want to see anyone but Sam; he wasn't ready to share him, especially with Shamus. Blaze trotted up to meet him, he was as eager as Dean to get away. Dean made short work of putting on the bridle, pulling affectionately on the soft black ears, “Hello, you handsome black devil. Gonna take me an Sammy for a ride an you better behave, otherwise you’ll be missing a few vital stallion parts.”

Merlin feeling a bit left out butted Dean in the back with his large head. “Sorry, boy, but Sam’s not up to taking you out yet,” he scratched the soft pink nose then pushed the large horse away from the gate so he and Blaze could leave.

It didn't take long for Dean to return leading Blaze by his reins. “If I push the bench over, do you think you can climb up behind me?” With a wink, he teased, "You think you can hold on?”

Sam smiled as he realized what Dean had been planning “Sure, no problem.”

Dean pushed the bench to the edge, helping Sam step up he waited to make sure it wouldn’t tip over. Grabbing the reins and using the steps Dean swung his leg over Blaze’s broad back before he guided him as near to the bench as he could, waiting for Sam to climb behind him.

Carefully seating himself, Sam wrapped his arms tightly round Dean’s slim waist molding himself to the warm body. He was so aware of Dean’s frame in front of him. God, this was going to be torture.

“Hold on tight, Sammy, wouldn’t want to lose you now.” Dean told him as Blaze started a slow walk. Dean loved the feel of Sam’s embrace. He had missed the closeness they had shared before he let his foolish pride get in the way of everything.

All thoughts of the conversation they’d just had and the pain from his back disappeared The gentle back and forth flex of hips was playing havoc with Sam’s self control, he could already feel his jeans getting uncomfortably tight and he knew that Dean would be able to feel the hard bulge pressed against his lower back.

Dean could feel warm breath against his neck, and could feel Sam’s hardness through the heavy fabric of his jeans. This was going to be a shorter ride than he had planned. He guessed he wasn’t the only one who had missed being together. Turning Blaze he headed for the nearest pond.

Sam felt himself getting increasingly turned on; his questing fingers sought and found the buttons to Dean’s shirt, undoing enough to slip his hand in to lay against his lover’s quivering stomach muscles. He heard Dean suck in a sharp breath as his fingers found and gently pinched a nipple. Loosening Dean’s belt with his other hand and undoing the buttons, Sam slipped a hand slowly inside, surprised to find Dean naked under his jeans, his eager hand closing round silk clad steel. Dean moaned, his head falling back to rest against Sam’s shoulder affording a wonderful expanse of neck to feast on. Wiping his thumb over the crown collecting the escaping fluid he removed his hand from Deans jeans, pushing his thumb into Dean’s panting mouth. At the same time he latched onto the soft skin of his neck gently nipping and sucking,. Dean mirroring his actions with his thumb. Groaning against the heated skin trapped between his teeth Sam ground his erection against Dean’s back. Quickly removing his thumb Sam once again grasped Dean’s hot heavy erection squeezing and pulling in time to the gentle sway of his hips and the horses’ movements. Feeling the now familiar tingle up his spine Sam bit hard into Dean’s shoulder as he exploded in his jeans, feeling Dean arch back against him as he came coating Sam’s hand and his own stomach before going limp in Sam’s arms

Dean hadn’t been expecting Sam’s actions. Not that he really minded but this wasn’t exactly the place he planned on being when they were together again. Dean shuddered as Sam’s long fingers stroked him finding the perfect rhythm. He felt a warm tongue glide over his neck where moments before teeth had nipped at the sensitive skin. God, he had missed Sam’s touch. He almost jumped when Sam’s thumb brushed over the head of his aching cock. Sam pushed his thumb up to Dean’s mouth. He could taste himself as he licked and sucked before gently biting down. This was a first; he had never experienced anything like this before. Between Sam’s fingers and Blaze’s motion it wasn’t long before Dean could feel his control start to slip away. He could hear Sam’s breath hitch and knew that Sam was as close as he was. A few more strokes of Sam’s knowing fingers and Dean couldn’t take any more before he was spilling over Sam’s tight fist. Spent Dean collapsed against Sam.

“God, Dean, we should do this more often,” Sam’s breathing gradually slowed “Merlin’s turn next time.”

Dean snorted a laugh. “Damn, Sam, I was just planning on a little fresh air and talking. I know it’s been awhile, but I wasn’t expecting that. Not saying I didn’t like it, cause I did. But Merlin’s gonna have to wait.”

“All joking aside, what do you make of what was said?” he tucked Dean in, and rebuttoned his jeans. “I mean, do you even believe any of it?”

"With everything I've seen, I know anything is possible. I've heard about deals being made all the time. I just never figured I was one of them."

“Not just you, Dean, if we’re to believe Shamus, then both our lives were planned even before we were born.”

As they approached the pond, Dean's mind raced. He knew Sam was thinking some of the same things. He waited for Sam to slide down before he slid down next to him. Walking to the water’s edge, he leaned down and washed his hands, wiping them on his jeans to dry them. Standing he waited as Sam did the same, holding out his hand to help him up.

Picking what looked like a comfy spot on the grass Sam eased himself down. So many thoughts raced through his mind clambering for attention but one in particular would not be ignored. Were the feelings they had for each other genuine or manufactured to suit a higher purpose?

Sitting next to Sam, Dean knew what was foremost on Sam's mind. "I don't care what they say, I know how I feel about you. Nothing, no plans, no destiny, had anything to do with that."

His too expressive face must have betrayed his fears because Sam found himself listening to the answer to his unspoken question. “How can you be sure, Dean, I mean how can we be sure of anything? How do we know we’re not still being manipulated? Look what happened when you tried to leave. If Shamus is to be believed, my getting sick was no accident.”

“I refuse to believe it. Do you believe Shamus or Ruth or Isaac created the tornado? He said we’re all human. If it were destiny it would have been easy. There was nothing easy about what we’ve been through. Do you doubt how you feel about me?”

“I’m as sure as I can be that what I feel for you is genuine, but how can we know for sure?” Drawing up his legs Sam hugged his knees, sighing, “At the end of the day does it even matter, as long as it’s real to us?”

Nudging Sam’s shoulder, Dean grinned, “So if it’s all planned then from now on everything between us should be smooth sailing. You honestly believe that? I’m just going to fall into line and no more arguing, or being selfish, or anything else. Come on, Sam, you know me better than that.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Hey, I was just thinking... if I get the visions d’you get something too? I mean it’s hardly fair, I get blinding headaches and you get what? A necklace?”

“I know I’m right.” With a leer, Dean raised his eyebrow, “Besides I know how to make you feel better. And I got a knife. I don’t know how this works. Never been part of destiny before.”

Sam could feel the huge smile spreading across his face "Yes, you do know me. As for destiny, guess Shamus can tell us what we need to know."

“After everything you still trust him?” Dean asked. “We should have been told. How could they stand by and let all those things happen? How many lies have we been told? To think our parents did this to us. Now he just walks in here and says it‘s up to us to save mankind.”

“They lied by omission. God, Dean, I don't want to have to think about all of this. I want to remember my parents as they were, loving and kind, not making deals that would involve me in Christ knows what.”

“I’m happy for you, Sam that you can do that, but I can’t. Maybe if I had the life you had, I could too, but I didn’t. What about your dreams to rebuild the ranch?”

“I said I'd like to remember them like that, but I'm scared that all I'll ever remember is how they lied to me. How they lied to both of us.”

Standing, Dean reached out to help Sam up. “Come on, we need to get you back. I know we’re going to have to hear what Shamus has to say, but not until you’re ready to talk to him.” Taking Sam’s face in his hand Dean looked into his eyes. “Sammy, I know your parents loved you, there‘s no way they couldn‘t.”

*************************************************************************************

Ruth busied herself around the small cabin kitchen. She had hoped that the conversation with the boys could have waited a bit longer. She had grown so fond of both of them. The look of hurt and betrayal in Dean’s eyes had been almost too much to bear. She looked over at the table where Isaac and Shamus were sitting, and knew they were feeling the same.

“Well we made a fine mess of that,” she said, close to tears.

Shamus settled himself in an armchair, reaching into an inner jacket pocket he drew out a small wooden pipe and leather tobacco pouch. Opening the small pouch he proceeded to fill his pipe, Shamus always did his best thinking while smoking. Lighting his pipe he sat back, soon filling the small cabin with the smell of pipe tobacco. “O, ‘tis a shame for sure They’ll get over it. Wee Sam’s not one to bear a grudge for long.” Frowning he added “Not too sure about that young ejit!

Getting up Isaac walked to the stove pulling his wife into a tight embrace, waiting for her to compose herself. Once Ruth had settled Isaac poured three cups of coffee setting them on the table, before he and Ruth rejoined Shamus. “You’re going to have to talk to Sam. Dean’s not going to listen to us.”

Hearing voices Shamus walked to the window, sending up small puffs of smoke like a miniature steam train. “I’ll be having a talk with them both when they get back from their little jaunt.” Shamus watched almost enviously as Dean helped Sam to mount the big black horse. Finally acknowledging that his role of caretaker was over, the position more than ably filled, if Ruth and Isaac were to be believed, by the young man sitting in front.

“He’s not an idiot, Shamus. We know you were worried about Sam but we feel the same way about Dean. He can hold a grudge.” Ruth chided.

“Don’t be fooled by the country gentleman, butter wouldn’t melt on the image the lad projects. Young Sammy can be a holy terror and a devious little shite when he’s a mind.
What’s he like, this new guardian? Looks capable enough, but what’s he like inside what makes him tick?”

Know you’re enemy Shamus, m’lad, if he was to convince the boys he would need all the information he could get his hands on.

“He’s more than capable. Dean’s had a hard life. After Mary’s death, John took the boy and they just drifted for a few years. We would hear things from time to time. He taught Dean to hunt when he was still a boy. He’s done what he had to in order to survive. He’s a proud man, Shamus. He believes in what he does. He will be a good Guardian.” Ruth said with pride for the young man.

“In his own way John prepared him for what was to come.” Isaac added. “What we had to do was easy compared to what they will be facing. We still have to help make sure they’re ready.”

“How’s Sam’s training coming along? He’s a natural with horses and books. And a quick study when properly motivated. Regretfully, I was hindered in the lad’s preparation by his ma, a very strong-willed lass. Determined she was that her son have a normal childhood.”

Shamus smiled at an almost forgotten memory of Sarah, with her pale skin, blue eyes, and red hair, she was a real beauty. But as her coloring would suggest she had a temper to match it. Young Sam had followed him like a young puppy, his gentle manner a gift when working with horses. But it was his thirst for knowledge that got the pair of them in trouble. Sam had asked about the old shillelagh and seizing the opportunity Shamus had started teaching him the ancient art of Irish stick fighting. Trouble was that he forgot that all young children liked to show off….especially if they had an audience.

Wee Sam had picked his moment, unfortunately in front of a wealthy potential buyer. He’d carefully sized up his opponent the unwitting carrier of a cane and challenged the man to hit him. Playing along, the unfortunate man had ended up on the end of the “jig kick” an illegal, well if there were rules and it was a fighting competition, move that blocked the attacker’s move then disabled him with a swift kick between the legs. Needless to say, Sarah had not been amused. The young lass had no need for a stick. Her tongue was all the weapon she needed, the lashing he received had him ducking for cover for several days.

“Sam has trained very hard. He still has more work to do. Dean’s a good teacher, but he’s a bit overly protective of Sam. Dean will follow Sam. It’s more than the bond.”
Ruth said as she refilled their cups. “You have plenty of tricks up your sleeve, Shamus, the time has come for you to share them. They‘re going to need all the help they can get.”

Laughing, Isaac looked at his old friend, “I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes. You have two very angry young men, who still have a lot of questions. You’re going to have to watch your temper. We know you love Sam like he’s your own, but Sam’s not so easily influenced anymore. He made his choice as well.”


Ruth watched with amusement as Shamus looked around for someplace to empty his pipe. “Shamus, I let you smoke that in my home, but don’t be leaving your ashes all over the place. Take that outside. There’s plenty of room to empty it there.”

With a rueful grin he stood up, shite the woman was house-proud. He wondered how Isaac ever slipped anything past her. Perhaps he didn’t.

To say that he was dreading what he must do next was an understatement. Sam had been a constant companion almost from the moment he was born. He’d watched, encouraged, played with, and comforted the lad for all his life. To see that role now taken by another was a bitter sweet moment. Even the knowledge that he himself had pushed Sam in the right direction to find Dean was not really helping. Ruth and Isaac had been able to allay some of his fears as to Dean’s suitability. They were good honest folk and he should trust their judgment.

But still there was that nagging doubt, it wasn’t that he disliked the lad, he didn’t know him well enough to do that. Dean was an unknown quantity. Perhaps the lad would grow on him, he hoped he would. Sam clearly loved him and he owed it to Sam to at least try to get along with Dean. His inner voice chose that moment to make itself known “you’re a silly old fool Shamus Patrick O’Reilly tis bloody jealous you are.”

“Shut up,” Shamus muttered to himself. His right hand unconsciously sought out the knobbed head of his stick as it had for many years. Cursing under his breath he snatched his hand back stuffing it into his jacket pocket. He felt naked with out its protection, as if a part of himself was missing, its absence a further reminder, if he needed one that he was no longer Sam’s protector.

He remembered the moment he’d laid his shillelagh, on the sleeping man; remembered thinking to himself that it was like losing a friend. A part of him, a small very selfish part hoped that it would reject the slumbering man before him. But it had not. The amulet and knife had accepted Dean as the rightful Guardian. The knife would only reveal itself and transform in the presence of the true guardian. Even to Shamus the knife had only ever been his trusty old shillelagh.

*************************************************************************************

By the time the bunkhouse came into sight, Dean could tell how tired Sam was. He was slumped against his back, head laid on his shoulder. He was pretty sure Sam was nearly asleep. Making for the bunkhouse Dean waited as Sam got down before he slid from Blaze’s back. Helping Sam inside to the bunk, he made sure Sam was comfortable before telling him he would be back as soon as Blaze had been taken care of. Once outside Dean grabbed the reins as he led the stallion to the corral.

Opening the gate Dean walked into the corral. It only took a few minutes before the bridle was taken off. “Life was easier when you were the only one I had to talk to. You’d listen and never talk back. We need to get you a barn built.”

Opening the cabin door to dispose of his pipe ash Shamus saw his opportunity to make his peace. “That’s a fine horse ya have there.” His knowledgeable eyes roamed over the black horse.

“Thanks,” Dean said with pride. He appreciated the compliment. Sam had told him what an excellent horseman Shamus was. If Sam’s skills were a tribute to the Irishman, then the man truly had a way with horses.

Closing the gate behind him, Shamus felt warm breath against his ear followed by a nudge in the back. Turning round he came face to muzzle with a beautifully spotted leopard appaloosa. “This cheeky wee chap Sam’s?” he rubbed the soft nose, swallowing the painful lump in his throat when he thought of the loss of the beautiful horses that had been his life’s work.

“His name’s Merlin. The first time I saw Sam he made a bet with his owner that he could train him. I spent most of the day watching them. I had never seen anyone do that before. He told me how you taught him.” Dean smiled at the memory and how he had taken a page from Shamus’ book when it came to Sam himself. “When Sam was down with the fever he said your ship was sunk. Said you and all the horses drowned. How did you survive?”

“Instinct bo…Dean, do you trust it?” Shamus watched the back in front of him stiffen and the hand cease it’s careful brushing of the ebony coat.

Dean could feel the tension, he didn‘t want to argue, but to be reminded of his life, his “destiny” was almost too much right now. He was still angry. Taking a deep breath he replied. “I’ve had to live by my instincts since I was a kid. Lives depended on what I did.”

“Good! A man after me own heart. Because it’s instincts that have kept me alive. Instinct that made me catch an earlier boat. Instinct is what will keep you and Sam alive, that and the visions.” He continued the comforting stroking of the soft spotted coat. “Work with me Dean? We both love the same person, admittedly in different ways.” He couldn’t resist a sly wink. “Try ta meet me half way even if it’s only ta save Sam’s feelings.”

Dean felt himself blush at Shamus’ words. What he and Sam had would always have to be kept a secret. But now, at least here they wouldn’t have to hide it. “I will do whatever I have to in order to protect Sam and keep him alive. Or I’ll die trying.” Dean extended his hand, “I’ll try for Sam’s sake.”

“Well can’t ask for more. Come lad there’s much I have ta tell you and Wee Sammy. He hates me calling him that, but I can’t resist. One o the simple pleasures in life, teasing Sam.”
Finishing up with Blaze, Dean and Shamus walked towards the bunkhouse. Smiling Dean thought to himself, he couldn’t agree more, teasing Sam was one of many pleasures. Maybe he could find common ground with Shamus after all. Opening the door he allowed the little Irishman to enter first. Dean walked to the table pouring three shots of whiskey, handing one to Shamus, before heading over to Sam’s bunk. Dean sat on his own bunk letting Shamus sit next to Sam.

Seating himself down Shamus cast a fatherly eye over Sam. He was pleased to note some colour had returned to his face. Christ he felt awkward, so much would rest on the shoulders of these two young men. And depending how he handled the next few minutes would determine whether he would be believed or kicked out on his backside.
“How ya feeling Sammy, ready for a wee chat?”

Re-positioning himself so that he could face his old friend Sam lent forward pulling Shamus into a fierce hug. Closing his eyes he breathed in the familiar and comforting smell of pipe smoke. “God it’s so good to see you.” Sitting up he held onto his friend, drinking in the time worn craggy features he’d adored since a child. “Well as you can see I’m feeling a lot better, so I suppose we had better have that talk you promised us.” His eyes drifted to Dean, surprised and relieved to find the earlier animosity had gone.

“The knife and the amulet that you now own are part of an ancient prophecy. Sacrifice, Death and Resurrection. The two of you, Dean the Guardian and you Sam the Seer must defeat an ancient evil. Ta aid you both you have been given certain gifts. Dean the Amulet will hide you and by means of your close relationship you will also hide Sam from its searching Eyes. Make no mistake here, if your relationship falters Sam will be exposed and you will be found.”

Dean rubbed the smooth metal of the amulet between his fingers. When he woke up with it around his neck he could feel the power vibrate through it. He didn’t know what part it played in Sam’s recovery and he wasn’t willing to risk Sam’s life. That’s why he didn’t remove it. In his bones he knew it was connected to Sam in some way.

“The Knife is the only weapon on earth that can kill it. I carried it for many years as an old fighting stick, knowing that it would only reveal itself when in the possession of the Guardian, you Dean must never be without it for ta lose it would be unthinkable.”

“Sam, as the Seer you have received the gift of vision. This evil walks among us, you are the only one who can see through its disguise and recognize it for what it really is. Your visions will guide the two of you and together you must kill it.”

Shamus waited for the barrage of questions that were bound to come, knowing that for some at least he would have no answer.

Pulling the knife from its ancient leather sheath Dean turned it over in his hands. It was beautiful. He had never seen such workmanship. The handle was engraved with runes and symbols. Some familiar, some he had never seen before. The six inch blade had been finely honed; it was also engraved in a language Dean did not recognize. “Do you know what it says?” He asked as he passed it to Shamus.

“See Dean, there’s a wee problem, its not that I ’m being evasive. I don’t have the answers and it’s going ta involve a journey ta get the answers.” Shamus waited for the expected explosion he felt sure would be coming his way.

“I thought you knew. Sam said your stick had the same runes. You’ve had it for years, what’s different?” Dean hated not having answers. “A journey? Can you tell us where or don’t you know that either? “

“Its back home isn’t it?” Sam looked earnestly at Shamus. “I have to take Dean back home, to Scotland and then to the stones.” flashes of a half remembered dream floated just out of reach. Frowning he tried to hang on to the wisps of receding memories but it was no good, the harder he tried the faster they seemed to retreat. Finally thumping the bed in frustration he gave up.

“Yes lad, you’ll need to find the last Seer he’ll be the one ta answer your questions. But you need ta be quick we‘re running out of time. The beast will have sensed the passing of power and he‘ll be looking for you. He’ll do whatever it takes ta stop you.”

“You say it’s an ancient evil. You called it the beast. Do you know what it is?” Dean looked between the two men. “And you’re telling me we have to go to England.”

“Tis all your nightmares and fears rolled into one, and yes, Sammy, you get ta go home.”

finis

Thank you to all of our readers and especially those of you who took the time and trouble to review. Well Riders 2 Storm Warning has come to an end , we hoped you enjoyed it as much as we enjoyed writing it and sharing it with all of you.
join us in the final story HONORE ET AMORE which we will post shortly.
Many thanks C & L forsakenbeloved

Tags: angst, au, horror, nc-17

Title: Dark Riders 2 Storm Warning
Authors: ForsakenBeloved
Pairings: Sam/Dean
Ratings: NC 17/adult
Warnings: Slash/Angst/Violence/Wincest/Au
Disclaimer: Don’t Belong To Us
Summary: Sam follows Dean to his ranch in the flint hills of Kansas. When disaster strikes, will an ancient prophecy and a pact made by their parents before they were born, bring them closer together, or tear them apart?
Status: Complete. Posting weekly
Word Count: 38630 APROX
A/N: Thank you to all the readers who have asked about a second story. Well here it is, hope it does not disapoint. The story is complete and will be posted once a week [or you ask real nice and then we might post sooner lol] This is the second in a series of stories that follow Dean and Sams adventures.
A big thank you to Louy for the awesome banner thanks mate, you rock!
Previous story DARK RIDERS can be found here http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/

Storm Warning Chapter 1 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/2808.html
Storm Warning Chapter 2 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/2808.html
Storm Warning Chapter 3 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/3113.html
Storm Warning Chapter 4 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/2008/05/17/
Storm Warning Chapter 5 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/3774.html
Storm Warning chapter 6 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/3981.html
Storm Warning chapter 7 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/4221.html
Storm Warning Chapter 8 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/2008/06/13/
STORM WARNING CHAPTER 9 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/2008/06/21/
STORM WARNING CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 10

Hearing a knock at the door Dean answered it letting Ruth in and taking the heavy basket from her to set it on the table.

“Sam, it’s nice to see you sitting up, you had us so worried.” she stopped at his bedside reaching over to lay her hand against his forehead. It now felt only warm.

“Thanks, Ruth,. I hear I gave you a few sleepless nights.” Sam’s eyes following her as she joined Dean at the table.

“ I wasn’t the only one who didn’t sleep.” Ruth pointedly looked at Dean.

“Yeah you kept us busy.” Grinning Dean lifted several cloth covered bowls examining their contents. Earning himself a smack on the hand and a reproving look from Ruth for snagging a biscuit.

“So he’s been telling me.” Sam smiled, thinking Dean looked like a naughty little boy as he finished eating the filched biscuit.

“Well I’m sure you’ll feel even better when you’ve had something to eat.” Ruth pointed out filling two plates with food.

Just then Sam’s stomach growled noisily. “Apparently I have a few days to make up for.”

Taking the overflowing plates Dean seated himself at the bottom of Sam’s bunk, handing him the larger of the two mouth-watering breakfasts.

“We need to get you well first. Dean, can tell you about most of it.” Ruth pointed out.

“The most important thing is you’re gonna be okay.” Dean mumbled around a mouthful of ham. Looking around he asked “Where’s, Isaac?”

“He'll be along shortly, he had a few things to do.” Ruth replied over her shoulder as she
tidied away the used and now empty bowls.

“Thanks for the ham and biscuits, Ruth.” Spotting the steaming pot on the stove, Sam asked, “Dean, can you get me a coffee?”

Dean walked over to the table and poured milk from the pail into a glass, returning he leaned down and handed it to Sam with a huge grin. “Drink up, Sammy, need to get your strength back.”



Sam looked at his glass with disgust “Dean, I asked for coffee.” he said in a whiney voice.

“Sam, Dean’s, right the milk is better for you.” spotting Isaac through the window Ruth moved to intercept him, opening the door she called back to the two men telling them to finish their breakfasts.

“Alright but I want some coffee later.” Sam nearly choked on the first mouthful, it was warm and obviously straight from the cow. Shuddering he reached up a hand wiping off the milk moustache. He looked up hopefully. “Dean, can I have my coffee now?”

“Seeing how you've cleaned up your plate like a good boy, I’ll get it,” Dean snickered, it was always fun to tease Sam. Getting up he placed the now empty plates on the table then poured two tin cups of coffee. Handing Sam his he sat down, blowing on his to cool it enough to drink without burning his tongue.

As Dean leant forward the light from the window reflected off of something metallic hanging out of his shirt. “Dean. Where did you get that?”

Dean’s curious eyes flicked to the tiny horned head hanging from the simple cord. “Strange thing, Sam, I can’t explain it, when I woke up this morning it was around my neck.”

Sam picked up the amulet, Staring at it, seemingly lost in thought for a few seconds. “Dean, I’ve seen this before, it belongs to, Shamus. He’s never without it.”

“Are you sure, Sam? I don’t know if it was a dream or not, I was kinda out of it myself last night, but I thought someone was here. That wasn’t the only thing, there was a knife left on the bunk.”

“Dean, let me see it.” Sam could feel his heart speed up, afraid of what he would see.


Hastily retrieving the knife from the saddlebag where he’d put it for safekeeping he handed it to a frantic looking Sam, watching as the knife was turned over and examined by shaking hands.

“Something’s very wrong. I’ve seen… This is the same as… Dean, Shamus, has a fighting stick, it has the same runes on it as this knife.”

Dean had been dreading this. He didn’t know if Sam’s vision was real or the fever talking. He had to proceed carefully. Sam was still hurting from his injury. “When you had the fever you said you had a vision. Do you remember?”

“No, Dean, I told you I had some weird dreams but they were all mixed up. Please tell me I didn‘t have a vision about, Shamus” Searching Dean’s face he saw the unwelcome and unwanted answer clearly written in the sad green eyes.


“When you were sick we needed to bring the fever down. We tried to put you in the tub. You said they were all gone. You said the ship had been sunk.” Dean pulled Sam into his arms, trying to offer all the comfort he could. “Sammy, I’m so sorry. You said, Shamus, was dead. I want to tell you it was all a dream, but I don’t know.”

”Why would I see it if I couldn’t do anything about it? Why, Dean?” the choked out words were muffled against Dean’s strong shoulder.

Dean rocked Sam gently whispering, “I don’t know how your visions work. But you saved me twice. Maybe it was just a dream.”

Opening the door Ruth and Isaac walked in laughing, looking around they saw the obvious distress of the two young men. “What's happened is, Sam, alright?” Ruth’s concerned voice asked looking between the two young men.

Still holding Sam close, Dean looked at Ruth. “I told, Sam, what he said about his vision. About his friend, Shamus.”

Isaac and Ruth looked at one another. “Dean, there’s something you need to know,” the older man said. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Dean watched as Isaac left, he could see uncertainty in Ruth’s eyes. As he started to speak the door opened and Isaac stepped inside. Dean could see a small figure standing behind the older man. Isaac moved further into the room to join his wife, letting the small man enter, and close the door behind him.

Shamus’ keen old eyes sought out his boy, needing to reassure himself that he was in fact healed. His old heart nearly missing a beat as he took in the tear streaked face. “Ah, Sammy, ya daft wee shite. Did ya think I was dead? Did ya young man not tell ya I was here?” Shamus waddled over to the bunk on which the two sat

Dean loosened his hold on Sam “You’re real?” he asked before standing. “ I thought I was dreaming.”

Getting out of bed, Sam bent down awkwardly and hugged his dearest friend. “Oh God, Shamus, it‘s good to see you, I thought you were dead, thought you‘d drowned.” legs giving way suddenly he grabbed onto Shamus for support.

“Sit yourself down lad before ya fall down, you’re to big for me ta carry. Besides that’s the new Guardian’s job.” He looked pointedly at Dean

Instinctively Dean reached for Sam as he started to fall. He helped the younger man back to the bed. Dean noticed Shamus was looking at him, it took a moment for his words to sink in. “Guardian? What are you talking about.?” He asked.

“Shut your gob boy and sit down. Isaac ya got some of that whiskey ya keep hidden, the good stuff not the crap? I’ve a wee bit of explanin ta do.” He grinned sheepishly at the two men on the bunk.

Looking at his old friend, Isaac smiled. “It's a little early in the mornin for that, even for you, Shamus.”

“Think we'll be needing it by the time I'm through. Tis a long tale and I'll be needing some lubrication.” Looking round Shamus spied a chair, liberating it from the corner he seated himself next to Sam’s bunk.

Shaking his head Isaac glanced at Ruth before leaving. A few minutes later he returned with a bottle and several glasses. Pouring a glass he handed it to Shamus before setting the rest within easy reach. Quietly he sat down next to Ruth.

“We want to know what’s going on.” Dean said, none too happy at Shamus’ earlier dismissal. “It wasn’t a dream was it?” Dean asked already knowing the answer.

“No. it wasn't a dream. You had ta accept your role in life.” Taking a sip of whiskey and looking at Dean he added, “Sam’s, injury was a means ta an end.”

Dean could feel his anger start to rise. “What does that mean? Sam’s, injury was a means to an end?”

“Well boyo, you were being an egit and needed a swift kick up the backside.” looking at the contents of his glass, Shamus fervently wished he could avoid the heartache and upset his revelations were going to cause. Especially to Sammy. He knew that some of the things he had to say were going to break the lad’s heart and in all probability, end their friendship. It saddened him greatly because he had long thought of the lanky lad as his own flesh and blood.

“You’re not making any sense. Sam's, injury was an accident.” Shaking his head Dean tried to understand exactly what Shamus was talking about.

“The injury was an accident, what happened next was not.” Shamus looked up at Dean from under bushy red eyebrows.

“What do you mean?” Dean jumped to his feet looking down at Shamus. “I want to know what’s going on.”

“Shamus, I agree with, Dean, you’re being evasive. I want to know what’s been going on.”

Anger flicked in Shamus‘ eyes for a moment as he looked at Dean. “The infection was your doing boyo, you had a decision ta make. A very important life changing decision and you were messing it up throwing it all away. Putting years of careful planning in jeopardy on a selfish whim. Jesus! Boy, you needed ta open your eyes an see what a pigs ear you were making of things.”

Dean stopped, facing the short man. “What the hell are you talking about? I had nothing to do with the infection. My decisions and what I do are none of your damn business. And I’m sure as hell not your boy. You don’t know anything about me. You talk about years of planning. Planning what? Sam and I have only known each other a short time. And that’s none of your concern either. That’s between us.”

“That’s where you‘re wrong boy. Everything you have done from the time you met, Sam, has been our” he waved his hand to encompass Ruth and Isaac, “business. Sam, is the next Seer and you, Dean, are the new Guardian.”

“Shamus, are you saying that this…” Sam waved his hands between himself and Dean. “That, Dean, and I… It was all planned? Does being the Seer have something to do with the dreams, visions or whatever they are that I’ve been having?”

His frustration growing Dean turned to Sam. “Sam, what the hell is he talking about? What Guardian?”

Shaking his head Sam replied, “Dean, I don't have a clue.”

“Sam’s, destiny to be the Seer.“ Shamus explained, “was chosen before he was born, as was yours, Dean, ta be his Guardian. I was sent as a sort of caretaker for Sam, till the time was right for you ta take over.”

“So you’re saying that all this was already planned.?” Dean asked again turning to the strange little man. “We had no choice?”

Re-filling his glass and taking a hasty gulp Shamus steeled himself for what he was about to reveal “Sam, has never had a choice, his was made for him by his parents. You always had a choice.”


“Hang on a minute “How can Sam be responsible for something he had no choice in?” Dean’s frustration was growing every questioned answered left another one in it’s place,”

Sam rubbed at his forehead then pinched the bridge of his nose feeling the beginnings of a headache, “what’s this to do with my parents?

“Sam, you're aware you're an only child?” Shamus asked.

Frowning Sam replied “Yes its no secret.”

“What you don’t know is that your ma was barren. As was yours, Dean. I remember your da, a bloody Yank sailor stole the heart of a wee Irish lass. He would have gone ta the devil himself for your ma. Your ma and da approached me and a deal was struck. Nine months later you were born. Your ma and da sailed back to America where Ruth and Isaac kept an eye on you. The same with your parents Sam. Sam, your ma and Dean, your da both slept for a night wearing that amulet.” Shamus said indicating the talisman hanging around Dean’s neck.

“God, I can't believe this Shamus. Why did you never tell me? Are Dean and I even human? And what exactly is a Seer?” Sam’s mind was buzzing with so many thoughts and questions.

“Sam, you and Dean, you’re as human as the rest o us here, as for what exactly a Seer and Guardian roles are, well, I’ll explain them ta ya later.”

Dean stopped pacing, standing before Ruth and Isaac. “You knew about all this? I trusted you.”

Ruth glanced nervously at Isaac, twisting her hands, she looked up into Dean’s hurt eyes. “We’re sorry. You have to understand, we are not allowed to interfere.”

“So my dad knew about this too? And you all know each other? Why don’t I remember you?” Turning to Shamus Dean asked, “What about my brother? If my mother was barren how could she have him? Is that why he had to die, he wasn‘t part of the deal?”

Shamus had waited for that little penny to drop, the boy had a sharp brain. “That was not our doing Dean, other forces were at work that day.”

“Yes, your dad agreed to the terms. We’ve known Shamus for thirty years. After your mother died, your dad took you and left. You were very young the last time we saw you. Your dad thought he could change your destiny.” Isaac tried to answer all Dean’s questions.

“So our whole lives have been nothing but lies?” Dean raised his voice in anger.

“So you and my parents manipulated me my whole life, was any of it real?” Sam ground the heel of his hands into his eyes trying to push back the growing headache.

“You’re saying that Sam and I are nothing more than pawns for whatever game you’re playing?”

“We are all pawns in a very ancient game, Dean,” Shamus explained. “A very ancient and very deadly game and one which we cannot afford ta lose, which is why t'was so important that you two meet and bond everything rests on your shoulders lads.”

Dean was beyond angry. “Find someone else. I’m not playing your games. I don’t care. I won’t be used like that. We won’t be used like that.”
.
“Boys you don’t have a choice and neither did we.”

“My mom, Sam’s parents they paid the price for your game. We’ve already paid for it.
You expect me and Sam to pay with what, our lives? Cuz I can tell you it’s not gonna happen we've paid enough already.” Angrily Dean kicked the empty chair, knocking it into the wall.

“Price? You don't know the meaning o’ it ya young egit.” Shamus’ fingers reached automatically for his stick to knock some sense into Dean’s head. When his groping fingers came up empty he clenched his fist in anger. He’d forgotten. Forgotten the stick was no longer his, no longer there. It was now be in its true form, the knife,

“You said I had a choice when it came to, Sam, living or dying. His life was in my hands. If I would have made the wrong one, we both would have been dead. What would have happened to your game then?” Dean shuddered as he thought back to the decision he had made to end his life.

“Dean, you could never have made the wrong choice. Your lives have been bound together since before you were born. As was Ruth‘s, Isaac’s and mine. We are all bound in the fight against a very ancient evil. Hopefully this time the pairing is strong enough to defeat it once and for all”

Shaking his head whilst looking at Dean, Sam said, “I don't want any part of this.”

With an accusing glare, the young hunter looked around at Shamus, Isaac and Ruth. “You all sit back and let people die. I’ve spent most of my life trying to save people. I won’t be part of that.”

“This fight has been going on since time began. If you do not fulfil your two destinies not only your lives will be forfeit but that of the human race. This is not some bloody game boyo! This is life and death and not just yours.”

“Sam, what do you want to do? Do you want to be part of this?” Dean walked over to the small table, pouring two shots of whiskey he walked back to Sam’s bunk, handing him one. “After everything we’ve heard how can we ever trust them again?”

“God Dean, I can't get my head round all of this, but it looks as if we don't have a choice. I don‘t think we ever did”

“Come on Sammy. Me and you responsible for mankind?” Searching Sam’s face Dean continued. “Choice, I don’t ever want to hear that damn word again.”

“Shamus, please tell me my parents deaths had nothing to do with this, that they didn’t die because of me?” Sam begged.

“Yeah, Shamus, tell Sam. Tell him his parents aren’t dead because of all this. Don’t you think you at least owe him that?”

All eyes turned to look at him. Here was the moment he had been dreading, taking a steadying breath Shamus replied. “Sam, it was them or you I could not interfere, there’s too much at stake.”

Sitting down next to Sam, Dean caressed his cheek. “I just got you back. I don’t want to lose you. You’re not ready to hunt with me, but they want you to take on something worse than I’ve ever seen.”

“Sammy, you have ta believe me lad,” Shamus implored, “I loved your ma and da,. I never wanted anything ta happen ta them.”

“Sam, they've lied to us about everything. We don't owe them anything. I don't care about the world. I care about you.” Dean wiped away the tears as they fell from Sam’s hazel eyes.

Head pounding and stomach churning Sam had, had enough “Dean get them out. I don't feel... I can't ... Dean please…”

Dean walked over to the door opening it, he turned to Ruth, Isaac and Shamus. “You heard, Sam. Get out before I throw you out!”

Reaching out to touch him, Shamus was saddened when he pulled away “Sammy, I’m sorry lad, you're not well I should have left this till later.”

“I SAID GET OUT!” Dean yelled.

“I’ll be back later when you're feeling better lad.” Taking one last look at the young man he had helped raise and who’s life he had just turned upside down, Shamus sighed deeply as he closed the door quietly behind him.

Tags: angst, au, bottom sam, horror, nc-17

Pairings: Sam/Dean
Ratings: NC 17/adult
Warnings: Slash/Angst/Violence/Wincest/Au
Disclaimer: Don’t Belong To Us
Summary: Sam follows Dean to his ranch in the flint hills of Kansas. When disaster strikes, will an ancient prophecy and a pact made by their parents before they were born, bring them closer together, or tear them apart?
Status: Complete. Posting weekly
Word Count: 38630 APROX
A/N: Thank you to all the readers who have asked about a second story. Well here it is, hope it does not disapoint. The story is complete and will be posted once a week [or you ask real nice and then we might post sooner lol] This is the second in a series of stories that follow Dean and Sams adventures.
A big thank you to Louy for the awesome banner thanks mate, you rock!

Previous story DARK RIDERS can be found here http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/

Storm Warning Chapter 1 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/2808.html
Storm Warning Chapter 2 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/2808.html
Storm Warning Chapter 3 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/3113.html
Storm Warning Chapter 4 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/2008/05/17/
Storm Warning Chapter 5 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/3774.html
Storm Warning chapter 6 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/3981.html
Storm Warning chapter 7 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/4221.html
Storm Warning Chapter 8 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/2008/06/13/
STORM WARNING CHAPTER 9 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/2008/06/21/

While still many hundreds of miles away, Shamus had known the moment Sam become ill. Even knowing that this was the way it would happen, the way it had always happened was little comfort. The constant battle of good against evil was wearing him down. Soon he would be able to pass his heavy burden to the next guardian. Rubbing the ancient talisman that had lain around his neck for many decades, he prayed the boy had chosen well. Much would rest upon the new guardian’s shoulders. Separated from his charge by more than mere miles Shamus cursed the forces of evil that had interfered with his plans. Plans that had been made and set in motion many years ago, before the lad had even been born.


Many sacrifices had been made, were still being made. A move had been orchestrated
against Sam in England one which he’d foreseen and god forgive him he had let happen. Sam had been saved and that was all that mattered. Losing his friends had been hard but necessary. Sam needing the push that only losing his parents would provide. Shamus had not had a choice, mistakes had been made and the debt paid for with the Richards’ lives.


One of the hardest things Shamus had ever done was to encourage Sam to leave England. He couldn’t love the boy anymore if Sam were his own son. The thought of not being there with the lad for the first time in over 20 years was disturbing, but it had to be done. Sam had to find his partner and the future guardian and it would never happen if he were there to interfere.

But he was needed now, Sam was very ill and without his intervention he would be dead before morning. Opening the bunkhouse door he slipped quietly inside.

Tired bloodshot eyes blinked open

“Well young fella ma lad, tis not difficult to see why he chose you.” closing the door behind him Shamus tried to calm his unruly mop of hair by patting at it. But as usual Shamus suspected it looked like he had been dragged through a hedge backwards.

Dean blinked several times trying to clear his gritty eyes, to force his mind to make sense of the strange sight before him. A smallish figure with shocking orange hair, wrapped in a traveling cloak and leaning on a carved stick stood before him.

Tightening his arms around Sam he caused the sick man to squirm and groan in pain. “Shush Sam it’s alright, I‘ve got you.” Dean whispered against Sam’s ear.

Walking with a slightly rolling gait Shamus approached the bed.” I’m, Shamus, but I’ll be guessing you know that already.” His sharp old eyes took in the exhaustion, the distress, the way he held Sam firmly but gently to his chest. The rhythmic stroking of the long brown hair.

“Sam said you were drowned at sea.”

Shamus smiled then nodded his head. “So the visions have started.”

“How could you know that?” Dean straightened slightly. “What are you?” Slipping his hand under the pillow he searched for the knife.

“Don’t be daft lad; you’ll not be needing a pig sticker. I’ve not come to hurt you. I’m here to help wee Sam”

“Wee Sam?” how anyone could call six feet four of muscle, sinew and bone ‘Wee” was beyond ridiculous Dean thought. “How can you help him?”

Walking to the head of the bed Shamus placed his hand on Sam’s head, feeling the intense head radiating from him.

“Don’t s’pose you’d leave if I asked?” having no need to look at Dean to know that he was shaking his head as he said.

“No!” Was Dean’s curt reply.

Not taking his eyes off of Sam, thus giving Dean no warning, quicker than a viper he lifted his hand placing it on Dean’s head; he said, “dul a chodlah.” As the now sleeping Dean’s head rolled back to rest against the wall shamus said. “Thought you’d say that boyo.”


With Dean temporarily out of the way the little Irishman took his first good look at Sam since saying goodbye to him at Southampton docks. The hair was longer than he remembered, but that was no surprise. Even as a small boy Sam had never liked having his hair cut. Pulling the sheet aside his eyes sought the festering wound, carefully removing the dressing. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph!” Green and yellow puss oozed from the inflamed seven inch open wound. Dark red lines spiraled out from it like the legs of a giant spider, the smell was appalling.

“Tis a fine mess you’ve gotten yourself into ma lad.” He couldn’t help feeling responsible in some small measure for Sam’s condition. But rules were rules and when the time had come he had no choice but to send Sam on his way. Even knowing that the lad he’d cared for, had guarded for over twenty years would be in mortal danger till he found his life partner and the role of guardian could be passed on.


Looking upon the face of the new guardian he thought Sam had chosen well. More heavily muscled than Sam’s lean form. A kind handsome face. Shamus could sense the ruthless streak that ran through the man. Good. He would need that in the years to come. Deeper still at his core was a good soul, honest loyal, self-sacrificing. All wrapped up in a handsome package. “You‘ll do boyo.” Yes he would make a fine guardian.

Stepping back a couple of paces he removed the traveling cloak laying it on a nearby bunk. “Now for the heavy work,” he muttered to himself. Moving to the foot end of the shared bed he grabbed Dean’s ankles, then bracing one foot against the end of the bunk he pulled. As he’d hoped both men slid down into a prone position. Dean underneath, Sam still on his side held tight in his arms.

Picking up his trusty shillelagh, he lovingly caressed the polished surface. Every rune, every ancient word carved into its surface known to him. To pass it on would be like losing an old friend. Bringing the shillelagh to his lips he mumbled his farewells, kissed the guardian rune then reverently laid it on Dean’s chest and stomach. Rolling Sam over until the shillelagh was covered by their two bodies.


Shifting once more to the head of the bed he laid his hands on Dean’s head. “ Ón seandhuine go dtí an duine nua, anois tugaim ról an Chaomhnóra duit.” lifting his hands he removed the Guardian’s talisman from around his neck. Slipping the leather cord over Dean’s head he settled the horned amulet against his chest, then placed a hand on each of their heads he spoke, “ leigheas.” Then stepped back.

From between their two bodies a beautiful blue light grew until it encompassed them both in a brilliant bubble of pulsing blue light. Raising a hand to shield his eyes he watched for a few seconds before picking up his cloak and leaving the room. His task complete.

Stumbling to the nearby cabin he was relieved when the door opened and a glass of whiskey was thrust into his hand. “Welcome Shamus, it’s been a while.” Isaac smiled helping his old friend into a chair.

“Jesus he’s a stubborn shite!” Shamus exclaimed.

“True.” Ruth nodded her head in agreement. “But he’ll make a good guardian, but does it always have to be so hard?”

Shamus thought the ordeal cruel but could not interfere. It was necessary to test the bond that had formed between the two men. Dean’s loyalty was no longer in doubt, he would rather die than be without his partner, that’s how it should be, the guardian could never leave the seer. Shamus thought the ordeal cruel but it had been necessary, at least Dean had learned from it, had at last given himself totally to Sam, to the role he would play for the rest of his life.

Gaelic to English translations.

“Dul a chodlah.” [“go to sleep”]

“Ón seandhuine go dtí an duine nua, anois tugaim ról an Chaomhnóra duit.” [“From the old to the new the role of guardian I now pass to you.”]

“leigheas” [“heal”]

*******************************************************************
Sam’s body shifting in his arms brought Dean from the depths of slumber. Slowly he pulled his arm from under Sam. Shaking it he tried to get some feeling back, the slight tingle telling him it was working. Sam was breathing easier, and although he still had the sheen of sweat, when he placed his hand to the younger man’s forehead the scorching heat was gone. The fever had broken. He watched the slow even breaths. Sam was sleeping peacefully. He couldn’t believe it, last night he was sure Sam wouldn’t pull through. Not wanting to wake him, Dean sat up, just watching Sam sleep.

Standing, he tried to stretch the kinks out of his tired body. Dean walked over to the warm stove, pouring fresh water in the basin. He washed up before heating the coffee that was still in the pot. Rubbing his sore neck, he had a nagging feeling that someone had been there; he vaguely recalled being awakened when someone entered the bunkhouse. God knows he had been exhausted, maybe everything had finally caught up to him, perhaps it all been a dream. Dean remembered a small man. He said he was Shamus. Sam said Shamus was dead, was his vision wrong? Had he actually survived? If it was him, why wasn’t he here with Sam now?

Dean looked down at the strange amulet hanging around his neck; fingering it he felt the smooth metal. Did it have anything to do with Sam’s recovery? What about the knife? he wondered, it was beautiful, engraved with strange symbols. Someone or something placed them there and he was going to find out. Dean didn’t believe in miracles. Everything he had ever seen to indicate one always had some kind of strings attached. Usually something that involved evil. He hadn’t done anything, not even prayed. Sam didn’t know anything about making deals, Dean had seen to it. He couldn’t bear the thought of Sam touched by evil. He was sure Ruth and Isaac would never do anything like that. He had questions, now he needed answers.

Feeling like he was being watched, Dean looked around, surprised to see Sam staring at him. His hazel eyes seemed clear, gone was the glassy unfocused gaze he had seen the last few days. Dean filled a cup of water taking it to Sam waiting as the younger man sat up to drink. “How you feeling, Sam?” He asked nervously.

“My back still hurts, but not like it did.” Dean took that opportunity to peel the bandage back. Gone were the red streaks, the awful smell, and the wound no longer seeped. Sam would have another scar, would still need a few days to recuperate. The most important thing was he would live.

Dean sat down, he knew Sam well enough to see the wheels turning in the younger man’s head. Sam had questions, lots of questions.

The large room was quiet as the minutes passed. Chewing nervously on his lower lip, Sam glanced over, not surprised to see green eyes watching him. “So, um…how long have I been ill?”

“It’s been almost a week since the tornado. You weren’t too bad Sunday, Monday you started to run a fever. After that you were pretty much out of it. What do you remember?”

“So you mean I lost four days? To be honest Dean I don’t remember much. Bits and pieces, feeling hot, then cold. I think I remember you being there, but not much else.”

“I was right there next to you the whole time even when I was sleeping,”

“Really?” Sam asked, a little surprised. “You stayed with me? So I didn’t imagine it then?”

“No, you didn’t imagine that. Where else would I be?”

Sam sighed, looking down and picking at the blanket, “Well …after we argued I thought…I didn’t think you would want to…I thought you would leave.”

Dean waited for Sam to look up, “I wouldn’t have left you. Not like that.” Taking a deep breath he continued, “I don’t know how to explain it, but you were dying. You should have died. You scared the hell out of me. Don’t ever do that again. I don’t know if you even heard with the fever, but I promised I wouldn’t leave you.”

“Why the sudden change Dean? I need to know. For me it still feels like the last day we argued.” Sam’s eyes kept darting back to Dean. He wasn’t going to force Dean to keep a promise out of pity. “Dean you don't have to stay. I won't hold you to your promise. After all, you thought I was dying and as you can see I'm not.”

“You're right I thought you were dying. That‘s when I knew I didn‘t want to be without you. You will probably regret it, but you're stuck with me now.”

“Dean you have to be sure. I can't ever go through this again.”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything. It's not gonna be easy. I don't know how this works.”

Shaking his head, Sam grinned. “Dean since when has anything with you ever been easy, or boring?”

“Come on Sammy, you love a challenge.” Dean teased as he leaned in and brushed his lips against Sam’s.

Sam pulled Dean in closer reveling in the feel of him. “I love you. I think I knew from the moment we met.”

“I’ve never felt this way with anyone.” Dean’s voice was almost a whisper.

“Me either. Not that I have anything to compare it to.”

Dean flinched slightly, pulling back he wanted Sam to see the truth. “Sam, that's all in the past. This is a chance for a fresh start for both of us, for us to build something together.”

Sam hesitated a moment, not wanting to start another argument. “What about all the other things Dean? Hunting, you can't give that up. I won't let you. Its too important. But no planned solo hunts. And I will be coming with you soon.”

“No I can't give up hunting, and you're still not ready. But you almost died from an infection. The tornado could have killed either one of us. Anything can happen. I'll try to do it your way. But you’re not hunting until I decide you’re ready.”

“No Dean, when we decide. That’s all I ask.”

“Alright when we decide. I've been on my own for so long it's going to take time to get used to.”

Hazel eyes met green as Sam asked. “Would you really have gone Dean?”

“Honestly, I don't know.. I was being torn in two. I wanted you, but I know I'm bad for you Sam.’ Dean turned away his voice trailing off. “ I just want to protect you. I don’t know what will happen if I lose you.”

“I feel the same. I cannot be without you, not now. Dean as long as we have each other there is nothing we cannot face together and just for the record I want to protect you. But your worst enemy is yourself.”

With a sad laugh Dean shook his head agreeing with the younger man. “That's what I'm afraid of Sam. You haven't seen what I'm capable of doing. How can you have faith in me?”

Sam grabbed Dean’s neck dragging him close, until their foreheads were pressed together. “Because I couldn't love you if I didn't.”

“You make it sound so simple, but it's not. Not for me.” Dean tried to pull away but Sam held even tighter.

“It can be Dean. All you have to do is believe in me like I do you.”

“ I do believe in you Sam. I don't know if I believe in me.”

“Guess I'll have to do it enough for both of us.” Drawing Dean in closer, Sam’s mouth covered Dean’s in a bruising kiss, demanding entrance, taking Dean’s breath away. Soft full lips parted allowing Sam’s tongue into the warm wet heat of his mouth savoring the taste.

****

A soft knock on the door had Dean pulling back. He crossed the room opening it to see Isaac standing there. Sam saw him nod as he spoke with the older man. He could see Dean smile as the door closed. A few minutes later Isaac returned with the first of several batches of boiling water as the tub was slowly filled.

Dean watched Sam sink down into the warm water, heard him groan his approval as the water settled around him. Dean grabbed the basin, his razor and the soap as he pulled his chair behind the tub. He placed a warm rag over Sam’s face letting it soften the nearly week old stubble as he worked the soap into a lather. Moving the rag he applied the lather. Taking the razor he brought the blade carefully up Sam’s neck, and chin scraping away the rough beard. He repeated the motion, rinsing and scraping over Sam’s jaw, and finally scraped away the small moustache. Satisfied with the job he rinsed away the soapy residue. Careful of Sam’s back, Dean had Sam lean back as he poured warm water over the dark unruly mop of hair. His fingers quickly worked the soap through the long hair, massaging it into the silken strands. After rinsing and briskly toweling the dark tresses, he took scissors and trimmed the too long ends. Once he was finished he sat back and admired his work. Sam’s head was leaned back, his hazel eyes closed as he luxuriated in Dean’s care. Kneeling next to the tub, Dean took Sam’s now smooth face in his hands, leaning in his lips gently caressed Sam’s. He waited for Sam to open his eyes before he trailed kisses up Sam’s jaw to his ear. “I love you, Sam” he whispered. Sitting back on his heels, he watched Sam’s face as the words sank in.

Sam froze, the breath locked in his lungs and even his heart seemed to cease beating. “What did you say?” came out as a strangled whisper

Standing, Dean reached down to help Sam from the tub. "You heard me Sammy"


“No, Dean, I don’t think I did. Perhaps you better whisper in my ear again.”

Shaking his head Dean smiled at Sam, knowing he had heard the words he had been waiting on for so long, bending down he whispered again, " I said I love you Sammy."

“I thought that’s what you said, Dean.” Sam put his wrestling practice to good use he grabbed Deans right shoulder and left hip. Pulling down on the shoulder and pushing on his hip to send Dean with a splash and a surprised yell to land in the bath on Sam’s chest and lap. Taking full advantage of the situation he wasted no time hugging Dean to him. “God, Dean, you don’t know how much I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

There was a loud knock then the door opened, Isaac looked around. He couldn’t help himself seeing the shocked look on Dean's face as he sat sideways in the tub on Sam’s lap. A huge smile broke out on his face as he tried to hold in his laughter. “I can come back later when you‘ve finished your bath.”

Dean felt the heat on his face as he flailed trying to find something to grab hold of to push himself up out of the narrow tub. Seeing no other option, he held out his hand waiting for the older man to help him up.
Isaac could barely contain his laughter, between the smile that radiated from Sam’s face and Dean in such an undignified position as he took his hand helping him to his feet.
Still chuckling Isaac headed back to the door. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Once the door closed Dean reached down pulling Sam up tossing him a towel as he started to remove his own wet clothes. “You need to put something on. Isaac will be back and Ruth will be bringing chow soon.”

It only took a few minutes before Dean had changed into something dry. He watched as Sam walked towards the table. “Nope, back to bed, Sam.” He waited as Sam made his way to a fresh bunk before crossing to the door opening it to let Isaac know it was safe to return.

Isaac was still smiling a few minutes later when he and Dean lifted the near empty tub. Looking over his shoulder Dean winked at Sam. “Don’t go anywhere, I won’t be long.”



Waiting for Dean’s return Sam made himself comfortable on a fresh bunk. He didn’t want to think what the one he had laid in for the last few days smelled like . If it was anything approaching the rank smell that had clung to his own body it didn’t bear thinking about. Sinking into the tub of hot water had been bliss. Just laying back and letting Dean take charge had been wonderful. Sam had been shaved many times but being shaved by Dean was a whole different experience. Since when had shaving become erotic? Smiling to himself Sam wondered if he has developed a one-track mind.

As he was in for a few more days of inactivity the least he could do was study the journals, read Dean’s notes on the latest hunt and update his own journal. Casting his eye about the bunkhouse Sam looked for the journals. Spotting the saddlebag on the bottom of the nearby bunk, he thought it a likely place for them to be. Opening the buckle and lifting the flap, Sam emptied the contents of the saddlebag onto his lap. Two leather bound journals, Dean’s Colt and 4 letters fell out.

What was Dean’s Colt doing in the bag? He was meticulous about his weapons. There was no way he would casually leave it in a bag. Thumbing aside the gate the cylinder released and nestled. Nestled inside was one silver bullet. Placing the Colt back on the bed he picked up the letters. They were addressed to Ruth and Isaac, John Winchester, Shamus and the last one to William Jones, the lawyer. Staring at the letters a horrible feeling settled in the pit of Sam’s stomach, swallowing nervously he found the envelope addressed to Ruth and Isaac. Turning it over several times in his hand Sam contemplated opening it. Normally one to respect privacy, he hesitated, glancing once more at Dean’s Colt, “Please let 2 and 2 make 5, please let me be wrong.” Sam whispered quietly.

Pulling the letter out he quickly read the letter. “Oh, God!” There was no denying it; there in black and white was Dean’s suicide note. Tears welled up blurring the written word, a huge lump threatened to block his throat, he shook his head in disbelief. There if ever he needed it, was proof of Dean’s love for him. How could he have been such a fool, been so blind?

Opening the door, Dean‘s first thought was to check on Sam. Seeing the shocked look on Sam’s face, it took a moment before Dean recognized the envelope he was holding in his hands. Looking further he saw his Colt lying on the bed next to his saddlebag. Dean felt like he had been punched in the gut, he just stood there for a minute, unable to catch his breath.

The creak of the bunkhouse door followed by a loud gasp drew Sam’s attention. Dean stood framed in the doorway a look of horror on his face.

Slamming the door, Dean crossed over to the bunk trying to grab the letter, only to be held at arm’s length by Sam. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? “ He snarled, not really expecting an answer. “Give it to me,” he demanded holding out his hand waiting for Sam to hand the letter over. Dean watched Sam shake his head refusing to do as he was told. “You had no right to read that.”

“No right!? Jesus, Dean, you were going to kill yourself.” Sam hadn’t meant to shout, but he found it impossible to contain the pain and anguish he felt.

“Yes, Sam, I was. You wanna know why?” He turned his head staring out of the window; somehow it was easier than looking at Sam’s concerned face. “Because I don’t… I can’t be the one left behind.” His voice trailed off. Sitting on the bunk next to Sam's, Dean dropped his head into his hands not wanting Sam to see his face. “I never wanted you to know.”

“Dean, look at me,” when he got no response he crouched with some difficulty, grasping Dean’s face between his two large hands turning him from the window so he could look into the anguished green eyes. Sam needed Dean to truly believe what he was going to say. “Dean, I will never leave you. Never.”

Dean tried to turn away, but Sam held him firmly in place, making him look at him. Those hazel eyes were relentless boring into him, trying to look into his very soul. The thought of what Sam would see terrified him. He had worked so hard to keep everything buried, his weaknesses and fears. What would Sam think if he knew the truth?

Frowning, Sam could see the war going on inside Dean’s head; it was being played out on his for once unguarded face. Sam knew that Dean found talking about himself difficult, if not impossible. Suddenly, as if he had been blind and now could see he was granted insight. Dean for all his physical strength was emotionally crippled. Sam suspected that John had a hand in his son’s condition. Perhaps John had taught Dean that to show your emotions made you a liability, perhaps the man was that way himself and Dean had grown up not knowing any different. Whatever the reason John had handicapped his son, not protected him. Well that was something that was going to have to change. Firstly Sam himself needed to apologize.

“Dean, I’m so sorry. So sorry I doubted you, doubted your feelings for me, for not trusting you.” He was so close he could see his own reflection in the sad eyes.

“Sam, you don’t have to apologize. I tried to tell you, but I’m not so good with words. Not like you, I just thought you knew and understood.”

“It doesn’t matter, Dean. Like you I have had a lot to learn and one of those things I had to learn was to grow up…to learn to read people. I assumed wrongly that everyone talked. Talked about what was important to them. That’s how I was brought up. We shared everything. Do you know there was not a day that went by that my mum and dad didn’t say that they loved each other? I wrongly assumed that you never said it because you didn’t have those feelings for me. How blind I was. I never realized that you didn’t know how to, because you’d never been shown. You had been taught that to show your feeling was a weakness. But all that has, and will, change now, Dean, because I know the real you. Not the Dean Winchester you show the rest of the world, but the kind, loving generous man I fell in love with.”

Dean could feel the heat of embarrassment on his face. He wasn’t sure he was worthy of Sam’s words. He was right. He had been taught to never show weakness. That was a lesson he had learned well, he had guarded that part of himself until Sam came into his life. “Sam, I don’t know if I can change. You can’t afford to show any weakness hunting, you have to understand that.”

“Dean, there’s a lot I don’t know about you. There are parts of yourself you keep hidden from me. I thought if I waited and didn’t push you would eventually feel comfortable enough to tell me. I understand the need to be professional when we hunt, to be careful in public. But when we’re alone I want all of you. I don’t want us to have secrets, to hide things from each other.”

“No one ever cared before how I felt. I’ve always had to keep so many secrets hunting I never stopped to think that it would matter to anyone. I didn’t realize they were important to you. I don’t mean to do it, I’ll need you to help me, to remind me.”

“Loving someone and telling them is not weakness Dean, its strength. Anyone can go through life forever on the outside looking in, but it takes strength to break the ingrained habits of a lifetime and change. Now that you have it’ll be easier,” smiling he brushed his thumbs over the freckled cheekbones before leaning forward to kiss Dean. Pulling back he winced slightly, bracing himself against Dean’s denim clad thighs.

Sam’s touch went through Dean light a jolt of lightning. Reaching out to steady Sam he waited for him to sit back down. Dean cleared his throat, not sure if he trusted his voice. “There are gonna be times when I can’t give you what you need, but that doesn‘t mean... you know, I just want you to understand.”

Smiling, “Dean, we’ll work on your generosity issues later.”

Looking at Sam’s smiling face gave Dean the moment he needed to rebuild the battered walls he hid behind, perhaps this time he wouldn’t need to build them so high or so strong. Standing with a lecherous grin, he leaned down, breathing against Sam's ear, knowing the effect it had on the younger man. “Sam, I plan on being very generous later.”

Dean’s warm breath and promise of later sent a shiver down Sam’s spine. Grasping the letters he handed them back to Dean, “I think you should get rid of these, don't you?"

Taking the letters Dean walked to the stove; opening the small cover he tossed the letters inside, watching the flames as they quickly devoured another chapter of his life.

Tags: angst, au, horror, nc17, romance

CHAPTER 6
Christ! Sam was so cross that if Dean hadn’t turned and walked away he would have hit him. How was it possible to love someone so much and yet at the same time not like them? Sighing he rolled his head from side to side trying to ease some of the tension that seemed to have built up in his neck.

He understood that Dean didn’t want anything to happen to him. But Dean failed to see that Sam felt exactly the same way. It felt like he he’d been banging his head against a brick wall figuratively, and literally. He winced at a sharp pain behind his eyes

He groaned raising a hand to rub his forehead as another blast of pain passed through his head. Oh no! Not now, he couldn’t have one here, not in front of the other guests. Pushing back his chair he stood up looking for the exit from the dining room. Pain and light erupted behind his eyes. Sam felt himself falling, crashing into a nearby table. Blinding light seared his eyes. Blinking he found himself outside. Turning round he realized he was back at the ranch standing midway between the house and the barn. Dean was standing a few feet from him, his eyes fixed on something over Sam’s shoulder. Turning he saw what looked like a huge swirling black mass of smoke bearing down on them. In horror he watched as Dean was swallowed up in the swirling blackness. All that remained when it had gone was Dean’s black Stetson

“NO!” Sam screamed

“Mister Richards can you hear me?” A kindly voice asked.

“Is he alright, not having one of those fits is he?” A gravely voice enquired.

“No John he’s not. Did anyone see what happened?” Kind voice requested.

“Mister Richards?”

Someone was shaking his shoulders, calling his name. Opening his eyes he realized he was lying on his back on the floor. Several anxious faces were looking down at him. Blinking furiously to keep the tears of pain at bay Sam tried to gather his thoughts. Taking several deep breaths in an effort to keep the nausea at bay he sat up.

“Mister Richards, I’m Doctor Daniels. Can you tell me what happened?” Sam looked up into the kind brown eyes of a middle aged, smartly dressed, bearded gentleman.
“I... I think I tripped. Probably over my own feet.” He smiled ruefully hoping to allay their suspicions. Thankfully the nausea was fading; the very last thing he wanted was to be sick in front of all of these people.

“Did you bang your head, you seem a little dazed?” The doctor ran his hands carefully over Sam’s head feeling for lumps and any cuts.

“No I don’t think so.” He had no intention of telling the doctor that he had a splitting headache and at that precise moment couldn’t see properly either.
“I think I’m just suffering from a severe case of embarrassment, if you’ll excuse me up I’ll go to my room.” Rising to his feet he noticed the concerned faces and apologized for causing a scene. Sam thanked the doctor and made a hasty if somewhat shaky exit.

Stopping at the base of the stairs he checked to see if anyone was watching him, thankfully they all seemed to have returned to their meals. Taking a firm grip of the banister and his scattered thoughts. Sam hastily made his way to his room. Something bad was going to happen to Dean, the trouble was he didn’t know how much warning he’d been given.

Quickly divesting himself of his city clothes he changed into his jeans, checked shirt, leather jacket, work boots and hat. Grabbing the holster and the colt then fishing out the knives from under the bed he was ready to go.

Catching up with Dean did not take as long as Sam had feared it would. From the initial look on Dean’s face it was clear to Sam that he was not pleased to see him. He was proved right when the first words out of his mouth were “Sam, what the hell?”

“Dean, please, you have to listen to me. I’ve had another vision, a huge swirling cloud of black smoke.” he panted trying to catch his breath.
At Dean’s urging he quickly and with as much detail as possible told Dean everything that he could remember. He watched as Dean’s whole demeanor changed from annoyed to angry, from angry to concerned and finally settled on protective.

“Sounds like a demon, we’d better get home. Ruth and Isaac could be in danger and all the things we need for protection are back at the ranch.”

The closer they got to the ranch the worse the weather became. Huge thunderheads seemed to form before their eyes. The wind picking up from a gentle summer breeze to a breath stealing howl. Collars turned up, bandannas pulled up to protect mouths and noses. Stetsons rammed down on their heads they raced to beat the coming storm

Galloping over the last hill, the heavens opened, hail fell in stinging icy sheets. Ears flat to their heads the two horses tore into the yard making straight for the barn.

Ruth and Isaac ran from the cabin, hand in hand, heads bowed they made for the safety of the root cellar.

Over Sam’s shoulder Dean watched in horror as a funnel of black cloud formed to the left of the ranch house, touching down to form a monstrous tornado. Jumping from Blaze’s back he pulled Sam from the saddle “Sam, move your ass! Get to the root cellar! NOW! I’ll be right behind you.”

Both men fled raising their arms to protect their heads as they were pelted with fragments sucked up and then spat out of the swirling mass. Glancing over his shoulder Sam saw their home swallowed up and then spat out from the tornado like pieces of fire wood. A large piece struck his back throwing him within inches of the open root cellar door. Two pairs of hands grabbed him pulling him to safety.

*****
Sam had just confirmed something Dean never thought possible. In all his years he never believed he would ever find anyone as bull headed as his father. He would be willing to pay to see the two of them go toe to toe, Dean thought as he guided Blaze through the streets of Manhattan. It would be even money. He was momentarily distracted by the noise of someone pounding on the door to the doctor’s office. Reaching the outskirts of town he let the big stallion set his own pace.

Why couldn’t Sam see he had made the best choice for both of them? How he felt about Sam didn’t matter, he was doing it to keep him safe. It would hurt like hell to walk away, like all his other wounds it would heal. Just another scar, carried on his heart where no one would ever see.

Half way back to the ranch Dean heard a horse coming up fast. Turning he was surprised to see Sam pushing Merlin to a full gallop. Dreading another confrontation, he pulled up waiting for Sam’s arrival. “Sam, what the hell?” Dean asked giving Sam a chance to catch his breath.

“Dean, please, you have to listen to me. I’ve had another vision, a huge swirling cloud of black smoke.” he panted trying to catch his breath.

Oh God, Dean thought, a demon. He remembered Sam telling him about the sulfur when his parents died. He didn‘t know why Sam had been targeted, but he had to keep him safe. Looking at Sam, Dean told him he had to know everything, no matter how small the details.

Dean listened as Sam recounted the vision. He told him how they were at the ranch when he had seen Dean disappear in the swirling black smoke. They needed to get to the ranch now. Isaac and Ruth could be in danger.

Another half hour and they would be home. Dean watched the darkened horizon ahead. Just what they needed another late summer storm. Minutes later the sky opened up. They could feel the sting of the hailstones as it pelted their skin. Coming over the last rise, the wind picked up to ferocious proportions.

Pushing the horses as hard as they could, they pulled into the yard. Dean could only hope Ruth and Isaac had already sought shelter. Dean was yelling as loud as he could to be heard over the deafening roar. He watched as the huge black funnel cloud touched down. “Sam, move your ass. Get to the root cellar. NOW! I’ll be right behind you.” He watched as Sam ran towards the cellar door. He could feel himself being pushed by the wind. All his forward momentum was stopped, it was impossible to move on his own. Dean felt himself being lifted; he felt his body as it was slammed into a hard surface. Slowly he descended into total darkness.

*****

“Quick tie yourself to the beams. “ Isaac yelled above the roar of the wind.

“No! Dean’s still out there I have to get him.” Sam tried to disengage himself from Isaac’s grasp and get back up the stairs

“Sam, we don’t have time, the tornados nearly on us.” Pushing Sam back against the stout wooden support he lashed all three of them together. “Now close your eyes lad and pray!”

The noise was horrendous, a cross between a train, a heard of stampeding horses and what he would imagine screaming banshees sounding like. Jars of pickles and preserves rattled on the shelves, the pressure changed so rapidly that his ears popped. What sounded like the cellar door being ripped off its hinges then smashing glass made him open his eyes. Glass jars and even the wooden shelves were sucked out of the open door. Sam felt his legs leave the floor. The wind now an inhuman shriek tore the words from his mouth before he could give them voice. The only thing preventing him from being sucked from the cellar was the rope tied tightly around his waist. It felt as if the very air was being sucked from his lungs.

With a thump his backside hit the dirt floor. For a few seconds he did nothing but gasp for air. Ruth’s soft hand found his and squeezed tightly. At first he thought he had gone deaf for he could hear nothing. Then he realized the reason he could hear nothing was because there was nothing to hear. Everything had stopped.

Ruth was the first person to break the silence. “Isaac is it gone?”

“Stay there I’ll look.” untying the rope he carefully picked his way between the shards of broken glass, climbed the stairs and poked his head above ground. Announcing it was safe to leave the cellar.

The sight that greeted them was one of total destruction. The Ranch house was gone, as was the barn also the guest cabin. The very land itself looked like it had been scoured. At least a 50 yard wide strip of ground was bare. Grass, wild flowers and saplings all gone. Just a patch of bare brown earth remained. All that was left of the buildings was scattered as far as the eye could see.

“Oh Christ! Dean!” Sam yelled.

Cupping his hands to either side of his mouth he shouted, “Dean!” There was no reply.

Isaac appeared beside him. “Don’t worry son, Dean’s as tough as old boots, we’ll find him. Put these on.” He thrust a pair of work gloves into Sam’s hand. “You’ll cut your hands to ribbons without these on. Gonna be glass, metal all sorts of things mixed up with that lot.” He indicated with a wave of his gloved hand the piles of debris.

All three of them worked tirelessly, starting from the cabin, they searched in ever widening circles until the light faded. When Sam could no longer clearly see his hand in front of his face he paused. Taking off his gloves he pressed one hand to his aching back. The whole right side of his shirt under his jacket was soaking wet. Drawing his hand out he held it up in front of his face. Well it certainly was not sweat. He quickly wiped his hand on a piece of rag, and then hid it in his jacket pocket. Thankfully the dark color of his jacket would hide the injury from prying eyes.

“Sam, I have fresh coffee and fruit cake, come join us.”

Sam looked up at Ruth’s kind face illuminated by the lantern she was holding. Wisps of grey hair had escaped from her normally neat bun.

“Ruth I don’t have time to stop and drink coffee, I have to find him.” He hurriedly put the gloves back on to hide his blood stained hand.

“Sam I understand…”

“No Ruth you don’t.” Sam interrupted, wanting to say more but not knowing how.

Placing the lantern on the ground she reached up holding his face between her two hands.
“Sam, I understand more than you think. I know that Dean means as much to you as Isaac means to me.”

Her kindness and understanding were nearly Sam’s undoing, he fought hard to suppress the tears he could feel forming.

“Ruth, he’s leaving me, he was coming back to pack his things. He said he couldn’t be responsible for me.”

“Sam are you sure?” moving her hands she held one of his hands.

“I’ve pushed him to far, expected too much from him. Took for granted that he felt about me the same way I feel about him. But I was wrong. You can’t force someone to love you just because you love them. That’s what I tried to do Ruth. I was too stupid to read the signs, too stupid to know when to back off and leave him alone. Dean’s right, he does not need me complicating his life. I tried to force my ideas of a partnership onto him and that was wrong. How could I ever have thought that I would be good enough to hunt with him? I mean how stupid was that?” Sam swiped angrily at his eyes.

“Sam please, Dean loves you. He would not want you…”

“No! See, that’s the one thing I do know and Dean made quite sure that I did. Dean does not love me. How could he? He’s only known me a few weeks. I’d be like a millstone round his neck, forever holding him back. Preventing him from doing the one thing he loves most. Hunting. He’ll never stop and I would not want him to. So when I find him, and I will find him, Ruth. I am going to apologize for the dreadful things I said to him and then I will leave him in peace.”

“Sam, you don’t mean that” she looked at his sad face imploringly.

“Yes I do. These past few hours have made me realize that is the right thing to do. If I stay he will leave and I can’t force him out of his home. And if he stays, I would make his life a misery.” Bending down he picked up the lantern to resume his search.

Patting the young man on the back Ruth said, “I will bring that coffee and cake out for you. I expect you to eat and drink everything.” Turning to leave she noticed him wince. “Sam are you hurt?”

“No, it’s just a pulled muscle, nothing a hot bath won’t put right.”
In the end it was Isaac that brought out refreshments, along with a couple more lanterns.

It was just as the sun was coming up that Isaac spotted Blaze. He was standing by a fence post still wearing his saddle, the broken reins dangling down in front of him. As he moved closer he noticed the horse nudging with his nose at something sticking out of the pile of rubble. It was a hand.

“Sam! Sam!” Isaac yelled. “Come quick I’ve found him.” Dropping to his knees the old man carefully removed the large piece of timber that had hidden Dean from view. Quickly feeling for and finding a strong pulse, he sighed in relief.

Sam fell to his knees, breath locked in his lungs in fear, he could not bring himself to look at Dean. “Is… is he alive?”

“Yes, he’s alive Sam. Check him for broken bones and any serious injuries. Then carry him to the bunk house. I’ll get Ruth, some hot water and the kit.”
Sam didn’t see Isaac leave, his whole attention was riveted to Dean’s face. Taking a deep breath, he set about the task he had been given. Dean looked a mess, he lay on his left side, face covered in blood. His clothes were hanging off him in tatters. The exposed skin bruised and battered.

Having checked for any broken bones or serious injuries, Sam slid one arm under Dean’s shoulder and the other under his knees. Lifting carefully he nearly bit through his lip in an effort to hide the pain that flared in his back. Taking a calming breath he carried his precious load to the bunkhouse. Dean’s head nestled safely against his neck.

With practiced ease Ruth set about cleaning and stitching Dean’s head. While he and Isaac removed Dean’s boots, then cut the remains of his clothes off. Using a soft wash cloth Sam meticulously set about washing Dean, taking care to clean the dozens of small cuts that he could now see. Finally satisfied he covered him with a couple of warm blankets. Dean had been lucky, although his body was covered in small cuts, grazes and bruises; the only nasty injury was to his head.

Pulling up a chair Sam settled down to wait. He was determined to be there when Dean woke up.


AN. SORRY MY PARTNER HAS BEEN KIDNAPPED BY HER FAMILY AND WON'T BE BACK TILL SUNDAY SO IT LOOKS LIKE YOU ARE STUCK WITH THE ENGLISH ONE AGAIN, SORRY.
WE ARE PART WAY THROUGH WRITING THE THIRD AND FINAL PART OF DARK RIDERS 3 HONORE ET AMORE
PLEASE DON'T BE BASHFUL LET US KNOW WHAT YOU THINK REVIEWS/COMMENTS ARE IMPORTANT.

Tags: angst, au, horror, slash

Chapter 5
Dean was up before the sun. Everything had been packed. Placing the envelope on the table where he knew Sam couldn’t miss it he left for the barn. He knew it was just his imagination, but even Blaze seemed to snort his disapproval. Why couldn’t everyone understand he was just trying to protect Sam?

The hunt would take him close to the Nebraska border. With a little luck, Dean would be there first thing in the morning. He needed to get his head in the hunt, but his mind kept wandering back to yesterday. His argument with Sam had been bad. He couldn’t believe the things he had said, how badly he had hurt Sam He didn’t lie about not taking anyone else to his bed, now after Sam, he didn’t want anyone else. One thing he did know, he wasn’t willing to risk Sam’s life.

Dean had been fortunate to come across the small town. Not that he would really call it a town. It was basically two rows of wooden building. There was a small way station that saw to the stages that went through. They didn’t have rooms, but told Dean he could stretch out on the floor for the night. He gratefully accepted the plate of beans and stale biscuits offered for dinner. It wasn’t long before the conversation turned to the recent attacks.

All he knew from the telegram was there had been three deaths, a black dog the likely culprit. Dean had to step outside; afraid he would be physically ill. Three deaths! What the telegram failed to tell him was three young girls had been dragged off from an early evening picnic. A damn picnic, now they were dead. Their bodies had been found two days later. The only thing people could figure was a pack of wild dogs had killed them. Three little girls. He would find that son of a bitch and kill it!

Following the directions he had been given, Dean found the area he was looking for. The dog wouldn’t make an appearance until close to dusk. He set up camp to lure the beast out. As a child he hated the hours of waiting, of being still that hunting demanded, maybe that was why he was constantly moving. He took a minute to re-check his weapons, all guns loaded with silver bullets, two silver knives. One in his boot, the other in the sheath on his belt.

The night passed with nothing happening. Right after dawn Dean stretched out to get some much needed sleep. It was early afternoon by the time he woke. It would be a couple of hours before the dog would be out. If the dog didn’t show tonight, he might have to start looking elsewhere. The sun was slowly moving towards the western sky when Dean noticed the quiet. The familiar noises of the summer evening absent. No cicadas or crickets singing their nightly songs. The young hunter tensed, straining to hear anything in the deafening silence.

He could feel it in his bones. The black dog was close. Scanning the area revealed nothing, but too many years of hunting had his senses on high alert. By the time he saw the red eyes the dog was already in the air leaping towards him. He didn’t even have time to pull his gun as he was knocked to the ground. It took all his strength to keep the razor-like teeth from his throat and face. He felt sharp claws scrape across his abdomen before he was able to turn the beast. Sliding his hand down, he felt for the silver knife in his boot. Pulling out the knife he plunged it repeatedly into the dog’s chest. Its howl filled the night. Scrambling up, Dean pulled his pistol, firing all six rounds into the beast, watching as the red eyes finally stared sightless to the heavens.

It felt like hours as Dean waited for the black dog to burn, to make sure nothing was left. He cleaned the small wounds where the dog had scratched him. They were barely noticeable, wouldn’t even require stitches, in a week there would be no trace of them. He would find someplace for the night, then ride home tomorrow. The only thing he wanted now was to get back to Sam.

Great black thunderclouds hung low on the horizon. Dean had pushed Blaze hard to make it home before the encroaching storm. He noticed there was no light coming from the house. It was late, Sam was probably asleep. Both horse and rider were exhausted by the time they entered the barn. After the lantern was lit, Dean smiled happy to see Merlin in his stall, knowing Sam was only a short distance away.

Within the hour Dean had finished taking care of Blaze. He was filled with nervous excitement as he made his way to the house. The only thing he wanted to do was crawl in next to Sam, to see that he was safe. He felt the first drops of rain as tiny splats of water hit his skin, causing him to quicken his pace. Familiar with the darkness, he made his way silently down the hall.

Dean took a deep breath before softly knocking on the bedroom door. Hearing nothing he quietly opened it. He was stunned. The perfectly made bed was empty. Turning he hurried to the other room. Empty. Where the hell was Sam? Panic overtook him as he went through the house. It was completely empty.

He barely noticed the rain had picked up as he darted across the wet ground to Isaac’s cabin. Pounding on the door, he waited impatiently. Isaac had barely opened the door when Dean pushed inside. “Where’s Sam!?” Dean demanded. “I told you not to let him leave.”

Now awake, Isaac replied. “Sam’s in Manhattan. He was determined to go. We couldn’t stop him.”

“When did he leave? How do you know he didn’t follow me? He could be anywhere.” Dean was getting more agitated.

“Sam didn’t follow you. He’s staying at the hotel.” Isaac tried to assure Dean that Sam was safe.

Dean‘s voice was desperate. “I need to go.”

Dean stopped his frantic pacing as Ruth took his arm. “Sit down,“ she implored. “Dean, you can’t go. You’re exhausted. I doubt Blaze is any condition to make it there tonight, especially in this weather. Go get some sleep. Sam will still be there tomorrow.”

“I’ll take one of the other horses,” Dean said pulling away

“No, Dean, you won’t.” Isaac stepped in front of him blocking his way. “I did as you told me with Sam, when I knew better. I’m not letting you leave tonight.”

“Get out of my way Isaac,” Dean glared at the older man, the anger back, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You do what you have to; I’ll do what I have to.” Isaac looked up not letting the young hunter intimidate him.

Dean took a step towards Isaac, only stopping when he heard Ruth’s surprised gasp. Both men turned to look at the frightened woman. Isaac stepped aside letting Dean pass, watching as he stalked towards the house.

The storm was raging around him as he left the small cabin. By the time he made it to the house he was soaked through and through. He left a trail of water as he fumbled around for the lamp, with a flick of a match the room was cast in a soft glow. Dean ran his hand down his face wiping the water from his wet skin. Sitting down he noticed an envelope on the table with his name written in Sam‘s neat scrawl. Picking it up slowly, he turned it over in his hands. Absently Dean traced his thumb over his name, the blue ink smearing across the stark white envelope where his wet hand touched it. Taking a deep breath Dean tore it open; his hands couldn’t stop shaking as he pulled the single sheet of paper out. The words blurred together before a single teardrop splashed onto the paper.

It didn’t take Dean long to find what he was looking for, he didn‘t remember the bottle being over half empty. At least the whiskey would dull the pain enough to get him through the night. Dean tipped the bottle back feeling the slow burn as the fiery liquid spilled down his throat working its way to his belly. Stepping outside he shivered as the rain cooled air enveloped him. Dean took another long pull of the whiskey, letting the bottle slip down his hand where it dangled between his fingers. Leaning against the porch post, he let it support him as he watched a flash of lightning in the distance, and heard the rumble of thunder. Tipping the bottle back one more time Dean realized it was empty. Throwing the bottle as hard as he could, he heard the glass shatter as it landed in the darkness.

With his back to the porch post Dean slid down until his butt hit the porch. He drew his knees up to his chest wrapping his arms around them. Here sitting in the rain where no one could see, he let his tears flow. The thunder silenced the sobs that wracked his body. It had been years since he cried for himself. Years that had weighed heavily on him. Dean let the rain pour down on him. He wished it was that easy, that his pain could be washed away by the summer rain. Whether it was exhaustion or the whiskey, he finally drifted off to sleep.

“Dean, Dean, wake up,” Ruth’s voice broke through the haze. “Come on, we need to get you inside.”

He felt two sets of hands pull him up. He was cold and wet, his body cramped from sitting on the porch. “No, lem’me be,” he heard himself say as Ruth and Isaac stood him up and dragged him into the house.

The smell of coffee woke Dean. The last thing he remembered was sitting in the rain.
Sitting up, he stretched trying to work the stiffness from his neck and shoulders. Dean’s mind was assaulted by the memories of the previous night. Oh God, he couldn’t believe what he had done. Isaac and Ruth had always been good to him. They had tended his wounds, kept his secret, done everything he asked of them and how did he repay their kindness? He demanded and threatened them in their own home.

Pulling on his jeans, Dean strolled into the kitchen, surprised to see Ruth and Isaac at the table speaking quietly. Pouring himself a cup of coffee, Dean joined them. Clearing his throat, he waited a minute before speaking. “I’m sorry, sorry about last night. I had no right to go into your home and act that way. You were right; I was too blind to see what I was doing.”

“You’re already forgiven, Dean, we understand, you were upset.” Ruth and Isaac shared a knowing smile before she laid a comforting hand on Dean’s arm. “Dean, go talk to Sam. It’s not too late. You owe him that.”

With a tired smile Dean stood, walking around the table he leaned down placing a kiss on Ruth’s head before extending his hand to Isaac. He again apologized and thanked them before he went to his room. He had some thinking to do.

By the time Dean was ready to go Blaze and Merlin were saddled and waiting. Dean had some decisions to make and the ride to Manhattan would give him that time. He had made a mess of everything His life had never prepared him for someone like Sam. His dad was right. Their lives were never meant to be normal. He had been a fool to even believe that was possible. His dad always told him take your comfort where you can get it, then move on. He had broken all his fathers’ rules and look where that got him. He was still alone. How could he have allowed himself to get close to anyone?

Everyone he ever cared for had either died or left. The only thing he had ever done right was hunt. That’s who he was, that’s all he was.

Wherever he went, he left a behind a trail of ruined lives. If he rode away now, Sam’s life could still be salvaged. Sam was young and strong, he would get over Dean.

Dean’s heart was pounding as he entered the hotel. Glancing around he looked for Sam. Stopping at the desk, he nervously waited for the clerk to finish with the people ahead of him. He tried to keep his voice calm as he asked if they would let Mr. Richards know he had a visitor. As the clerk stepped from behind the desk, Dean informed him he would be waiting in the lounge.
He knew he shouldn’t be sitting around moping. The first couple of days in town, he forced himself to get out and act like nothing was wrong. Sam met several new people, being friendly, going through the motions. Smiling when called for, laughing at another joke about how tall he was, or how he talked funny. It was hard to concentrate when his mind kept returning to Dean every time someone mentioned his name.

This morning hadn’t been any different. He was in the middle of his breakfast when he heard his name. Looking up he recognized the friendly looking man. He had to think for a minute before the name came to him. Standing, Sam offered his hand, “Pastor Evans, how nice to see you again.”

“Yes, Sam, I don’t know if you met my family,” the pastor indicated to his wife and daughter as the women approached his table.

“No sir,” Sam said, waiting for the man to introduce the pair.

“This is my wife Martha,” he said as his wife nodded to Sam, “and my daughter Lucy Ann.”

“It’s a pleasure,” he said, suddenly nervous under the scrutiny of Lucy Ann’s stare. It was the same look he had received from young ladies at the balls he had been required to attend when he was younger.

“Sam, I hope to be seeing you again in church come tomorrow…,” the pastor started only to be interrupted by Lucy Ann.

“Yes Sam, please do,” Lucy Ann’s blue eyes fluttered coyly. “Papa’s been working on his sermon all week. It’s how to redeem sinners.” Her smile came out more as a leer, the way she was eyeing him from head to toe.

“Now Lucy Ann,” her father smiled, “Young Sam here doesn’t need to worry about that. Right Sam? Maybe you can convince Mr. Winchester to join us as well.”

“Um…uh... Mr. Winchester is out of town at the moment.” Sam stuttered caught off guard at the mention of Dean’s name.

“Well, Sam we’ll see you tomorrow then,” Martha piped in, “It was a pleasure meeting you.”

“My pleasure. Ma’am, Lucy Ann.” Sam said as he shook the pastor’s hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow, sir.”

Sitting down, he pushed away his plate, his appetite ruined. He had planned on going to church tomorrow, hoping that Ruth and Isaac would be there. Dean’s note said he could be gone up to two weeks, but perhaps they had heard something. The thought of meeting Lucy Ann Evans again made him cringe. Great, he would have to listen to a sermon about sinners. In the eyes of the world he and Dean were sinners. Nothing about the way Dean touched him felt like sin. There was something reverent in the way those hands caressed him. He had always been so tender when they were together like that.

Sam stood trying to shake off those memories. He tossed his napkin on his plate, pulling some coins from his pocket dropping them on the table. Quickly he made his way through the lobby seeking out the solitude of his room.

Sam flopped down on the bed. He could feel the dull throb of a headache starting at the base of his skull. Pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes he hoped to stave it off. Opening his eyes Sam checked his watch, it was early afternoon. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Shaking the cobwebs from his head, he rose pouring some water in the basin, washing the sleep from his eyes. He still had a nagging reminder of his headache, but it had eased from the earlier pressure. Putting on a fresh shirt, Sam sat at the desk trying to decide what to do for the rest of the day.

The loud knock at the door echoed through the room startling Sam. Opening the door he was surprised to see the desk clerk. “Mr. Richards, you have a visitor in the lounge.” The timid young man was gone before Sam could even ask who it was. As Sam descended the stairs, he tried to think who would be there waiting.

Standing in the entry Sam thought his heart had stopped. Even with his back turned, Sam would have known him anywhere. Dean was looking out the window; Sam could see the nervous energy coming from the man. Taking a deep breath to calm himself he entered the room.

The only purpose for the window was to let light into the room. The thick lead glass gave a distorted view of the outside world. As Dean stared out the window, he thought how much that mirrored his life. People would be terrified if they saw what was really out there. He was never given the choice to put the truth behind him; his dreams of a fresh start had turned into a nightmare. Lost in his thoughts Dean didn’t hear Sam’s approach.

“Dean.” Sam repeated, this time a little louder. Any other time the young Englishman would have laughed at seeing Dean jump at the noise, but he was too relieved to see him there.

Dean sheepishly looked up at Sam, a little embarrassed that the younger man had surprised him. Indicating a set of chairs in the corner, Dean and Sam walked to the back of the room where they could have some privacy.

“Sam, it’s good to see you.” Dean said, hoping his voice didn’t betray him.

Sam’s eyes did a quick once over looking for injuries. “I see you made it back in one piece.”

“Yeah, told you I could handle it on my own.” Dean flashed Sam his most charming smile.

“I wasn't congratulating you.” the sarcasm in Sam’s voice was obvious.

“Sam, I didn't come to argue. We already did that”

Hearing Dean’s tired drawl, Sam softened his tone. “What did you come for Dean?”

“I came because I owe you an apology. Sam, you were right. I should never have brought you here. I can't be responsible for anything happening to you, you're not a hunter. I don‘t want you to be one”

“You’re right, I'm not a hunter, not yet, but I can be.” Sam searched Dean’s eyes, pleading. “You’ve already taught me so much. I’m asking you to give me a chance, please Dean? You owe me that. As I told you before you are not my father. You offered me a partnership Dean, a partnership means sharing. I'm not going to sit at home like a wife waiting for the day you don’t come back. If that’s what you want then it’s not me, and just for the record I don't want you to be a hunter either.”

“I know that Sam. I told you who I was. I’m a hunter. I can’t turn my back on what’s out there.

“I don’t expect you to turn your back on hunting Dean. I want to help you. Now that I know what’s out there do you really think I can ignore it anymore than you can?”

“That doesn't mean you have to go looking for it, that's not what I want for you. Sam, I don't want hunting to be part of your life. You can still have your dream, you can have the ranch. I’ll make the arrangements.”

“Dean that’s your home. There’s no reason it can’t be our home, it can be our dream. You can‘t just leave” Sam reached out for Dean, only to have him move away from his outstretched hand.

“No, Sam, it can’t, that life was never meant for me. Hunting is the only thing I know how to do. It‘s the only thing I‘ve ever done right”

“So you’re just going to leave, going to hunt on your own?” Sam’s voice dropped an octave. “You just don't get it do you? You really are a selfish bastard; you see one side and one side only. Yours! Nobody else’s views matter at all. Do you think me losing you is going to hurt any less than you losing me?”

“No, Sam, it hurts like hell. I know what's out there for me. I don't want you to become like me, I’m tainted, I destroy everything I touch. You still have faith, you still believe in people.”

“Yes Dean, I believe in you, in us. I believe in a life we could have together, but you have to learn to share. That means everything, not just parts of yourself.”

“I don't know if I can do that. I've tried, I've shared more with you then anyone else, and look where we are, Sam...”

“Then you obviously don't think enough of me to try. Do you realize that you have never said how you feel about me? Never said that you love me.” Sam looked despairingly down at his boots. He could feel it all slipping away. This was not how he had envisaged their reunion going.


“God, Sam,” Dean looked straight into Sam’s hazel eyes. “Don't you know how I feel? I'm doing what's best for both of us. If I leave now you can still move on with your life”

“You know I've just figured you out Dean. You're a coward. You're so afraid of allowing someone in that you shut everyone out. Afraid of anyone getting too close, close enough that you might have to care for them let them care for you. Dean, you don’t have to be scared.” The last few words came out as a whisper he sought Dean’s eyes willing him to believe, to trust.

“So I'm a selfish bastard and a coward? Why would you want to be with someone like that?” Dean attempted to keep his voice even, not let Sam know how much the words hurt

“Because I love you Dean, and that’s never going to change.” Dean had denied his physical touch but he hoped his spoken words would reach him. Would penetrate the protective wall he had built around himself. The wall that kept him safe, kept him from being hurt.

Love, the word hit him like a punch. It wasn‘t the first time Sam had told him, but this time was different. This time it wasn‘t hidden in the darkness, like a secret. It took him a moment to push his emotions down, to re-build the walls, to pull on his mask. “Love, Christ Sam, we don't even know each other. You don't even have anything to compare it to.”

“Like you do, you mean? I'm good enough to share your bed, good enough to share your home, but not good enough to share you feelings. I don't need a long list of conquests to know that you will be the only one for me.”

Looking around Dean made sure the room was still empty. Their conversation was dangerous and could have deadly consequences. “Sam, you deserve better then me. You’re special. You deserve someone good like you. You’re better off without me.”

“If you don't want me, Dean, at least have the guts to tell me instead of making up excuses.” God, he was loosing him, he could feel it. Dean was going to leave him.

Dean wondered if Sam had even listened to what he had said. “I'm not making excuses.”

“You already told me you could find someone else for your bed.” Sam looked away rubbing his neck; he refused to look at Dean. “Someone like Vince? I saw the way the two of you were talking to each other.”

“Vince. You were jealous of Vince? Hell, Sam, I’m not the one he was interested in. I don’t want Vince. I don’t want anyone else. I’m sorry I ever said that. I was angry. I didn’t mean it, you didn‘t deserve it.” Dean’s green eyes begged for forgiveness.

Both men went silent at the loud click of boots on the wooden floor. A group of men entered the lounge walking towards the large leather sofa near the window.

Dean realized this would be the perfect time to leave. One thing he had instilled in Sam was the need to be discreet about their relationship. He knew Sam wouldn’t cause a scene. The possible consequences were too severe. Standing Dean looked down at Sam. “I told you I didn’t come to argue, nothing has changed. I brought Merlin, he’s at the livery. Goodbye Sammy.”


Authors notes, Hi everyone, just a quick word to let you know you will have to suffer my replies to your reviews this week [ yeah you are stuck with the English half lol]. My wonderful, long suffering American partner is away for the week. I think she is hiding after what Dean has done [ We each write one character, she writes Dean and I get English Sammy] Another thing you might like to know, when we write the argument scenes we do them live on I.M. Yes we actually argue can be quite funny at times especially if we get carried away and forget its Sam and Dean arguing not us!
Well off to post be gentle with me lol and hope you enjoyed this latest chapter.

Tags: angst, au, horror, nc-17, wincest
Current Music: Evanescence

Title: Dark Riders 2 Storm Warning
Authors: ForsakenBeloved

Pairings: Sam/Dean
Ratings: NC 17/adult
Warnings: Slash/Angst/Violence/Wincest/Au
Disclaimer: Don’t Belong To Us
Summary: Sam follows Dean to his ranch in the flint hills of Kansas. When disaster strikes, will an ancient prophecy and a pact made by their parents before they were born, bring them closer together, or tear them apart?
Status: Complete. Posting weekly
Word Count: 38630 APROX
A/N: Thank you to all the readers who have asked about a second story. Well here it is, hope it does not disapoint. The story is complete and will be posted once a week [or you ask real nice and then we might post sooner lol] This is the second in a series of stories that follow Dean and Sams adventures.
A big thank you to Louy for the awesome banner thanks mate, you rock!

Storm Warning Chapter 1 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/2808.html
Storm Warning Chapter 2 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/2808.html
Storm Warning Chapter 3 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/3113.html
Storm Warning Chapter 4


A clash of thunder woke Dean from his sleep. The heavy rain pelted the ground giving some relief from the summer heat. Unable to get back to sleep he stood looking out the window as torrents of water spilled down the glass and lightning flashed across the midnight sky. Dean turned to see Sam as he tossed and turned in his sleep. Another clap of thunder had Sam sitting up. Momentarily confused he glanced around until his eyes fell on Dean. Climbing out of bed he crossed the short distance. Standing behind Dean, Sam’s strong arms encircled his lover’s waist drawing him close. Dean could feel the slight tremble in Sam’s body.

“Storm wake you, Sammy?” Dean asked as he reveled in the warmth of Sam’s body.

“I guess,” Sam’s voice was still sleep rough. “I was dreaming about a storm. Huge black swirling rain clouds.”

They stayed pressed together; fingers entwined watching the storm, neither wanting to break the spell. Dean wasn’t sure how long they stood like that. Feeling his legs start to cramp, he took Sam’s hand as they started to the bed. “Come on Sam, still have a few hours til dawn, get some sleep.”

Sam fell back to sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Dean’s mind betrayed his tired body, not letting sleep come easy


Dean always made it a point to rise at least an hour before Sam. As much as Sam meant to him, he was set in his ways. It was difficult to keep his mind on his tasks, to think clearly with Sam so near. He was constantly distracted. This morning was no different, he needed a clear head.

By the time Sam stumbled into the kitchen, half the table was covered in books. Sam’s breakfast was wrapped and placed on the stove to keep it warm. Grabbing his plate Sam sat down to eat. Dean continued to pour over the books jotting down notes while Sam finished his meal. Dean was barely aware of Sam clearing his dishes from the table.

A few minutes later he jumped as he felt long fingers kneading his tense shoulders. Sam’s hands moved around, sliding slowly down his chest. God, it felt so good, but he didn’t have time for this, not this morning. Sam leaned down his breath warm against Dean’s ear, “When I woke up, I was hoping I would find you still asleep.”

“Yeah, well not all of us can sleep all day. Somebody has to get all this work done.” The words spilled from Dean’s mouth before he could stop them.

Dean felt Sam stiffen behind him. Looking up he saw the hurt on Sam’s face.

“I’m sorry Sam, I didn’t mean it,” he offered as an apology. I’m just tired, give me time to finish up then I’m yours for the rest of the day.”

“Fine, Dean, I think I’ll go for a ride.” Sam was out the door before Dean could even reply.

Running his hand through his hair, Dean shook his head, God he was tired.

Supper was quiet, Sam still resentful from Dean’s sudden outburst earlier that morning. Dean had been dreading this ever since Isaac had given him the telegram. He thought about it all morning weighing his choices. Hearing the far off rumble of thunder he was certain that wasn’t the only storm brewing.

Dean paced nervously stopping to clear his throat. “There’s a hunt that has to be taken care of, it’s a black dog. I’m leaving tomorrow.”

Sam grabbed John’s journal from the table, turning to the pages he had recently read. “To kill a black dog you need silver bullets.”

“Sam, I know how to kill a black dog. I’m leaving tomorrow, not we. You’re not going with me, you’re not ready.”

“I’ve been researching them, Dean. It’s not a one man job.” Closing the book, he looked earnestly at Dean

“It’s not that simple. You have to track it and find it before you can kill it.”

“So, I’ll follow you, I swear I’ll do everything you tell me to. Someone has to watch your back”

“I said no, Sam. Have you ever spent twelve hours straight in the saddle?”

“Actually yes, the local hunt started at dawn and ended at dusk.” Sam replied.

Dean’s harsh laughter filled the room, “A foxhunt? You can't be serious; I told you what I do. Christ Sam, this isn't a game that rich boys play. How many people die chasing a damn fox? Lives depend on what I do, I thought you understood that.”

“I know that, Dean, I'm not stupid.” Sam’s annoyance was obvious. “You asked me if I had spent 12 hours in a saddle. Well I have. As for the rest I've had first hand proof of what you hunt, Dean.”

“I know you’re not stupid. We would be in the middle of nowhere. We wouldn’t be coming home at night, no hot meal waiting. Each hunt is different; do you know how to find water? Are you willing to eat what's available? If something happens are you ready to kill Merlin? Prepared to eat him if food runs short? Are you ready to kill me to keep me from turning into a monster? Can you make those choices?”

Dean reached over lifting Sam’s face, searching his eyes. His tone softened, “Sam, you’re not ready, we both know it. You have to understand; I can’t hunt and worry about you too. Things like that get you killed.”

“Dean if you're waiting for me to measure up to you, then I probably never will. There are plenty of good hunters out there not as good as you who hunt.”

“I said you’re not ready, you're not trained. You're smart and you can be a good hunter, but you have to be alive to be good. I've been doing this most of my life, sometimes good isn't enough.”

“You even say in your journal it’s a two man job.” Sam’s voice rose, “You're not going on your own.”

‘Sam, don’t tell me what to do when it comes to hunting.”

“Dean you're not my father, I make my own decisions now.” He stared at Dean defiantly.

Dean grabbed Sam‘s chair, looking down at the younger man, “Not when it comes to hunting. You don't hunt until I say you're ready.”

“So that’s the way it's going to be huh?” Sam rose angrily from his chair. “Dean I shoot as good as you, I'm quite capable of watching your back.”

“Sam, I said no, not this time, when you're ready we'll start with something easy.”

“What if something happens to you?” Sam’s voice was barely a whisper.

“I know what I'm doing it's not the first time I've done this alone. If something happens all this is yours. I've already taken care of that.”

“You think that’s what I’m talking about? God, Dean…. You know something, I just realized, you're a selfish jerk!” Sam yelled as he swiped angrily at a stray tear.

“If keeping you alive is selfish than yes, I am. How many times do I have to tell you, I won't risk your life,” Dean reached up to wipe away another stray tear as it fell down Sam's face.

Sam angrily pushed Dean away, “Who's going to keep you alive? Dean I've lost everything I can't lose you.”

Grabbing Sam, Dean pulled him close, “You won’t lose me Sam, I promise, I’ll be back.”

“Dean, don’t. Don’t make promises you can’t keep. Take me with you, please. Don’t go without me.”

Sam’s hands were holding his arms so tight, “Sam, I can’t. I need to know you’re here. I need to know you’re safe. I can do this alone; I don’t need you this time.”

Angrily Sam shoved Dean back, “That’s right, Dean, I forgot. You don’t need anybody. The only time you need me is when I’m laying in your bed.”

“Sam, you’re the only person I’ve had in my bed, but don’t think I couldn’t get someone else.”

Dean looked up at Sam’s audible gasp. Gone was the anger and defiance, replaced by hurt and pain.

Dean watched Sam turn and silently walk down the hall. The soft click of the closing door was the loudest noise Dean had ever heard.

Dean could no longer stand the quiet. Walking out into the night he slammed the door behind him. The warm summer night did nothing to cool his anger. He was angry at Sam; angry at himself He couldn’t afford to be distracted on a hunt and Sam was a distraction
.

Ruth knew the moment she opened the door something was amiss. She had never seen Dean like this. He was always calm and in control, nothing like this agitated man standing at her door. Inviting him in, she excused herself while she went to get Isaac.

Dean continued to pace as he informed them he would be leaving for a hunt. In all the time they had known him, they had never had cause to disagree with the young man before now. They couldn’t believe what he had just asked them to do. The more they tried to reason with him the more upset he became. By the time he left he had given them no choice.

The house was unnaturally quiet when Dean returned. He slowly walked down the hall, stopping he knocked lightly waiting for Sam’s answer. “Sammy?” He called through the closed door. Still no reply. With a deep sigh, he proceeded down the hall to the other bedroom.

“You’re the only one I have ever taken to my bed, but don’t think I couldn’t find someone else.”

The hurtful words kept playing over and over in his mind as he paced their bedroom. Dean had been snappy for a few days, the tension gradually building. Yes he’d been aware of it, but apart from giving Dean some space and time to himself he had not known what else to do. Hell if it meant spending every Sunday with Ruth, Isaac and half the old women of Manhattan to give Dean the time and space he seemed to need then he would do it.

But what if it was more than that? Did Dean in fact regret his hasty offer of a home and life together?

The squeak and rattle of the kitchen door alerted him to the fact that Dean had gone out. Opening the bedroom door he walked into the hall, he could just make out Dean through the kitchen window as he strode across the yard to Isaac and Ruth’s cabin.

What could he possibly want with Isaac at this time of night? All the chores had been done, the barn secured for the night. Turning round he looked at the kitchen table, all the notes on the hunt and Sam’s journal were gone. Sam’s stomach dropped. After all he had said Dean was going on the hunt and he was going alone. After drumming it into Sam’s head for the last few weeks that rules were there for a reason. Rules existed to protect you and protect the other hunters you worked with. Dean it seemed had no hesitation in breaking the rules when it suited him. This wasn’t a small one either. To take on a two man job on your own was mad. Okay Sam knew he had a fair way to go with his training, but he was a damn good rider could handle a shotgun and thanks to Deans punishing fitness regime he was fit. Okay so his knife work needed a little more work. Surely he had learned enough to watch Dean’s back? Sam didn’t care who took down the beast as long as Dean had back up. That’s all he’d wanted to do, follow Dean and watch his back, or failing that find another hunter to help. Sam loved Dean with all his heart and soul and there was no way he was letting him, hunt on his own.

Sam decided to sit and wait patiently for him to come back from his visit to Isaac’s. Hopefully he would have calmed down and would now listen to reason. Picking up the bottle of whiskey and a couple of glasses he returned to their room to wait. Time dragged by slowly. Opening the bottle Sam poured himself a glass plus one for Dean, they often had one before going to bed. It had become a nightly ritual for them. They would sit on the porch swing, sipping the whiskey and watching the stars. Dean pointing out that the seven brightest stars from Ursa Major that made up the Plough were the key to finding the north or Pole star. Very useful when trying to find north at night. The summer triangle, made up of the three brightest stars. Deneb, Vega and Altair from the constellations Cygnus, Lyra and Aquila. Taking Sams hand he had traced the sinuous shape of Draco the dragon and finally the large w of Cassiopeia.

Eventually lack of company, along with a second glass of whiskey led Sam’s thoughts full circle. Dean’s final hurtful words, “but don’t think I couldn’t get someone else.”
The more he thought about it the more upset he became. All his insecurities and fears came flooding back to taunt him. Sam knew that words spoken in the heat of the moment, words spoken in anger often were not meant. But what if they were? His traitorous inner voice whispered. What if Dean was having second thoughts, realized he had bitten off more than he could chew? God, he’d tried so hard to learn about the creatures and supernatural beings they could come across while hunting. What signs to look for, their weaknesses, their strengths. Sam knew he had a long way to go but surely it was better to have some backup than none at all? Getting comfortable on the bed, Sam made up his mind to share his thoughts with Dean when he came in.

The bright morning sunshine through the checked curtains woke him from a dreamless sleep. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he noticed that he still had his clothes on. Sitting up he noticed that Dean’s side of the bed had not been slept in. Running to the spare bedroom he opened the door, that bed hadn’t been slept in either.

“Dean?” Sam shouted

“Dean!” Only silence met his anxious ears.

Yanking open the cupboard door he quickly checked their weapons. The Winchester rifle, the colt, several knives plus quite a lot of ammunition was missing.

Oh god! Sam’s stomach dropped, he swallowed the huge lump in his throat that was threatening to choke him. Pulling out his pocket watch and flipping open the engraved case Sam was surprised to discover it was eight o’clock already. “Dammit!” Slamming the door shut he raced down the hall through the kitchen. Sprinting across the yard to the barn he was greeted not by Merlin’s welcoming whinny but total silence. The horses were gone. Even Isaac’s and the two work horses, all were missing. The stalls silent and empty. Grabbing his head in both hands he tried to think what was going on.

“Sam?” Ruth’s gentle voice called his name.

Turning he watched her approach. He thought she looked nervous her hands were twisting the material of her white apron creasing it. “Ruth what’s going on? Where are the horses and where is Merlin?” Quickly Sam closed the gap between them.

“I’m sorry, Sam. Dean, asked, Isaac, to take all the horses. He made him promise not to return them till tomorrow.”

“He what!” Sam shouted.

“I’m so sorry; Isaac didn’t want to do it. He and Dean had strong words over it. At one point I thought they might come to blows.” She reached out a hand placing it on Sam’s arm. “Dean owns the ranch and in the end, Isaac, didn’t have a choice but to do as, Dean, ordered.” She watched as his eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared in anger.

‘Damn him, Ruth. Isaac had no right. Half of this ranch is mine. Where is he? I need my horse back from where ever he’s hidden him.”

Wiping her sweating hands on her apron she studied Sam’s handsome face. Anger mixed with a fierce determination marred his usually placid features.

“He left before sunrise, so he should be back soon. Please, Sam, he was only doing his job. Neither of us knew that you and Dean were partners in the ranch. Otherwise he would have flat out refused to hide the horses. As soon as he gets back I’ll send him to the house to see you.”

“No. Tell him to fetch the horses back and when he’s done that, have him saddle Merlin. I’m going into town. I’m not mad with you or Isaac, Ruth, there’s only one person I’m mad at.” With those parting words he walked back to the house.

Taking cheese, bread plus pickle and milk from the pantry Sam made himself a hasty breakfast. It was only as he sat at the kitchen table that he saw the note addressed to him from Dean.

Sam I will be gone for 2 weeks.
You are not ready to hunt.
Don’t try following me.
We will talk when I get back.
Dean.

Swallowing mouthfuls of bread and cheese he read the few lines of script Dean had penned. It suddenly dawned on him that this was probably how he would find out that Dean had died. A hastily scrawled note from the local sheriff or some unknown hunter telling him that Dean was dead. That’s if he was lucky and there was a body to find.

There was no way he could wait here week after week not knowing if Dean was ever coming back. Wondering if he was sick or too injured to make it home. He couldn’t do that, couldn’t be that person who waited never knowing what had happened to the person he loved. It would drive him insane. Better to leave now. At least he could pretend Dean was alive and well. That way no matter what happened in the future he could hang on to the illusion that somewhere, Dean was alive and well.

Sam strongly suspected that in Dean’s eyes he would never be good enough to hunt. There would always be some reason, some excuse why he couldn’t go, why he would have to stay at behind. Dean had to be made to see sense and the only way that would happen was if Dean came home and he wasn’t here waiting for him.

Mind made up he wrote a brief note to Dean, leaving it on the table. Quickly he packed a bag with enough clothes for a few days. Anything else he needed could be bought in town. Now all he had to do was to wait for Isaac to return with the horses. Staying any longer would just be pure torture, everywhere he looked he saw Dean’s things. Everything he touched reminded him, of Dean. No, he couldn’t stay here; in fact he had made up his mind, there and then to leave. Okay it would take him a fair few hours to walk to Manhattan, probably five or six. But he was fit and what else did he have to do with his time.

Three hot dusty hours later he had thought of plenty of better things to do with his time. And surprisingly none of them involved walking 15 miles along a dry stone track.
Admittedly it was one of the most beautiful tracks he had walked along. The flint hills of Kansas were much like parts of southern England, rolling hills covered in wild flowers, grasses and abundant wildlife. The prairie chicken and the herd of wild mustang he’d spotted a couple of days ago whilst out riding Merlin.

Hearing the sound of approaching horses Sam was not at all surprised to see Isaac leading Merlin. Stopping beside Sam he pulled off his dusty Stetson and wiped his arm across his sweating forehead, then beat the dust from his hat against the side of his leg.

Both men looked at each other, neither knowing quite what to say. Isaac pulled Merlin forward. “Thought you might need your horse. Mighty long walk to town without him.”

Taking the proffered reins he swung his long leg over the saddle and settled his bag on the horn. Picking up the canteen he washed out his mouth before taking a long drink. Watching the older man nervously picking at a loose thread on the cuff of his shirt, Sam said. “Its okay, Isaac, you can go back now. And just for the record I don’t blame you. Dean, put you in an impossible position, you had no choice.”

Placing his hat back on his head Isaac said, “might as well keep you company, it’s not far now and Ruth gave me a list of things to get in town.” he held up an impressive list written in Ruth’s neat handwriting.

“What you mean is, Dean, told you to keep an eye on me, didn’t he?” Sam watched as Isaac squirmed slightly. “Christ! I’m not some old woman or a child that needs watching and protecting all the time!”

“That’s what I told him, but he wouldn’t listen. Told me if I didn’t like my job he’d find someone else to do it for me.” Looking up at Sam from under the brim of his hat he continued. “Look I’ll not try to get you to come back. You’re man enough to make your own decisions. But it’d be more than my jobs worth not to see you safely booked into a hotel.”

With a sigh Sam agreed. “I need you to take Merlin back with you. I won’t need him while I’m in town and if I don’t come back I want you to set him free. He’s young and strong enough to take over from the old stallion who leads the mustang herd. He’d have a good life Isaac.” What he didn’t say was that he couldn’t cope with the memories keeping the spotted horse would bring.

Thankfully Isaac didn’t argue with him or try to make him change his mind, even when he handed over the reins and said his goodbyes at the hotel.

Booking in for a week he ordered a bath, and then slowly climbed the stairs to his room. Later that night as he lay awake, he wondered what Dean was doing, if he was safe. The words to an old prayer came to mind and he found himself praying for Dean’s safe return.

Tags: angst, au
Current Music: Kosheen

Title: Dark Riders 2 Storm Warning
Authors: ForsakenBeloved
Pairings: Sam/Dean
Ratings: NC 17/adult
Warnings: Slash/Angst/Violence/Wincest/Au
Disclaimer: Don’t Belong To Us
Summary: Sam follows Dean to his ranch in the flint hills of Kansas. When disaster strikes, will an ancient prophecy and a pact made by their parents before they were born, bring them closer together, or tear them apart?
Status: Complete. Posting weekly
Word Count: 38630 APROX
A/N: Thank you to all the readers who have asked about a second story. Well here it is, hope it does not disapoint. The story is complete and will be posted once a week [or you ask real nice and then we might post sooner lol] This is the second in a series of stories that follow Dean and Sams adventures.
A big thank you to Louy for the awesome banner thanks mate, you rock!

Storm Warning Chapter 1 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/2808.html
Storm Warning Chapter 2 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/2808.html
Storm Warning Chapter 3 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/3113.html


Dean allowed Sam the luxury of sleeping late while making breakfast. It was a small reward for all the hard training for the past two weeks. Walking into the bedroom, the sight of Sam tangled up in the sheet brought a slow smile to his face. Leaning down he whispered in Sam’s ear, “Time to rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty. I have a surprise for you.”

As he turned to leave Sam grabbed his hand drawing him close, “Come back to bed and show me,” his voice was sleepy and inviting.

Although tempted, Dean just shook his head and walked back to the kitchen. Minutes later he heard Sam’s bare feet pad across the kitchen floor. Dean felt the closeness of Sam’s body behind him as the younger man reached around him, grabbing a piece of bacon from one of the plates he was preparing to set on the table. The simple contact made Dean shudder, the touch both innocent and intimate at the same time.

They were more than halfway through breakfast before Sam realized that Dean had not said anything about the day’s training. His curiosity now piqued, he remembered something about a surprise. Dean had been watching Sam, waiting for him to ask, “You said you had a surprise for me, what is it?”

Finishing his coffee, Dean stood gathering his dishes before setting them at the sink. “No training today, Sam. I’m going into Manhattan, I have some business to take care of. I’ll be leaving within the hour, won‘t be back until tomorrow.” Crossing his arms he leaned back against the counter, keeping his eyes on Sam the entire time.

“What am I supposed to do for the next two days?” Sam grumbled, disappointment showing on his face.

“Well, Sam, you’ve been complaining about not getting enough sleep, you could catch up on that.” his slow drawl teased. “I was hoping you’d come with me, but if there’s something else you would rather do, I can go by myself.” Dean’s smirk told Sam everything he needed to know.

While Sam was getting ready, Isaac saddled Blaze and Merlin, Dean had already spoken to him and Ruth, letting them know that he and Sam would not be back till later the following day. Sam was like a child, his excitement obvious as he packed for the trip to town.

The ride to Manhattan was uneventful, Sam’s constant chatter made it seem even quicker. It was almost noon by the time they arrived. The small town didn’t have the same bustling excitement that surrounded Abilene. It was more suited to families and those that wanted some semblance of a permanence in their lives. Rows of wooden buildings made up the main section of town along Poyntz Avenue. After the horses were settled at the livery, they made their way to the hotel to arrange lodging for the evening. There was little consolation knowing their rooms were located across the hall from one another.

The local mercantile had a small selection of knives for Sam to choose from. Dean watched as Sam carefully looked them over, handling them exactly how he had been taught. Dean was pleased with Sam’s confidence as he made his selection without consulting him, picking the same ones he would have chosen. Before leaving, Dean left a list of supplies that would be picked up by Isaac later in the week.

Their next stop was at the office of Dean’s attorney, William Jones. Contracts needed to be drawn up for the partnership of the stud, along with a some private matters Dean wanted taken care of. Dean was a little surprised when Sam asked to speak to William alone. About 20 minutes later Sam and William emerged from his office, shaking hands. William told them to stop by before leaving town, he would have all their papers ready for signatures.

The bank was similar to all the other places they had stopped that day. Introductions made, business discussed. Before leaving Dean was given the two bars of silver he had requested the last time he had been in town.

The hotel’s small dining room was busy, the fare was simple, not having the choices of their first dinner together in Abilene. After making their selections, they talked about the plans for following day. There were still a few more things that needed to be done before returning home. Once dinner was finished they made their way to the lounge where they would be able to have a drink and spend a few hours together before going to their rooms for the evening.

A few of the hotel staff were milling around the hallway when they reached the top of the stairs. Reluctantly, they each went their separate ways to their rooms. Without Sam’s presence, the room was cold and uninviting. Dean couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so lonely. The night seemed to last forever without Sam next to him.

Dean was up by first light, dressed and ready to meet Sam for breakfast. Crossing the hall he knocked waiting for Sam to answer. “Ready for breakfast, Sam?” Dean asked as Sam opened the door. The door had barely closed before Sam was pressing him back against it. Looking up Dean was again aware of how tall Sam was. He only had a moment before Sam was leaning down kissing him, hot and needy, Sam kissed him like it had been months instead of a day. Breaking the kiss, Sam’s hot mouth left a trail of kisses over his jaw before nipping at his ear. “I’m not hungry for breakfast,” Sam breathed against his ear. One thing Dean had learned was Sam’s huge appetite was not limited to food.

“Sammy, we have to go,” his voice was breathless, he could feel his heart racing, “It’ll have to wait till later.”

It took all Dean had to push Sam away, he wanted this as bad as Sam did, but he knew they couldn’t take any chances being caught. Opening the door, he decided it would be best if he waited for Sam in the dining room.

Kansas State Agricultural College was a short ride from the hotel. Dean followed as Sam talked to the students and professors. He was a little envious of how easily Sam opened up to everyone around him. Sam had an easy confidence around others, where Dean had always been guarded only letting a few people ever get close. Sam asked if they might be able to see the library and have access to the books. Once they were inside the building, surrounded by rows of books, Sam came alive.

It felt like Dean had been sitting on the steps for hours before Sam left the library with an armload of books. Smiling and laughing he said his goodbyes, with a promise of having more time next time he visited.

When they arrived at William’s office, everything had been taken care of. All they had to do was sign the papers that had been drawn up. There were only a few more stops, then they could start for home. It only took a matter of minutes for them to gather their belongings from the hotel before checking out. Their last stop was near the depot. Dean asked Sam to wait, telling him he would only be a moment. Dean was right, he was back within a few minutes. He was carrying a couple of envelopes. Reaching up he handed Sam one of them, before placing the others in his saddlebag to read later.

By the time they rode up to the ranch it was early evening. Dean left Sam at the house while he took the horses to the barn. Within the hour he was walking back to the house. It was good to be home.

************************************************************************
They had been training for a couple of hours when they heard the sound of horses. Sam jumped up running to the door, not even stopping as Dean called his name. Three men on horses rode up slowly approaching.

The oldest of the three looked at the young man before asking, “Are you Winchester?” Sam shook his head, calling out to Dean. Dean stepped from the barn, keeping his colt by his side. “I’m Dean Winchester,” he waited for the other man to speak. They were battered and bruised, but only one looked to have any serious injuries. “My name’s Joe Cooper, this is my brother Vince, “ he said indicating the wounded dark haired man before continuing “and this is Jacob Riley. We were told we could stay here for a few days.”

Dean pointed them towards the bunk house, before turning to Sam, “Get Isaac, tell Ruth we have wounded men. Wait for her, she knows what to do.” He left Sam at the barn as he made his way to the bunk house.

The wounded man had been settled into one of the bunks by the time Dean entered. The other two were trying to remove the dirty makeshift bandage covering the man’s chest. “What were you hunting?” Dean asked, the hunter taking over.

“A revenant down near Wilsey, didn’t know for sure when we went in. Vince got tore up a bit. We took care of it, burned it.” Jacob offered.

Dean relaxed a little, nothing would have followed to put them in danger. At Isaac’s knock Dean went to the door speaking to the older man. Isaac nodded, taking the horses towards the barn with him. A short time later Sam and Ruth walked in, carrying baskets of food and various supplies.

The men were grateful for the food which they hungrily devoured. Ruth tended to Vince’s wounds with Sam’s help. The gashes were nasty looking, but they didn’t sizzle when the holy water was poured into them. Dean whispered something to Ruth, then watched her hand the needle to Sam. Sam’s eyes widened as he looked up, with a nod, Sam sat down. He saw the way Sam grimaced as he pushed the needle through Vince’s skin. Ruth was waiting nearby to take over if there were any problems. Once the stitching was complete he applied a clean bandage. The worst wounds taken care of, it didn’t take long for Sam and Ruth to treat the minor injuries of the three tired hunters.

Everything finished, Sam helped Ruth collect the supplies and dishes. Dean told him he would be up to the house a little later, watching as Sam escorted Ruth back to her cabin. Vince had already fallen asleep, Jacob wasn’t far behind. Joe told him about the hunt and soon they were comparing stories of what they had hunted over the years. Before leaving, Dean told Joe to stay at the bunkhouse and get some rest, dinner would be brought to them. He left saying he would stop back in the morning.

Sam was sitting in the parlor his nose pressed in a book when Dean came in. Standing behind the overstuffed chair, “You did well today,” he said as he squeezed Sam’s shoulder. He was rewarded with a huge smile as Sam looked up placing his hand over Dean’s. Touched by the simple gesture, Dean leaned down laying a kiss atop Sam’s head.

Most of the next few days were spent with the other hunters. Joe and Jacob were friendly and enjoyed talking. They were happy to share their stories and knowledge with Sam. Dean preferred talking quietly with Vince. When Dean caught Sam watching them the younger man would quickly turn away. Four days after their arrival, the three men were anxious to be on their way. Grateful for the provisions Dean had given them, they said their goodbyes before leaving.

Sam seemed more relaxed once they were back in their normal routine. Training had resumed. Ruth and Isaac had invited him to town to attend church with them on Sunday. Dean politely declined, but encouraged Sam to go.

Sometimes it was strange, after being alone so long having someone there every time he turned around. Sure, him and his dad had been together for years, but they may as well have been alone, they hardly ever spoke outside of the hunt. They had developed a familiar pattern, senses and instinct took the place of words.

Little things had been building up. Dean knew he was to blame for most of it. He tried explaining to Sam that it would take time, he had taken care of himself for so long he didn’t know how to let anyone take care of him. More than once he had to apologize for his bad temper.

Early Sunday morning Dean watched Sam, Isaac and Ruth as they departed. He had the entire day to himself. He was looking forward to the solitude. Gathering a few things he headed to the barn. Saddling Blaze, he was soon riding over the hills, feeling freedom for the first time in weeks. Dean immediately felt guilty for the thought.

Near lunchtime, Dean stopped at one of the ponds that dotted his property. Dropping the reigns he pulled a sketch pad from his saddlebag before letting Blaze graze. Settling near the waters edge, he started to draw. He lost all track of time as his full attention was focused on his surroundings. By the time he checked his watch it was late afternoon. Reluctantly packing everything away, he climbed in the saddle before riding back to the ranch.

It was almost six when Dean heard the wagon. He stepped onto the porch waiting for them to stop. Sam climbed down reaching back to help Ruth down as well. Isaac caught Dean’s eye before turning the wagon towards the barn. Dean followed Isaac, once inside Isaac handed Dean an envelope before unhitching the horses. Tearing open the envelope, Dean quickly scanned the contents.

Sam’s laughter filled the room. He replayed the day’s events telling Dean about the people he met, the local gossip, even details of the best pie from the pot luck dinner the ladies had prepared. Some of the tension of the previous days seemed to lift. The break had been good for both of them.

Tags: au

Title: Dark Riders 7/7 COMPLETE
Authors: ForsakenBeloved
Pairings: Sam/Dean
Ratings: NC 17/adult
Warnings: Slash/Angst/Violence/ First time
Disclaimer: Don’t Belong To Us
Summary: AU Dean Winchester Bounty Hunter encounters a young English gentleman . Sam Richards, Dean shows Sam why it’s called The Wild West
Status: Complete. Posting weekly
Word Count:
A/N: A little western adventure that we hope you will enjoy. The story is complete and will be posted once a week [or you ask real nice and then we might post sooner lol] We intend to make this the first in a series of stories that follow Dean and Sams adventures.
A big thank you to Louy for the awesome banner thanks mate, you rock!
To our wonderful beta oldbatj many thanks dear for your hard work and ideas.

Chapter 1- http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/845.html
chapter 2 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/2008/01/25/
Chapter 3 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/2008/02/01/
CHAPTER 4-http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/2008/02/08/
CHAPTER 5-http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/2008/02/14/
CHAPTER 6 -http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/2008/02/14/
CHAPTER 7-



Dark Riders Chapter 7

“Go to bed, sleep on it and let me know your decision in the morning.” Had been Dean’s final words. Sam sighed as he tried to make himself comfortable on the too small bed, moving about causing the bed to creak and groan. He was so glad that they had stayed at the lake after the picnic and not taken things back to a hotel room. He cringed with embarrassment when he remembered the noise he had made. But god help him, he hadn’t been able to control himself. Nothing in his life had prepared him for such an incredible experience. His mother in her own way had tried, he felt sure of that now. At first like every parent she had sent him to or arranged parties, the summer and Christmas Ball her favorite social events of the year. Sam had gone because it pleased his parents, it was also a chance to meet old friends, however friends aside he found the whole occasion a waste of time. Most of the evening was spent trying to avoid one person or another, usually female, without seeming rude. It was after the last summer Ball that she had told Sam about meeting his father, how she was sure that there was someone special waiting for him, he only had to find them. Mom had been a hopeless romantic but with hindsight he now knew she was right.

Dean had come to mean so much in just a few days, there was no doubt in his mind, especially after what had happened today that Dean was his special someone. Why did everything always have to be so complicated? He and Dean would forever have to keep their relationship a secret. It seemed in this new world that little provocation was needed to spark what could often be a fatal confrontation.

Dean had spelled everything out, laid all his cards on the table. He had land, a home, a life he wanted to share, however there was one stipulation. Sam would have to under go rigorous training, both physical and mental. Hunting was a huge part of his life, one he could not and would not give up. Which meant if he wanted Dean, embracing the part of his life that was consumed with hunting evil would also have to become his? This was no part time job, it was a life times commitment. As Dean had pointed out evil did not take a break if it was tired or bored, so neither would he.

The revelation that Dean suspected Demon involvement in the death of his parents had come as a shock. As had the realization that, for some unknown reason he could receive glimpses of the future. Whether this “gift” worked due an emotional connection to the other person only time or more visions would tell. Sam sincerely hoped he never had another one.

That left Shamus, the only “family” he had left. There was no way he could or would abandon his life long friend and mentor. Shamus had stayed behind to take care of the horses. Sam had given him power of attorney to act on his behalf, selling his half of the business and sorting out the practicalities of shipping the horses to America.
Sam couldn’t foresee a problem with the spread Dean owned, with good grazing also plentiful water, on the face of it, it would appear ideal. Only time plus a knowledgeable eye would tell. As for the man himself Sam hadn’t a clue what he would make of Dean. No doubt there would a period of adjustment between the two men. Of that he had no doubt. Shamus would want his own home, he was not one to share. He would gladly share the land but not his house. In fact Sam had never even stepped inside the little man’s one bed roomed cottage. Shamus liked his privacy, shunning all visitors. Consequently if he were to move the stud to Dean’s land he would need his own house. That shouldn’t pose a problem Sam had more than enough money to pay for any and all building work needed.

So back to square one did he want Dean enough to totally change his life? First off all, at the moment he really didn’t have a life, living in England was not an option. It held too many memories. He’d decided with Shamus’ agreement that a fresh start for both of them could be made in America. Dean offered a home for both of them land to raise the horses and a chance of happiness with the one person Sam had ever had any feelings for. Sam was as sure as he could be that Dean was the special person he was destined to share his life with of that he had no doubt. Well it looks like I’ve reached a decision Sam thought to himself. Only one thing left to do, give Dean his decision.

****

Dean had been lying in bed staring at the ceiling for hours, it was impossible to sleep with his mind was still racing. So much had happened since his arrival in Abilene. All of it was centered around one thing, Sam Richards. His father would think it was a mistake, he couldn’t afford any distractions, distractions made the difference between living and dieing.

Dean knew he had to get back on the trail. No way he could turn his back on hunting. The hunter in him had to save as many people as he could, or at least try. Hunters were a rare breed, as long as evil was out there someone had to fight against it. From what Sam had said, the young hunter was sure that Sam or his family had been targeted by a demon. Like he told Sam before, he couldn’t live with Sam’s death on his conscience.

When Dean had received Sam’s note asking to meet at the lake, he hadn’t known what to expect that day. He sure hadn’t expected what had happened. Closing his eyes he could still remember the taste of Sam as they kissed, the feel of Sam’s well muscled body as he moved against him. He could see the trust in Sam’s eyes as he gave himself to him, his innocence, his faith. Dean had wanted Sam, and now that he had had him, he didn’t want to give him up.

He had already sacrificed so much, didn’t he deserve a little happiness? It had been so long since Dean had put his own wants and desires ahead of anyone else. He didn’t really care at the moment that he was being selfish.

He was so tired, tired of just hunting, tired of not living, tired of being alone. That’s why he had come to a decision riding back from the lake. As they ate their evening meal, he told Sam about his place. It was only a couple of hundred acres, but it was big enough for horses. Big enough to build a dream on. Sam had a dream, had a future. Maybe for once if he were lucky, he could have a future as well.

If Sam accepted his offer, he would have to be trained, to be taught about Dean’s world. Reading his father’s journal was one thing, being prepared for what was coming was something else. He didn’t sugar coat anything telling Sam what he did. It was a hard life, being gone weeks at a time living off the land. The land could be as brutal and unforgiving as what he hunted. Sam had shown himself to be of hardy stock, he had heart and inner strength. He had put himself in danger to save Dean.

Sam had listened intently to Dean‘s proposition, asking questions about hunting, about the land. Sam said he would take everything into consideration, giving him an answer in the morning. With a warm smile that accentuated his dimples, Sam excused himself and retired for the night.
Deciding to simply get out of bed to face the new day, Dean wasted no more time, shaving, washing and dressing. There were no guarantees on what Sam’s answer would be, regardless he would be ready and waiting.

The loud beating of his heart nearly drowned out the light rapping on his door. Crossing the room, his hand hesitated momentarily as he reached for the doorknob before turning it. Opening the door, looking up, the taller man’s face was unreadable. Dean released the breath he was holding, waiting.

“So, Dean…” Sam began before the huge smile appeared on his face, “When do we leave?”

AUTHORS COMMENTS So the first story of Dark Riders is now complete. We have both been totally overwhelmed by the response the story has had, we never dreamed that our little tale would be so popular.. Many, many thanks to all of you who have read and taken the time to leave a comment you guys rock!!
The second story is well under way and we hope to start posting it in a few weeks. It will pick up where Dark Riders finished and follow Sam and Dean as they start a new life together.

Tags: au, first time, nc-17, violence

Title: Dark Riders 6/7
Authors: ForsakenBeloved
Pairings: Sam/Dean
Ratings: NC 17/adult
Warnings: Slash/Angst/Violence/ First time
Disclaimer: Don’t Belong To Us
Summary: AU Dean Winchester Bounty Hunter encounters a young English gentleman . Sam Richards, Dean shows Sam why it’s called The Wild West
Status: Complete. Posting weekly
Word Count:
A/N: A little western adventure that we hope you will enjoy. The story is complete and will be posted once a week [or you ask real nice and then we might post sooner lol] We intend to make this the first in a series of stories that follow Dean and Sams adventures.
A big thank you to Louy for the awesome banner thanks mate, you rock!
To our wonderful beta oldbatj many thanks dear for your hard work and ideas.

Chapter 1- http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/845.html
chapter 2 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/2008/01/25/
Chapter 3 http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/2008/02/01/
CHAPTER 4-http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/2008/02/08/
CHAPTER 5-http://forsakenbeloved.livejournal.com/2008/02/14/
HAPPY VALENTINES DAY

Dark Riders Chapter 6

Sam checked his watch once again, if Dean had read the note he’d pushed under his door he should be here soon. The bottle of champagne he’d brought with him from England was cooling in the lake. Shamus and he were going to use it to christen the new property, but Sam had a more pressing use for it, Dutch courage. There were things he wanted to say to Dean. Things he wanted to ask, that he just knew would never make it out of his brain without the aid of the champagne.

The hastily arranged picnic was soon put together with the aid of the hotel clerk and cook. The clerk under the mistaken impression that he was meeting a business partner to show him the parcel of land that was for sale. It wouldn’t do to start any gossip connecting him and Dean, as far as everyone else was concerned they were mere acquaintances.

Merlin’s “whinny” alerted him to Dean arrival. Swallowing nervously he waited for Dean to unsaddle his horse and turn him loose to graze alongside Merlin.
His stomach clenched nervously, mouth dry, suddenly wishing he was anywhere other than here. What had seemed a great idea a few hours ago unexpectedly feeling the exact opposite? You’re just nervous, he told himself. You like Dean, he likes you, so sit back, relax, drink the wine and see what happens. Placing his boots by his saddle he looked up as Dean approached, “So you got my note?” Sam inwardly groaned course he did why else would he be here?

“Yeah never could refuse a free meal and good company, what d’you get Sam I’m starving?” He eyed the two canvas sacks with curiosity, “Hadn’t better be horse feed Sam, or you’re going for another bath in the lake.” He was pleased to notice that the blanket had been set out in the shade, even minus his long johns it was still uncomfortably hot.

“Should be fried chicken,” Sam called over his shoulder as he rolled up his pants and waded into the lake. Reaching down he retrieved the now cooled bottle of wine.

Dean watched with interest as Sam fished a bottle out of the water. “Where on earth d’you get that?”

Brought it over with me. Sorry there are no glasses, we’ll have to drink from the bottle. Holding the cork, then slowly twisting the bottle the cork popped out, landing several feet away. Quickly covering the neck of the bottle with his mouth he drank the escaping frothy liquid. After wiping the bottle on his shirt he handed it to Dean.

Tipping the bottle and taking a huge gulp had Dean spluttering and snorting, bubbles escaping his mouth and nose. Sam collapsed on the ground laughing “You’re supposed to sip it not gulp it down.”

“Thanks for the warning Sam, what is this stuff anyway?” he asked taking another cautious swig.

“Champagne, very expensive fizzy French wine. Was going to save it to christen the new stud, but knowing my luck it’d break long before then, so we might as well enjoy it.” Sam had no intention of telling Dean the real reason he’d opened it. “Come on let’s get started I’m starving, I asked the cook to pack plenty.”

“With your appetite you sure even that’s going to be enough?” Dean indicated the huge amount of food that was being removed from the two sacks. “You saying I’m fat?” Sam pulled up his shirt, sticking out his non existent stomach before patting it.

“Nah,” Dean admired Sam’s physique from his prone position, “just that there’s an awful lot of you to fill up.”

Wrapped in a cotton cloth were pieces of crisp fried chicken, cheese, fresh baked bread, jars of pickles and a covered bowl of potato salad. “Don’t think we’ll starve today Dean, dig in.”

Plates heaped high with food they lay on their sides opposite each other and set about devouring their alfresco feast. Sam making sure he consumed his fair share of the wine. He wanted to talk to Dean and without the aid of the alcohol he would lack the courage to do so. Gradually as the afternoon wore on the hot sun, food and wine relaxed them both.


****
Sam groaned lying back on the blanket patting his full stomach. “Think I’m just about done.”

“Really, cause I’m sure if I look real hard I might find a crumb or two that you may have missed.” Dean turned on his side head resting on his palm, huge grin on his face.

“Don’t think there’s any more room,” he pulled up his shirt rubbing his muscled stomach.

God, Dean groaned how could someone that beautiful, be that naïve? Dean was finding it increasingly difficult not to stare. Sam chose that moment to turn and look at him. Face suddenly serious.

“Dean?”

“Yeah.”

“You ever had feelings for someone? I mean for someone other than your parents? Well the champagne was certainly doing its job, Sam thought. His tongue was well and truly loosening up.

“No Sam I haven’t,” Dean answered honestly, wondering where this little gem had come from. “Why have you?” he returned the question, staring, oh no, he was staring at Sam again. But he couldn’t seem to help himself. Couldn’t drag his eyes away from Sam’s face

“Mum always said I would know when the right one came along. Like it was with her and dad, she said she knew instantly that he was the one. Dad used to tease her, saying she imagined it or made it up, but she hadn’t. Mum showed me her diary the one she wrote the year she met dad.” Sam felt his eyes watering slightly at the fond memory. In it she wrote. Met a charming man tonight, I am going to marry him. “She was right, twelve months later they were married, I was born two months before their first wedding anniversary. Do you think she’s right, that there is someone special out there? That all you have to do is find them?” Please say yes. Sam thought, please don’t think I’m a complete idiot. Dean was so close he could see the individual freckles sprinkled across his nose and cheek bones.

“Yes I do. I… “He noticed a small insect had landed on Sam’s hair without thinking he reached out, pulling it from sun warmed hair.
Sam grasped Dean’s hand, holding it still between his own two hands; he studied the small insect trapped between finger and thumb. Dean’s hand was shaking slightly in his.

“Sam?” His name a husky whisper on Dean’s lips.

Turning to meet the hazel eyes, he knew what Dean sought permission for “yes.”

Insect forgotten Dean lent in placing a gentle yet firm kiss to Sam’s mouth. Drawing back slightly he watched the changing expressions flit across his face. A warm hand to the back of his head drew him down, this time Sam kissed him back. Dean deepened the kiss opening his mouth, his tongue flitting across the soft lips.

Sam hadn’t known what to expect. God he wanted more, opening his mouth he invited him in, warm, wet and tasting faintly of champagne. Strong fingers wound into his hair, hands cradling his head. A warm heavy weight settled against his chest. Opening eyes he hadn’t realized had slipped closed, he dragged in a huge lungful of air. “That’s amazing,” slipped out before he could stop it.

Dean chuckled, “don’t tell me you’ve never…?” his voice trailed off as he watched Sam’s rapidly shifting gaze. Dean mentally kicked himself. He knew Sam probably hadn’t had sex with a man before, but he certainly had not expected him to be this innocent. “Sam I’m sorry I didn’t know, I…” His thumb caressed Sam’s cheek.

“Don’t be, show me how… Show me what to do.” he asked in a quiet shy voice.

“Sam how much did you drink?” one eyebrow rose as he studied him.

“The same as you, it’s not the wine talking, well not really it’s just a drop of Dutch courage.” There are things I want to say, to know, that only you can… Closing his eyes he sighed, could this be anymore embarrassing? A calloused thumb rubbed across his bottom lip.

“There’s so much I want to share with you… But only if you’re really sure Sam. He looked into blue/green eyes and saw only trust and something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “I want you to enjoy this as much as I’m going to. And the only way that’s going to happen is you tell me if anything makes you feel uncomfortable, if it does we stop. I want you to remember this for the right reasons.

Sam smiled then laughed, “Yes mum.” He cheekily replied.

Dean playfully swatted his shoulder “I’m serious Sam, you say stop at any time and I’ll stop, I don’t want to ruin this for you. Believe me, there’s a right way to do this, then there’s the wrong way, trust me there is no way it’s going to be the latter for you.”

“I know it won’t Dean, I...”

Straddling Sam’s hips he leaned in biting softly on his ear lobe whispering “shush Sammy.” Before kissing along the edge of his jaw, then slowly down his neck. Sucking and nipping at the racing pulse he bit harder at the juncture of neck and shoulder, “Too hard?”

Sam groaned “No, it’s good.”

Buttons were swiftly undone revealing a hard muscled torso, Sam blushed, helping remove their shirts. “I…I never Th… thought anyone w…would want me.” His embarrassed, stuttered omission.

“God Sam you’re beautiful, how you could ever think otherwise?” He wondered who or what had given the kid such a low opinion of himself.

Acknowledging the growing bulge in his pants. “If the tightness in my pants is any indication you must know I want you” he grinned. Looking down Sam could feel his own twitching arousal tight against Dean’s ass, knowing the other man would be aware of it also he blushed. As if reading his thoughts Dean’s eyes met his as he ground his ass into his lap. Pushing Sam back he trailed his calloused fingers over the sculptured muscles, lips followed seeking and capturing a small nipple. It hardened instantly, catching it between his teeth he tugged gently before finding its twin. Kissing and licking his way down the flat abdomen. Reaching the waistband his fingers slid down to lightly squeeze Sam through the material. Chuckling when Sam gasped and pushed into his hand. Belt, then buttons undone, he eased Sam’s pants off, then stood to remove his own. Hearing a small gasp he turned, Sam’s eyes were riveted to his cock. Dean quirked an eyebrow. “You’re not so small yourself Sam.”
Dean’s body was all muscle from broad shoulders to tapered hip, but that wasn’t what caught his eye. By no means small himself, Dean was bigger. Laying down Dean pulled Sam onto him, running his fingers through the silky hair then holding his head. Seeing the nervousness reflected in Sam’s eyes. “Sam you are the only person I have wanted to make love with, yes I’ve have had sex with men before, hot sweaty, needy sex, but that was all it was. Nothing more than a release. With you it is different; I feel more, want more than a few stolen moments. I know you’re nervous but I will, make it good for you.”

Looking into the deep green eyes Sam believed him, trusted him completely. “I know you will, Show me, please?”

With a deep groan Dean rolled them, till he was once more lying on top. Sam automatically opened his legs to make room for him. Sam your beautiful and I’m going to show you by KISSING, he kissed Sam’s left nipple , EVERY, each he kissed the other nipple, SINGLE, he kissed his belly, INCH he kissed his navel, OF YOU. Moving lower deliberately avoiding Sam’s erection, he sucked at his hip, scraping his teeth over the bone as he moved to repeat his action on the other side this time biting slightly harder, before laying his tongue over the marks his teeth had left. Finally he turned his attention to Sam’s cock, firmly licking from base to tip in one slick stripe. Sam moaned thrusting his hips up.

“S’ok Sam I’ve got you. Just relax, let go, enjoy it.”

Taking Sam into his mouth he watched as Sam’s head was thrown back, neck arching, tendons standing out, Christ he was beautiful. Running the fingers of one hand between Sam’s legs, he dragged his nails over the skin behind his balls, eliciting a moan and shudder. Dean knew Sam wouldn’t last long the first time. Holding the velvet sack he gently felt and rolled his balls. Sucking harder now he felt Sam’s balls draw up and his cock become impossibly hard. A large hand grabbed at his head, accompanied by mumbled “Dean no I’m gonna…”

“S’ok Sam I know what I’m doing,” he held Sam’s hand as he erupted filling Dean’s mouth. He swallowed, riding out the orgasm, finally letting the too sensitive cock slip from his mouth.

Sam had never experienced anything as good as the sensation of Dean’s hot wet mouth engulfing him. The intense need to push up into Dean irresistible. Only the heavy weight of an arm across his hips preventing him from doing so. Instead of pulling off as he had expected, when he’d warned him, Dean had instead taken his hand reassured him and accepted Sam’s release. Never had he achieved at his own hand the intensity of the orgasm Dean had wrung from him.

Opening heavy eyelids to see a smiling Dean watching him. “That was, um…”

“Amazing?” Dean finished for him.
Sam knew his too expressive face must be revealing what he was feeling.
“Yeah, it was. Thank you for showing me, I mean I had no idea it could…”

“Feel so good?” Dean supplied lazily stroking Sam’s thigh. “That’s only the beginning, what comes next is even better.”

“You mean there’s more?” Sam sounded unconvinced.

“Yes my innocent little Englishman.” He teased.

At Sam’s look of disbelief he explained. “What we just did and what comes next is like comparing a mule to Merlin.” Dean held his breath and waited. He hoped Sam would choose to take things further.

“Then you’d better show me.” Sam replied without a moments hesitation.

“Sam?” Dean’s suddenly seriously tone caught his attention. “Do you have any idea what two men do together?”

At his honest reply of “no.” Dean mentally stumbled. He could, take the time to explain that A went into B. That if he was really careful and Sam was prepared and relaxed, it wouldn’t hurt, but would in fact feel real good for both of them. Or he could just show him, hoping Sam would trust him. Quickly deciding on the latter, because how was he to describe it to Sam without it sounding sordid. Reaching into his saddlebag beside the blanket he removed a small bottle of oil. Some snake oil salesman had sold it to him with the promise that it would cure almost any ailment. Dean hadn’t been taken in, but he did buy the oil, needing something to work stiff and sore muscles that wouldn’t burn his skin or leave him smelling like a skunk

“Ok Sam, do you trust me?

Sam replied with a sleepy “yes.”

Bending forward he kissed the muscled stomach, moving leisurely down until he was between his legs. Pouring a small amount of oil in his hand he coated several fingers liberally. Sliding his fingers behind Sam’s balls and slowly rubbing his fingers over the small hole. Sam jumped. Ok! A distraction was called for. Taking the spent cock once more in his mouth, he was not surprised when it quickly responded to his ministrations. Circling the small hole he gently pushed past the too tight ring of muscle, stopping at Sam’s startled “Dean?”

“It’s alright Sam I know it feels strange, trust me, in a few minutes it’s going to feel wonderful.” Taking Sam’s silence as consent he continued pushing in. God he was tight. Too tight. He could feel Sam’s muscles gripping him. “Sam I need you to relax, otherwise it could become uncomfortable.” He advised. Returning his attention to the still growing cock. Yep. Definitely going to need some distraction. Squeezing the hardening shaft, he began to search inside for that sensitive spot that he knew would drive Sam wild. Well, he hoped it would.

Sam’s cry of “Dean!” assured him that he’d found what he was looking for. Carefully working his finger in and out for a while he decided it was time to add another, getting in about half way before Sam clamped down on his fingers. He then relaxed enough that he could push in, finding the small bump again. Moaning head rolling from side to side Sam was obviously enjoying himself. While sufficiently occupied Dean carefully stretched him open. Pulling out, he once more found the small bottle pouring some of the oil generously over his aching cock. Now all he needed was Sam in the right position. Face to face was awkward and would definitely hurt. On his stomach would probably be most comfortable for Sam, but he wouldn’t be able to hold him. He settled for on his side curled behind him.

“Sammy, need you to listen to me this is where it’s going to get real good for both of us. However that’s only going to happen if you relax ok? At Sam’s nodded reply he positioned the head of his aching leaking cock against the small opening. Sam I want you to push out, it should make it easier for me to get in.

“Not fingers?” Sam asked anxiously.

“No Sammy, much better than fingers, promise.”

“Ok.”

Pushing in gently as Sam pushed out, made for easier access. At Sam’s quick indrawn breath Dean knew that it had still hurt. He stopped pushing and instead reached round and rubbed slow circles on his belly. “Deep breaths Sammy, try to relax its going to feel so good in a short while I swear.” Feeling the tightness lessen slightly he slowly slid all the way in. Sam groaned clutching Dean’s hand tightly. “All done Sam, I’m in, give yourself a little time to adjust then it won’t hurt anymore.” Freeing his hand he grasped Sam’s now limp cock and stroked rhythmically. The lessening of pressure and growing size of Sam’s cock indicated to Dean that it was safe for him to move. God he had never experienced anything so tight, pulling out slightly he adjusted his angle so as to rub over the very sensitive bump inside. Head thrown back, back arching, Sam screamed. “Told you it’d be good Sammy,” he huskily whispered into Sam’s ear. Picking up the pace knowing he was not going to last very long this time, he none the less made sure to rub over the sensitive spot as often as he could. Given that Sam was writhing against him like an eel and screaming his head off. A few more thrusts had him exploding at the same time as Sam. His own scream of ecstasy joining Sam’s. He clung to Sam as his breathing gradually slowed, kissing his shoulders and neck, while whispering nonsense words against his skin. Feeling his cock begin to soften he carefully withdrew himself. Then he pulled Sam into his arms tucking his head into his chest. “Sam you alright?” Hearing no reply he tilted Sam’s head back, he was out cold. Grinning he ruffled the brown mop, tucking him tighter against his side. Kissing the top of his head, he fell into a light sleep.

Tags: au, first time, nc-17, violence
Current Mood: happy