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

The morning passed quickly. Dean didn’t realize how much time it took to make arrangements to get back home. The next train for Manhattan wasn’t until tomorrow morning. He wired ahead to have a wagon available to carry Sam’s trunks and other belongs to his small ranch. He was still a little surprised that Sam had accepted his offer.

Sam had been excited about Dean’s description of the place, saying it was perfect, having everything they needed to raise horses. It was about 15 miles from Manhattan Kansas in the Flint Hills, rolling hills, tall grass prairie, with it’s own water source. He had watched as the young Englishman sketched plans, making notes of what they would need for their home.

Dean had bought the ranch a little over a year ago, never having made it into much of a home. It was more a place where he recovered from various injuries. That was how he came to own it in the first place. A nasty tangle with a would be horse thief had left him with a bullet in his shoulder. The widow Etta Pierce found him after Blaze carried his unconscious body onto her land. She had taken him in tending to his injuries. After healing from the gun shot wound, he stayed another three months to help out. When she told of her plans to sell and return east, he made her an offer.

With the central location he thought he could make it a stopping off place, allowing other hunters a safe haven. There was the main house, a bunk house, a barn, several small out buildings and two small cabins, one of which was currently occupied by the couple Dean hired on to take care of the property while he was away.

Home, the word was foreign to Dean. He hadn’t really had a home since he was a child, barely remembering what it was like. He and his father never stayed in one place long enough to settle down. Always following the next hunt. There was almost something reverent about the way Sam said the word, it was like faith and hope. The look in Sam’s eyes when he spoke of his, the pain still obvious, made Dean want to give him this even more.

After being attacked by the vampire, Dean had made it clear to Sam that he would be trained whether he agreed to hunt or not. The young Englishman was an excellent horseman, that was one less thing to worry about. Sam was also familiar with hunting, rifles and shotguns were not a problem, but pistols were another thing. Surprisingly, Sam told Dean he was an accomplished pugilist, having learned at underground matches while he was away at university. It would take time before Sam was ready, but he had shown himself to be a quick study.

Sam would be occupied most of the afternoon, so they had agreed to meet at the Alamo Saloon once he had completed his business. Dean made his way to the Marshall’s office, there he could find out if any suspicious deaths had been reported. He listened intently while leafing through a stack of wanted posters. Pulling a few posters for small bounties he then left making his way around town to try and catch any gossip that might lead to a new hunt.

Finally, Dean made his way to the saloon. There had been nothing to indicate anything other than trouble of the human kind. He was looking forward to spending the rest of the evening with Sam. Since the lake they had only managed a few moments of privacy, constantly being interrupted. Their only contact had been a few lingering touches as fingertips barely brushed against one another.

Standing at the bar Dean ordered a beer waiting Sam’s arrival. The young hunter was having his second beer, when a loud crash behind him caused him to turn. Yells of cheat and thief were hurled at a shifty looking gambler. Within minutes the entire saloon had erupted into a huge brawl. Trying to move out of the way, Dean found himself ducking a flying bottle. He turned again only to find a huge fist coming his way. Easily sidestepping the blow, he felt someone move behind him.

Dean struck out trying to connect with the tall figure. As he spun around he realized Sam was the man behind him. Sam’s lightning quick movement prevented the punch from landing, causing Dean to stumble. Dean felt the younger man grab his elbow steadying him. Giving Sam a huge smile, Dean let him drag him towards the door.

“Come on Dean, we need to get out of here,” he heard Sam say as they stepped out into the warm evening air.

As they were walking back to the hotel, Dean pulled Sam into a small recess between two buildings. Pushing him into the wall, Dean reached up tangling his fingers in Sam’s hair as he pulled the taller man’s head down their lips met in a bruising kiss. As he deepened the kiss, the whole sky lit up when lightning flashed illuminating the area. Huge raindrops splashed down on the town, the summer storm quickly soaking both men.

Sam came to his senses first, pushing away, telling Dean they couldn’t stay there, they couldn’t afford to get caught like that. With a frustrated growl, Dean stepped back, his hand still on Sam’s chest. He could feel Sam’s heart racing through his wet shirt matching the beats to his own heart. Slowly he released him knowing what he said was the truth.

They quickly walked back to the hotel. Each going to their rooms, they said goodnight. Tomorrow would be a long day as the made their way home.

***********************************************************
Sam’s day sped past in a blur of activity. Packing his belongings took longer than he had thought possible. A telegram was sent to Shamus in England asking him to arrange to ship some of the breeding stock to America. There was already a potential buyer for the estate and it was possible he would buy the surplus breeding stock.

He wrote a letter explaining in greater detail how he had found someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Sam despised deceit, it would never work if the new partnership was based on a foundation of lies. Shamus deserved the truth. Better to be honest now thereby giving Shamus the chance to back out if he wished to. So taking a huge leap of faith he told his oldest friend about Dean. He spelled out their hopes and dreams for the future, his decision to move the stud to Kansas and finally, his dearest wish for his old friend and partner to join him in the new venture. He re-read the letter several time before finally tucking it into the envelope.

After passing the letter to the hotel clerk to be posted, Sam closed his eyes and said a silent prayer that he had made the right decision. That the years spent in the little man’s company would count for more than who Sam spent his nights in bed with If they were to live in close harmony Sam could not and would not hide his growing love for Dean, not even for Shamus.

Stomach rumbling he checked the gold hunter no wonder he was hungry he’d missed lunch entirely. Taking a seat in the dining room he placed an order for ham, eggs, plus coffee. Leaning back in the dining room chair whilst sipping coffee he reflected on this morning’s conversation with Dean.

Having wasted no time after reaching his decision, he had rushed to Dean’s room knocking on the door. Even though Dean had been expecting him, Sam thought he looked nervous. He’d stood in the doorway staring at Sam for the longest moment, before remembering his manners and inviting him in. As Sam stepped into the room he thanked him and said “yes.”

Seating himself on a chair by the window eyes following his friend as he paced the room. He watched an obviously agitated and nervous Dean run his hands through his hair before rubbing one hand over his face. Suddenly Dean launched into what had obviously been a well rehearsed speech. Explaining how he knew he was asking a lot because they had only just met and they didn’t really know each other that well, but could Sam look past that small obstacle since he really wanted Sam to go with him. How if Sam thought very carefully about his proposition he was sure Sam, Shamus along with the horses could make a new home with him. It was when his animated hands were caught and held that he stopped the rapid pacing

An indulgent smile on his face Sam asked “Dean have you listened to a word I’ve said since you let me in?” He gazed into the beautiful green eyes.

“What?” Dean frowned in confusion.

“I said, have you listened to a word I’ve said since you let me in?” Sam patiently asked pushing Dean back till his legs hit the side of the bed and he sat down.


“But you haven’t said anything Sam,”

“Yeah Dean, I have. I’ve said YES five times, well six including that last one.” Crouching down in front of an obviously still confused Dean he waited for his words to sink in. With a snort of breath he said “I thought bounty hunters were supposed to be smart, must have been mistaken,” he chuckled poking Dean in the chest.

The penny having finally dropped Dean leapt to his feet grabbing Sam, hugging him tightly. His face buried in the long soft hair hanging down Sam’s neck. His moist warm breath against his skin. Pulling back he reached up both hands to hold Sam’s face. “Sam you have to be sure, there’s no going back. I couldn’t stand to lose…”

“Dean I made my mind up about you at the lake. YOU are the only one I have, or ever will desire. I want to make a new home, a new life with you. Even if it means I have to learn to kick your butt once in a while.”

Dean snorted “You kick my butt? In your dreams Sammy boy.”

Sam’s face had taken on an amused expression as he held his fists up in his favorite boxing stance. He’d turned sideways on to Dean’s left side leading, feet shoulder width apart, elbows close to his side, knees and hips slightly bent, forearms held protectively in front of his torso, fists loosely clenched palms towards his face at cheek level. He knew he looked good. “I was all weights champion two years running at university.” Leaning forward to close Dean’s sagging jaw “and I learned to fight dirty.”

The arrival of his meal ended his amusing thoughts. Finishing his late lunch, he walked across the street to the Alamo Saloon to meet Dean as they had arranged. Pushing through the swinging doors it looked like he had got there just as a fight had broken out. Locating Dean he wasted no time slipping through the other patrons, arriving in time to grab Dean’s arm and drag him towards the door. “Come on Dean we’re leaving.”

As they were walking back to the hotel instead of going in the main entrance Dean pulled him into the recess between the hotel and the shop next door. Finding himself pushed up against the wall, Dean pulled his head down to kiss him. Suddenly he found himself hungry once more, but this time not for food. He could taste the beers Dean had just drunk, but overriding all else was Dean’s unique taste and smell. God he wanted him.

The sudden crash of thunder and flash of bright light through closed eye lids, accompanied by torrential rain brought him back to his senses. Pushing Dean away “We can’t afford to get caught like this. Come on lets go before we’re soaked."
************************************************************************

There was only so much to do on a train, Dean didn’t know what was worse, being confined to such a limited space or being bored. He had already made several trips to check on Blaze just for something to do. After several hours, Sam was more than content to pass the time reading, making plans and conversing with other passengers.

Dean was anxious about their next stop. They would have a nearly three hour delay before switching trains for the night. Unfortunately a northern rail system from Abilene to Manhattan hadn’t been incorporated yet, making them backtrack east. The nearest junction to Manhattan was located in Lawrence. The young hunter usually made it a point to avoid the town altogether.

Looking around as they pulled into the Lawrence station, Dean noticed how much the town had grown since he had last been there. With a scream of metal wheels against the iron rails the train finally came to a stop. Grabbing his saddlebags he waited for Sam to get his satchel, they then made their way to the exit.

Stepping onto the platform Dean let out the breath he had been holding, hoping Sam was not aware of his discomfort. Walking past the station, the two men headed down the street looking for the nearest place to have dinner before spotting a small café.

The café was rather busy with several other passengers from the train and some locals. The two men drew several glances as they made their way to a small table where their order was taken quickly. Waiting for their meal, Sam showed Dean several sketches he had done earlier, excitedly sharing his plans. Smiling and listening intently, Dean tried not to quell the younger man’s enthusiasm.

Dean had managed to give Sam his full attention at dinner, lost in a world of just the two of them. Now as they made their way back to the station his mind wandered. Once they arrived Dean checked the time. Looking at Sam, Dean told him to wait here, there was something he needed to do. Assuring Sam he would be back within the hour, he turned and left the building.

The young hunter walked the length of the main street, before crossing over near the old church. Climbing the small hill, Dean passed through the gates of the old cemetery. A warm summer breeze filled the early evening air. Passing several rows he finally came to a stop. Looking down he found what he was looking for. Two small headstones lying next to one another. His mother and brother, side by side.

Dean tensed as Sam approached placing a hand on his shoulder , but seconds later he leaned back into the taller man, gaining strength from the warmth of the momentary contact. Stepping back Sam gave Dean the time he needed. Leaning down Dean whispered a few words before reaching out and touching each of the headstones. A few minutes passed before he stood. Turning he gave Sam a sad smile, then the two men fell in step returning to the station.

The increased activity in the rail yard indicated their upcoming departure. Both men made their way to the holding pen, each taking their horse settling them into the stalls of the livestock car. Once the horses had been taken care of, they made their way back to the passenger car.

A loud whistle cut through the air signaling their departure, then the screech of wheels, before the train lurched forward. As night deepened around them a couple of young porters entered the car. After the women were all escorted to the forward car, the seats were dropped converting to sleeping berths. Each area was curtained off providing a semblance of privacy.

Dean watched Sam waiting for him to look up. When green eyes met hazel, Dean saw the same desire reflected back like a mirror. With a slight nod of his head Sam slipped behind the curtain for the night. Standing for a moment, Dean walked down the aisle exiting the car. He quietly made his way back to the livestock car, checking both horses as he let the night air cool his hot blood.

Early morning sunlight filtered in through the thin curtains. Dean had fallen asleep to the constant rhythmic cadence of the train’s motion. Pulling the curtains he stepped from the berth. Stretching out he laughed thinking about Sam’s tall form still cramped into the small space. Checking his watch, he noted they would have one more stop before reaching Manhattan.

The closer they got to their destination, the more Sam talked. Asking question after question. Dean wondered how some one could have so much to say. Finally, the train pulled into the Manhattan station. Within an hour the hired wagon had been loaded with Sam’s belongings, the horses were saddled and their trip home was about to begin.

Keeping the horses at a comfortable pace, they would be home within three hours. Dean took the time to point out different areas, watching as Sam drank in everything around him. Cresting the top of the last hill, they looked down on the small ranch, they were home.

*********************************************************
As the train journey had progressed Sam’s excitement had grown, he was full of nervous energy. Like Dean he had been to check on the horses several time, then made polite conversation with the other passengers. Dean on the other hand had seemed more and more distracted and distant the further they traveled. He’d seen that closed off expression once before, truth be told it worried him. He tried to engage Dean’s attention with the plans he was drawing up for the new stud, but was only partially successful. Dean’s attention frequently wandering to the landscape beyond the window. Lost in his thoughts.

Sam was worried, was Dean having second thoughts? Was he regretting his hasty offer of a life together? He felt warm fingers brush against his hand, his stomach tightening involuntarily. “Sam we’ll be stopping in Lawrence soon. It’s going to take a couple of hours for the next train to get here. We’ll unload the horses and your baggage then get something to eat. Knowing your bottomless pit of a stomach you must be hungry.”

The small eatery had been clean and friendly, thankfully the portions had also been Sam sized. Over the shared meal he sensed some of the tension leaving Dean. So it came as a bit of a surprise when they arrived back at the station, only for Dean to take off. Following Dean was easy, he seemed totally distracted, not his normal self. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Dean, he was just worried. His worry was justified when he silently came upon Dean moments later. He was staring oh so forlornly at two grave stones.

Approaching quietly Dean still heard or sensed him, moving to stand behind him he placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, taking Dean’s weight as he leant his back against him. At that moment all Sam had wanted to do was wrap his arms around Dean to hold him. But to do so might expose him to ridicule and scorn, not something either one of them needed. so instead he took a step back, waiting, watching, finally understanding.

The overnight sleeper was pure torment, for several reasons. Firstly Dean was sleeping mere inches from him. Secondly Sam was convinced the so called bed was an instrument of torture. He was reminded of a story his mother used to read him of a girl who slept on a bed with a pea under the mattress. Now Sam was no princess and he was sure there were no peas in the bed but nothing would shake his conviction that there were rocks in the bed. Big, sharp, pointed rocks. He was just drifting off when the porter announced that they would be pulling into the station in a few minutes.

When they had finally reached Manhattan a wagon was already hitched and waiting for them at the livery. Collecting Blaze and Merlin plus the luggage they started the final stage of their journey home.

The scenery soon changed from the dusty town to rolling grass covered hills. Small wind blown stunted trees dotted the trail. Gradually small wild flowers in every imaginable colour began to make an appearance between the blades of grass. Sam was totally surprised when Dean not only knew the common names for the wild flowers but their Latin ones as well. His surprise must have shown, because Dean instantly clammed up. It took some serious cajoling for Dean to once more open up and tell Sam how he knew so much about the local wildlife. It turned out that the former owner of the farm Etta Pierce had been a botanist. She had lovingly drawn and cataloged the wild flowers and grasses on the prairie. As he’d recuperated from the wound to his shoulder Etta had capitalized on her captive audience. At first it was boredom that had driven him to look through the beautiful collection of drawings. Gradually curiosity and a genuine interest in the local wildlife had found Dean accompanying Etta on her hunt for new specimens. And she in turn had found a willing and apt pupil, not only learning to recognize the various plants but developing a unique talent for water color painting. Etta had insisted on framing some of his paintings and hanging them on the walls of her home.

Finally Dean announced that their home was in the next valley, Sam craned his neck to see over the brow of the hill eager for the first glimpse of his new home. Words did not often fail him but on this occasion they did. Beautiful, stunning, spectacular all felt inadequate when he thought of describing the scene before him. A pale blue weathered wooden single story ranch house nestled amidst every conceivable color of wild flower imaginable. Scattered among the grasses and flowers were the other buildings a barn a couple of small cabins and a corral. It was quite simply breathtaking. Sam doubted he could find a more picturesque setting for a home if he searched a lifetime.

Isaac and Ruth came out to greet them, Ruth informing them that the house was aired the beds made up and the kitchen well stocked. Isaac had helped them unload the luggage before insisting that he be allowed to take care of the horses and the wagon.
Sam had stood uncertainly looking up at the wide porch. It had taken Dean’s whispered “if you’re waiting for me to carry you over the threshold you can forget it,” to get him moving.

Sam followed Dean up the porch steps, into the kitchen, surprisingly it was not to dissimilar to his mothers kitchen. It had a cooking range, several dressers with crockery, and a large scrubbed table and chairs. The walls were hung with cooking pots and pans plus several small paintings. An inner hall led to a light sunny parlor with a huge stone fire place, redundant at this time of year but in winter it would make this room warm and cozy. Several comfortable looking chairs were arranged round a low table with playing cards a sketch pad of paper and a beautiful cut glass oil lamp. Under the window was another small table with a large vase of wild flowers. A large watercolor caught Sam’s attention, it was a landscape painting of the valley, the detail so fine and precise it was like looking out through one of the windows.

Dean’s warm muscular body pressed against his back, arms snaking round his middle. The warm breath against the back of his neck, sending a shiver of anticipation down his spine.

“God I’ve wanted to do this ever since we left the lake” the words a husky groan against his ear. Eager hands were pulling the shirt from his pants, a warm wet tongue and teeth doing interesting things to his ear.

A loud knocking on the porch door accompanied by Isaac’s “Mister Winchester?” had them both jumping apart like a couple of kids with their hands caught in the cookie jar. “Dammit! I thought I’d at least get some peace in my own home.” Dean muttered as he stomped off to see Isaac. Sam couldn’t help sniggering as he called after him, “Take your time Dean, I’m going to wash and clean up a bit.”

The first room he came to was obviously supposed to be his room, all the trunks had been placed just inside the door. He almost sighed with relief when he caught sight of the large bed; whoever had used this room last had also been tall. Finding a large jug of water, wash cloths and a bowl he set about removing his dirty clothes and washing the dust from his body. When after a while Dean still had not returned he drew back the quilt and sheet making himself comfortable in the well sprung bed while he waited. And while he waited he nodded off.

**************************************************************
Isaac and Ruth were there to greet them when they rode up to the house. Dean had remembered his manners and properly introduced them to Sam. The house had been prepared for Dean’s return, the beds made, the kitchen stocked. Everything had been unloaded and placed in Sam’s room to be unpacked. Isaac had taken the horses while Ruth said her goodbyes, then made her way back to their cabin.

Dean pressed into Sam his arm wrapping around the younger man pulling him close, breathing in his scent. “God I’ve wanted to do this ever since we left the lake” he growled against Sam’s ear. His hands reached for Sam’s shirt.

Isaac’s knock on the door brought them back to reality. Dean grumbled as he turned to see what Isaac needed. Sam called after him to take his time. Dean could see the exhaustion in Sam’s face. The lack of sleep on the too small train berth and the 3 hour ride to the ranch had taken it’s toll. Dean and Isaac walked down to his cabin to get a full report on everything since he left almost three weeks ago.

By the time Dean returned to the ranch house it was dark. He made his way down the hallway, pausing outside Sam’s door raising his hand to knock. Changing his mind he turned the knob and entered the darkened room. He certainly wasn’t expecting the sight before him, Sam asleep in his bed. Pale moonlight filtering through the windows illuminated Sam’s skin, giving it a soft glow. A linen sheet covered him to the waist. He looked almost angelic.

Dean stood mesmerized as he admired the broad shoulders, the strong arms, the flat stomach. He watched as Sam’s bare chest moved with his even breaths, his lips parted ever so slightly as he exhaled. Reaching down Dean brushed Sam’s too long hair out of his eyes, his fingers lingering, tracing their way down to his lips. He wanted nothing more than to cover those soft lips with his own, to claim him again like he had at the lake, to make him his.

With a deep sigh Dean moved around the bed to the other side. Sitting he removed his boots, then quietly undressed before slipping beneath the sheet. The sounds of the hot summer night lulled him asleep.

The dream was so vivid, he felt a strong arm wrapping around his waist, pulling him back against a hard body, warm breath against his neck. His name being whispered in his ear. Suddenly Dean realized it wasn’t a dream, Sam was pressed hot and hard against him.

Sam watched as the realization crossed Dean’s face, saw the fluttering of his long lashes as he slowly opened his eyes. He watched as full pouting lips curved up into a smile. Sam dropped his mouth to the nape of Dean’s neck kissing the warm flesh before moving to the spot where neck meets collarbone. He bit down lightly before asking, “Too hard?” At the slight shake of Dean’s head, Sam continued trailing scorching kisses up his neck, biting a little harder. He stopped at Dean’s earlobe, tracing his warm tongue along his ear.

Sam smiled at Dean’s gasp as he again bit into the soft flesh of his lobe, before whispering, “Oh my little American, you still have so much to teach me,” he teased as Dean shuddered against the warm breath.

Sam rolled Dean from his side to his back, then his mouth was crashing into Dean’s. Ravishing the full lips, demanding entrance into the warm cavern. Coming up for breath Sam bit into Dean’s lower lip, tugging gently with his teeth.

They were so close, noses almost touching. Sam could see the freckles that covered the sun-kissed skin, the kiss swollen lips, but it was the burning desire in smoldering green eyes that set Sam’s blood on fire.

Sam’s fingers ghosted over Dean’s skin, memorizing old scars and smooth flesh. His mouth followed the path of his fingertips, searing kisses stopping to worship the bronzed skin that writhed beneath him. He could feel Dean’s hardness as he arched into him, could hear the soft moans that escaped Dean’s lips.

Opening his eyes, Dean looked up into Sam’s face. He could see the hesitation in Sam’s gaze. Rolling back over, he reached down for his pants, grabbing the small bottle of oil he had placed in his pocket earlier. Opening the bottle he poured a liberal amount in his hands before rubbing them together.

Turning back to face Sam, Dean had the sudden urge to have Sam touching him. Covering Sam’s hand with his own, he wrapped it around his cock, slicking the hard shaft with each stroke. Pulling his hand away he moved it down to Sam’s entrance. Slowly he worked a slick finger into the tight hole, letting Sam adjust before adding another, stretching him as he went.

Pushing Sam to his back, Dean covered his body spreading Sam open beneath him. He pressed his throbbing cock into the tight entrance, waiting momentarily as Sam caught his breath. With a nod Dean pushed further into the heat of Sam’s body until he was fully inside. He started moving, slow deep thrusts as Sam wrapped his legs around him before finding a steady rhythm.

Sam reached between their bodies needing more friction for his own aching hardness. Stroking his now leaking cock it didn’t take long before Sam was arching into Dean, calling his name. With his head thrown back he shuddered as his orgasm moved through him, spilling over between them.

Dean held his arms so tight Sam knew he would be bruised tomorrow, but he didn’t care as the sensation of Dean moving inside him was pure bliss. Dragging the older man closer Sam gripped his hips, pulling him in even deeper. Dean felt his body tense, knowing he was so far gone he couldn’t stop if he wanted too. Wave after wave of pleasure surged through him as he came.

Withdrawing, Dean collapsed against Sam. He could feel both their hearts pounding wildly in their chests. “God Sammy…,” his voice deep and throaty started before a huge hand grabbed his neck drawing him down for another kiss. The urgency no longer there, the kiss was slow and sweet.

Turning until they lay side by side, their bodies sweat slick and spent, Sam smiled as he said, “That was amazing.”

Tags: angst, horror, nc-17, wincest