Just a Matter of Time

Fandom: Supernatural/X-Files

Category/Rated: NC-17 slash

Year/Length: 2007/~39,927 words

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Alex Krycek

Spoilers: Not in this part. Later there may be vague spoilers to 'In My Time Of Dying'

Disclaimer: Dean belongs to Erik Kripke and Alex belongs to 1013 Productions. We make no money.

Summary: He raised his weapon and fired just as the creature hurled itself at him, knocking him back into the strange panel he'd found. Dean slid to the floor, moaning in pain. His eyes fluttered as everything faded from white to black.

Beta: lorelei633, who is very patient indeed and devoted much time to this classic.

Dean Winchester looked down the massive hole while thoughts of Alice in Wonderland flashed through his mind. It appeared to be some underground cave of sorts, although it was hard to tell just how big it was. Dean hadn't expected to find anything like this in Texas, but he was the first to admit that he wasn't a geologist. His brother walked up to the edge and stood beside him, his boots sending a shower of dirt and pebbles down through the opening.

"That's a long way down there, Dean," Sam Winchester commented as he gazed down into the darkness. He shook his head and handed Dean the coil of rope.

Dean gave Sam's back a little push. Sam stumbled backward, wheeling around. "Friggin' jerk!"

"Bitch!" The response was instant and comfortable. "Guess it's my turn to go down the hole. Don't drop me." Dean took the rope, tying it tightly around his waist before handing the other end to Sam. He flashed a confident grin at his brother before lowering himself down over the edge as Sam slowly played out the rope. It seemed like forever until Dean's feet touched the ground. Once he reached the bottom, Dean reached into his jacket for his flashlight and turned it on. "There looks to be tunnels down here," he called up to Sam. "I'm gonna take a look around."

Stepping forward, Dean stopped to examine what looked like an oil stain on the cave's hard packed dirt floor. He crouched down, frowning at it, then dismissed it as nothing important and moved on.

Sam stayed above at the ready, looking about nervously, keeping a watchful eye on the road. It was nighttime, but the full moon was shining down on them like a spotlight. Their activities would be plainly visible to any passing motorists, including the local cops. He crouched down, hoping to look more like a wild animal than some tall lanky guy poking around where he shouldn't be. "Dean?" Sam called down in a hoarse whisper.

Dean ignored his brother, walking deeper into the tunnel, marking his way with the white chalk which he'd taken from his pocket. Suddenly, he stopped, thinking he'd heard a noise behind him. He wheeled around, shining the light around, trying to find the source. Seeing nothing, he kept on exploring. He moved a few feet farther down the tunnel before the beam from his flashlight passed over something reflective. Drawing nearer, Dean could see that, the whatever it was, it was made of metal. It appeared to be a panel with curious symbols etched into it. He tipped his head to one side and frowned. "What the hell?" he breathed as he leaned closer to get a look at the markings on it.

Suddenly, Dean was struck from behind. He grunted as his shoulder slammed into the panel, bringing it to life as he twisted around and pulled his gun from the back of his jeans. Disoriented, his eyes searched the dark frantically, looking for whatever attacked him. When he finally caught a glimpse of it, his eyes widened in shock. He'd never seen anything like the creature looming over him. He stared up into huge black eyes as he raised his gun. Just as he was about to squeeze the trigger, the thing attacked him again, knocking his hand away. The gun went off, clattering to the ground as the creature struck him on the shoulder, making him cry out in pain. The blow threw Dean back against the stone, momentarily stunning him. Dean shook his head, trying to focus his vision as he scrambled after his gun.

He raised his weapon and fired just as the creature hurled itself at him, knocking him back into the strange panel he'd found. Dean slid to the floor, moaning in pain. His eyes fluttered as everything faded from white to black.

Mystic Seaport 1995

His father was dead, and here he was, as usual, having to clean up the mess. Fox Mulder didn't like Martha's Vineyard. He never had, since his parents divorced and his father moved here. To Mulder the place spoke of broken promises and faded dreams.

He shook himself and looked at the chaos that surrounded him. He was slowly picking his way through his father's papers in the hopes of learning something, anything, but it seemed that someone - probably Krycek, he thought to himself with a growl - had been there before him. There was nothing left except for bills and old papers, nothing of any importance., If there was anything else, he hadn't found it yet.

He cursed, sweeping everything off the desk onto the floor. This was getting him nowhere, and it was giving him a headache besides. He surveyed the mess with a disgusted look. He needed to get out of here and clear his head. Grabbing a jacket, he headed out to take a walk and hopefully blow the cobwebs away.

The air was crisp, autumnal, and the leaves were lying thick in a soggy blanket over the ground. Mulder jogged along the pathway between the trees, inhaling deeply and looking around himself appreciatively. When he spotted what he thought was a pile of clothing lying in a dip in the ground, he almost didn't stop, but his curiosity won out and he wheeled around to examine it.

It moved.

The ground was wet and cold. Dean could feel the sunlight on his face, and the smell of grass, dirt and leaves filled his nostrils. Green eyes blinked, and he groaned as he tried to roll over. His head was pounding, his body ached. What had happened to him?

He rolled onto his side and saw a figure making its way towards him. Spitting grass from his mouth, he let out a croak. "Who are you? Where am I?"

Suddenly he realized that where he was, was the least of his problems. A chill ran down his spine as he found himself wondering who he was.

The ragged pile of clothing had suddenly become a young man, and Mulder started back for a moment. "I didn't think that people actually said that in real life," he said with a wry smile. "Are you okay? What happened to you?"

Mulder studied the man as he slowly rolled over and sat up, wincing. "You look cold. How the heck did you get here? This is private property. We don't get many strangers passing through."

Mulder offered the other man a hand, noting that the newcomer was shivering. "Maybe you'd like to come back to my place to get warm. You could call someone to pick you up. Your folks must be worried about you, unless you've escaped from someplace. You didn't, did you?"

Dean was cold, and there was blood all over him. Only some of it was his own, but who the rest belonged to was a mystery. He slowly got to his feet and stood, clutching his head. "Boy, good thing you found me, dude, or I would have never known how cold I really was." He winced as he moved his arm, stopping to inspect the bracelet that he wore. It was strange, with beads of bone carved into skulls and little faces.

He gave the stranger a wary glance. "Does it look like I'm wearing a hug-me suit?" He scrubbed at the blood on his face and turned to look around, nearly falling over in the process. He stumbled a little, trying to catch his balance, "I..." He turned his head to Mulder. "I can't remember..."

"Whoa!" Mulder caught the young man as he reeled, steadying him. The kid's clothes were damp and grass-stained, but he himself was relatively clean. He didn't look or smell like a vagrant. The kid needed a shave, but then so did he. It was becoming clear to Mulder that this was no drifter looking for easy pickings and a warm place to sleep in one of the empty summer homes. He took a breath and made up his mind.

"You'd better come back to the house with me and get warm and dry. Wouldn't be neighborly of me to let you freeze to death out here. My name's Fox, but you can call me Mulder. And you are…?"

"You gotta be kidding me? Fox? Man, your parents must've had it in for you." Dean rubbed his arm and thought for a moment. He frowned as he started patting himself down, looking for a wallet or something else that could tell him who he was. "I don't know," he answered, feeling rather small and very worried.

He produced the wallet at last, opening it up to look for a driver's license. He glanced at Mulder, "It says Dean Winchester." There was a slightly lost look upon his face as he spoke his own name. "Dude, I can't remember who I am." He started walking, still looking through the wallet and saw a picture of a young man and then another of a man and two boys. Something inside Dean kicked in, but he didn't let his companion see it.

"Yeah, you got that right about the name. I go by Mulder. Don't use the Fox if I can help it." Mulder took the license from his companion's hand and checked it out, studying the photograph and comparing it to the man walking at his side. "Yep, that's you all right," he said, handing it back. "It says here you're from Kansas. Well, Toto, you're not in Kansas any more. This is Massachusetts - Martha's Vineyard to be specific."

He studied Dean, eyes widening as he saw there was no apparent recognition on the other man's face. "Were you on vacation here, or something?"

Dean blinked at Mulder and then gave a shrug. "I don't know." He tucked the wallet back in his pocket and continued his search. A swift hunt through the rest of his pockets proved fruitless; all he found was a pocketknife. Dean pulled it out, turning it over a few times before slipping it back.

"Look, I don't know how I got here, or where I'm from. I don't have a clue what I would be doing on Martha's Vineyard. All I know is that I feel like I've been beat to hell. I've got blood on me. I think it's mine but I can't even be sure of that." He opened his brown leather jacket and looked down at his chest. The front of his shirt was in ribbons, as if something had scratched him. "My head hurts, my back hurts, hell, everything hurts. And the worst of it is that I don't even know who the hell Dean Winchester is."

Mulder said nothing further, but he began to lead the confused young man back to the house, thinking that perhaps a cup of coffee or some hot soup was called for. It wasn't far, and at length he led Dean up the steps and in through the back door into his father's kitchen. The house was warm, and the scent of something savory cooking in the oven made his mouth water.

The petite redhead, clad in jeans and a checked shirt, turned to look at them from where she was standing balanced atop a ladder, peering into the recesses of a cupboard. "Mulder, there are cans in here that date back to the Revolution. I recommend that you throw them out, unless you plan on poisoning someone." She stepped down and wiped her hands on her jeans as she saw Dean enter the room behind him. "Hello?" she said. "Come to help?"

"Well, that depends on what you need help with..." Dean's flirtatious charm came through despite the memory loss. He shook his head. "Goldilocks here found me laying face down on the ground. I can't seem to remember a thing." He sighed as he gave her a bewildered look and moved over to take a seat at the kitchen table. He suddenly looked like a lost little boy as he gazed at the pair.

Scully frowned. "My name's Dana," she murmured, holding out her hand. "Come and have coffee, while we try and decide what to do." She cast an eye over at Mulder and raised her eyebrows. "Do you suppose Dr. Werber could help him?" Turning back to Dean, she grinned as she poured the coffee and offered him a cup. "Dr. Werber is a hypnotherapist. He helped Mulder a lot when he lost his memory for a while."

Dean took the woman's hand, giving it a shake before accepting the cup and drinking. "Hypnotherapist? That really works?" Dean raised his eyebrows at the two of them. He didn't put too much faith in that stuff, but he wasn't in a position to be choosy. "You think I could take a shower? Get cleaned up a little?" he asked and smiled gratefully as Mulder nodded his assent.

He took a sip of his coffee and stood up, leaning on the table for support. "You two live here together?"

"No!" Mulder and Scully spoke at the same time, then looked at one another, flustered.

"He's my partner," said Scully.

"Work partner, that is," added Mulder.

"We work together." Scully gave Mulder a smirk. "In the F.B.I.. This is Mulder's father's house. He died recently. I'm helping Mulder go through it and get it ready for sale."

Dean's green eyes shifted between the two, and he gave a nod, "Oooo-kay," he said slowly as if he didn't believe them. He took another sip of his coffee and frowned, suddenly filled with a strange sense of dread. He shifted uncomfortably. "Sorry about your dad," he said softly.

"Yeah, me too," said Mulder, a little ungraciously. "I guess you can shower now." The bathroom wasn't somewhere Mulder ever wanted to re-visit. Even now, he could still see his father lying there, bleeding on the floor, the light in his eyes slowly dying. "Scully, can you show him...?" He gave Scully a puppy-dog look, and she rose to her feet. "Sure, Mulder, because I obviously am the servant you always wanted."

Casting a smile at Dean, she beckoned him. "Come this way. I'll show you where everything is."

Dean stared at the pair for a moment, especially Mulder, almost as if he knew that look. In his mind he could see another face instead of Mulder's, a sweet little face with moles and puppy dog eyes, until, with a blink, it was gone. Turning to follow Scully up into the bathroom he stood frowning.

"His dad died in this house, didn't he?" Dean stripped his jacket off, tossing it on the floor. His eyes met Scully's in mute inquiry.

"Yes." Scully nodded, her eyes solemn. "He was shot in the head. He died in Mulder's arms. Mulder's never gotten over it."

For a moment, she looked as if she were going to say something else, but then she shook herself, giving Dean a polite smile. "See, towels in here, soap and shampoo right there. Enjoy your shower. I'll see if I can find something of Mulder's for you to wear while we launder your clothes, okay?"

Dean nodded and grinned at Scully as he pulled his outer shirt off. "I'll toss my clothes out, if you like, so you don't have to blush the color of your hair." He winked at her then, as she left, he closed the door to finish undressing.

"I'm a doctor," called Scully, tartly. "If you have anything I haven't seen before, I'll take a photo of it and write it up for the Journal, gathering up Dean's clothing when he opened the door to toss them out.

Inside the bathroom, Dean took a long shower. He winced as the hot water sluiced over the scratches on his chest. He wished he could remember how he got them. Soon, though, he just closed his eyes, sighing as the hot water cascaded over him, easing the pain of sore, cramped muscles.

It wasn't long before he was out, towel about his waist. He didn't see any clothing left outside the door, so he ventured out and started down the stairs, pausing to examine a few of the photos that lined the staircase.

"Ah, there you are." Mulder had come to the foot of the stairs and now stood looking up at Dean. "I found some clothes that should fit you well enough. They're in the guest bedroom, second door on the left. Once you're ready, come on down and we'll have dinner. Scully's been cooking, and it doesn't smell as bad as usual."

He yelped as a saucepan lid hit him, evidently tossed by the much maligned Scully. Gesturing at Dean, Mulder turned to go and defend himself. "See you in a few minutes," he called as he went.

Dean turned back around and headed into the bedroom to get dressed. A few minutes later he padded downstairs and into the kitchen, rolling up the sleeves on his shirt. Whatever was for dinner, it smelled good, and he was starting to feel more like himself. "Boy that smells incredible." He leaned over Scully's shoulder, inspecting the meal she'd cooked.

"I'm starving," he murmured. "For some reason I get the feeling it's been a long time since I had a home-cooked meal." He sat down at the table in the seat that Mulder indicated for him.

"Chicken stew with potatoes," said Scully, pride ringing in her voice. "I'm trying to convince Mulder that there is life outside of the greasy spoon diners he frequents." She smiled at Dean as she ladled out a good helping of the food, passing him the dish and a spoon and fork. "Maybe Mulder will want some too, after he sees that it doesn't poison you."

"Scully, you know I've always loved you, don't you?" Mulder was grinning at his partner, his face contorting in an attempt to appear contrite. "And I'm starving, so don't be cruel."

Dean had grabbed the bowl with a nod of thanks, and was now digging away at it. "Home cooking is the best. My mom used to make sure me and dad always..." He was suddenly silent as he carried on eating, trying desperately to figure out what he had just said. Was it really a memory?

He ate quickly, using the food to keep from saying anything else except, "Greasy spoons have their place, but you can't live on that alone."

"The cholesterol will harden your arteries just reading the menu," agreed Scully, smirking at her partner, who didn't say a word, wisely digging into his own plateful of stew. "So how did you get here?" she asked Dean, at length. "You can't remember anything? What's the last thing that you do remember?"

She cast a glance at Mulder. "We could try to find out where he came from. We know his name, and that's a place to start."

"I... I don't know, I just woke up on the ground, cold and sore." Dean took another bite of stew as he glanced at Mulder, "My I.D. says I'm from Kansas, but I don't think clicking my heels is gonna get me home. Plus I really don't look good in pumps."

"Oh, I don't know." Mulder's lower lip pushed out as he considered Dean. "You'd look kinda cute in ruby red slippers," he said, smirking.

"I'm sure you just happen to have a pair in your closet," Dean had finished his plateful, nearly licking it clean, and he sat back with a contented sigh.

The meal was over soon enough, and Scully watched Mulder closely as he put all the dishes into the dishwasher. "You should probably stay here tonight," she said, concentrating on supervising her partner. "It's too late to do much 'til morning, and it's Sunday too. Dr. Werber will be in his office tomorrow. We'll call him in the morning and ask if he'll see you."

Dean turned to look at Mulder as if to see if it was okay with him, since the house belonged to him, but then a thought occurred to him, and he turned back to Scully. "Will you read me a bedtime story?" He smiled brightly at her as he got to his feet and crossed over to the couch. "I can sleep here, if that's okay with you."

He flopped down, comfortably sprawling, ankles crossed and arms folded at the back of his head as he smirked.

"Sure, if you don't want a bed," murmured Mulder, nodding. "We can find you a blanket and a pillow, and Scully here will tell you all kinds of stories. She's really good at the nursery rhymes. Get her to sing the one about the four and twenty blackbirds for you. I always get a kick out of that one."

Scully made a face at Mulder, then turned and smiled at Dean. "Ignore him. He's reached his second childhood already. Besides, his favorite is actually Humpty Dumpty."

Dean got up again, his face alight with appreciation. "Bed? I actually get to sleep in a bed?" He closed the distance between them until he was beside Scully. "I'll listen to anything you say," he murmured, smiling down at her. "Just lead the way." Placing a hand at the small of her back, he followed her as she headed for the stairs.

"Did I say thanks for all this? I really do appreciate it," Dean offered from the top of the stairs. He stopped at the room that she'd indicated would be his and frowned as he gazed down the hall. Pushing open the door, he went in and crossed to sit upon the bed, glancing up to Scully, "You ever... I got this funny feeling in the pit of my stomach and I can't explain why."

Pausing in the doorway, she frowned, looking at him. "What do you mean, like some sort of premonition?" she asked him. "Perhaps you don't feel great because of what's happened to you. Maybe I should check you over, just in case. You could be injured. People don't lose their memory for no apparent reason. Amnesia is a lot more difficult to get than popular novelists seem to think."

Mulder had followed them up the stairs, and now he gave Dean a grin. "She's allowed to check you over, you know. She actually is a doctor." Turning to Scully, he considered. "Might not be a bad idea, either. He had blood on him, and given the circumstances, we should make sure that he's actually not going to die on us during the night. This place has enough bad karma without that."

Dean looked up at Scully like a lost little kid, feeling stupid, but somehow needing reassurance. "I do have these on my chest." Dean lifted his shirt up, exposing deep scratches that were still oozing, and he shifted his gaze back to her. Pulling his shirt off over his head, he looked even more worried at Mulder's words. "I can't die." He shook his head. "I have to…" He fell silent, suddenly unsure what it was that he had to do.

"I don't understand," said Scully. "What do you mean, you can't die?" She peered at the scratches, lips pursed. "Those look like claw marks. From a cougar, maybe, or some other large animal. I don't think that there are any of those on the island though." Her face cleared. "I should probably dress these. They look as though they're getting infected."

"Neat amulet you have there," murmured Mulder, lounging against the wall as he watched the other two talk. "It looks Egyptian."

Dean looked down, touching the scratches, and then shifted his eyes back to the redhead. "I don't know what it was. I can't remember. I just know it hurts." He sighed, glancing up at Mulder and fingering the amulet that hung around his neck., "I guess. If you say so." He let it fall. "I really need to find out who I am."

Scully moved. "I'll just go and get my things," she said.

"You aren't gonna hurt me are you?" Dean looked up.

"Only if you ask nicely," she said, smirking. She turned and headed back to one of the other bedrooms, returning a moment later with a plastic container from which she pulled ointment and dressings. "Come on, let me take a look at you. We'll dress those in a jiffy."

Suiting her words to her actions, she inspected the wounds narrowly. They were deep gouges, and looked painful. She smeared antiseptic onto them, covered them with a dressing and taped it down to his skin. "Good job you don't have a hairy chest," she grinned. "It's always fun getting the dressing off again when that happens."

Dean had been a good little patient, even assisting her by handing her things as she required them. Once the dressing was on, he peered at it then got to his feet. "Thanks," he said to her as she left the room, and then began to get ready for bed.

Crawling into the bed, Dean curled up as he stared out the window. He suddenly felt lonely and more than lost. He pulled the other pillow to him, hugging it till he was able to fall asleep. When he did, his dreams were strange and rather disturbing, full of things he didn't want to see, full of spirits and people with yellow glowing eyes.

He rolled onto his stomach, slid his hand under the pillow, and he tossed restlessly for most of the night. Waking in the morning, he felt like the little rest he got hadn't done him any good at all. He got up and dressed, then washed up and headed downstairs. Mulder and Scully weren't up yet, so he made some coffee and then wandered out onto the back porch, sitting down to stare out at the countryside.

The leaves were turning from green to gold and red, and as he watched, the breeze brought a handful tumbling down to dance at his feet, finally coming to rest in the grass, temporarily spent. To one side of the house stood the trees, birches and pines, crowding against the edge of the yard. Something moved in the thick undergrowth, something that Dean might not have seen if he hadn't been following the path of a single, brightly colored leaf, blown by the wind towards the thicket of brush.

Dean set the coffee cup down, his head tipping to one side as he got up. He started to head over and then realized that he was looking at someone's boot, a boot that had to be attached to a person. Did they know Mulder? Or Scully? And what the hell were they doing lurking around at this hour of the morning? He was puzzled, and he certainly wasn't going to find out unless he asked.

"You plan on playing in the brush, or you gonna come out. Because if you are staying in there, I'm sure Mulder wouldn't mind you pulling a few weeds. Hell you could even trim the hedge."

"You mind keeping it down? If I actually wanted Mulder to know I was here, I'd be dancing a tango on his lawn." The voice was husky, silken words spoken sarcastically as the person hiding away slid further back into the shadows. "You're not a Fed, are you? Mulder doesn't know any real people."

Dean caught a flicker of movement as whoever it was ghosted back behind a clump of Douglas firs, but the man himself remained just beyond his line of sight.

He frowned, "Then why are you here?" he asked, crossing his arms. "No, I'm not a Fed, but I sure as hell will yell loud enough to get their attention, if you don't start answering my questions." Dean moved in closer, smiling at the thought that most people in this situation would probably step away.

"You don't know what you're messing with, kid. Take my advice and stay away from Mulder. You'll only end up getting tangled up in something you'd rather not, if you stick around." There was the click of a safety being released. The voice, more insistent now, said, "Stay back. Believe me, you won't like what'll happen if you don't. Why don't you just forget about hunting for ghosts and aliens with the dynamic duo in there and go home to your girlfriend. I bet she's really cute."

Dean stopped at the sound of the click. His heart seemed to stop beating, and he held his breath. Glancing back at the edge of the house, he frowned, staring at the area the voice was coming from, "Ghosts? Aliens? What the hell?" He shook his head, "They said they were F.B.I., not some..." Dean's voice trailed away. "I..." He shook his head, "I don't know if I have a girlfriend." He peered into the brush, then looked at the house again and wondered what he'd got himself into. He could feel a chill run down his spine and decided that now might be the time to leave this confusing situation behind him. "I don't even know who I am. Where I am. Just point me toward town."

"You really don't know what you've gotten yourself into, do you?" There was a hint of amusement in the husky voice. "Well, take my advice, kid. Put some distance between yourself and them, and the sooner the better." Dean heard the soft click again, as if the mysterious visitor had decided he was harmless. "You really want to get out of here?" he paused. "If you do, and I recommend it for your continued good health, I can give you a ride back to town. Where you from, kid?"

Dean stopped, looking back, "My license says Kansas. Lawrence, Kansas. So unless you want to drive me there, to town would be fine." He started walking once again, hands shoved deep in the brown leather jacket that he'd draped over his shoulders. "Why do I get stuck with the freaks?" he muttered.

The man who had been addressing him finally emerged from the shadows. Dean saw a man whose relaxed, casual demeanor concealed a coiled-spring readiness for anything. He was clad in jeans, t-shirt and black leather biker's jacket, and the gleam in his eyes was feral, that of a man who would do whatever it took, and smile while he did it. "Perhaps it's you," he said, with a smirk. "Maybe you're a freak magnet. Have you thought of that?"

"I wouldn't know," Dean mumbled, looking up at the man from under his lashes. "I think I should go to a hospital. I can't remember anything. I woke up in a ditch or something and that guy found me." He felt like a lost little puppy with no place to go. He didn't know who he was, and now he had no one to turn to, either. He'd thought the F.B.I. couple would help him, but even though they'd been kind to him, it had just been suggested to him that the two he'd stayed with the previous night had misrepresented themselves to him. He sighed.

"Listen, dude. If you'll just take me to town and drop me off, I'll be out of everyone's hair."

"You got Blue Cross?" The man gave Dean a sideways glance, assessing his battered leather and worn jeans. "Maybe you're an eccentric millionaire, going amongst the peasants for a bit of a change." He gave a small chuckle. "Gotta tell you though, man, you don't really look flush to me." He turned, beckoning to Dean to follow him. "My car's along this way, if you're serious about leaving Cheech and Chong to it." The man started to walk without checking whether or not Dean was following. "Let's go."

Dean hesitated a moment, wondering if he should trust this man. The look in his eyes was dangerous, but it seemed that he was, like the others, willing to help him. Dean glanced back at the house one last time before following the newcomer, "Hey, um... my name is Dean Winchester." He caught up to the man, walking beside him, "What is your name, or shall I just call you leather boy?" he gave a quick smile.

"You can call me Alex." The words were said with a slight half-smile, and the man slowed his pace a little to match Dean's. "Okay, let's go. I'll tell you what this is all about, once we're off the Mulder land."

Part 2 - Curiouser and Curiouser"

Alex led them both along the path to a small stream that was crossed over by a little wooden bridge, and shortly after that they came upon the road. The black car that was parked at one side obviously belonged to Alex. He led Dean to it and unlocked the doors. "Hop in then!"

"Alex," Dean repeated the name as he followed the man to the car, climbing in on the passenger side. As the man called Alex pulled away from the side of the road and left the Mulder property behind, Dean wondered if the two would notice he was gone or even care that he had. Shifting his attention back to Alex, he decided that he'd been in the dark for long enough. "Okay, so what IS going on? What did I wake up to? They seemed pretty nice to me. I liked Dana better than Mulder, although I get the sense he's just a smartass. He was nice enough to me."

"Smartass? Yeah, you could say that about Mulder. He's certainly a smartass. I feel sorry for that poor little girl he's got following him about, because bad things happen to people that hang around Mulder." Alex had started the car and now he turned it around and they set off away from the house where Dean had spent the night. "He's obsessed, and slightly crazy. He believes in aliens, and the entire world hasn't been enough to convince him that he's wrong. Trust me; I used to be his partner."

They drove in silence for a moment or two, then Alex turned to Dean again. "So how did you get into the picture? You weren't there yesterday. Visiting from out of town? You don't seem like the usual freaks that Mulder calls his friends."

"Aliens? I think he has been watching too many B-Flicks if you ask me." Dean sank down in the seat a little, feeling like this was the wrong car to be in. "Like I said before, I woke up in a ditch or something. I had no idea where I was, and he was jogging by. He took me back to his place, because I couldn't remember anything. I had to look at my damn driver's license to find out my own name. So no. That partner of his was nice to me though. She cooked me dinner and took care of my wounds. She said it looked like they were starting to get infected."

"Why were you watching him? Because of his father? He was killed from what I understand, in the bathroom."

"It's my job to watch him." Alex flashed Dean a grin. "The F.B.I. pays me to keep an eye on him. He's a loose cannon, but he's aligned himself with some major players. They can't just get rid of him without an excuse, so they've got him under surveillance." He smiled at Dean and nodded. "Dana Scully was assigned to watch him before I was, but she seems to be under the influence now. He's pretty charismatic. People fall under his spell when he wants to be charming."

The car ate up the road, and soon they were at Vineyard Haven, waiting for the ferry to take them back to the mainland. "You want to call anyone? There's time before the ferry leaves."

Dean was frowning then shook his head, "Who the hell would I call? Doesn't anyone listen to me? I have no memory! I can't tell you where I live. I can't even tell you if I'm really Dean Winchester. I don't fucking know, okay!" Dean pushed open the door and got out, walking away from it as he felt that terrible gnawing in his stomach again.

Dean felt more lost than ever. He felt incredibly alone even though he knew that he wasn't. He shoved his hands deep in his pockets and looked down at his shoes, noting the ripped jeans and the shirt that was hanging loose.

"Hey." Alex had followed him, and now he put his arm around him, turning Dean towards him. "Hey, buddy, you're in a bit of a fix, aren't you?" He shook Dean slightly. "Guess I'd better not turn you loose 'til you've got somewhere to go. We can certainly take a look through the computers to see if we can find anything about you. Dean Winchester, did you say?" Alex smiled. "Come on with me. We'll get back to the mainland, then hit my motel room and see if there's anything we can do to get you home. What d'you say?"

Dean almost shrugged the man's arm off him, but for some reason the comfort felt good, as if he hadn't had any in a long while. He sighed softly before looking at his companion. "Yeah, Dean Winchester, like the rifle. I only have this driver's license." He turned and walked with Alex back to the car. "I don't even know if anyone's looking for me." He pulled open the passenger door and paused a moment before getting in, suddenly craving the coffee he'd left on Mulder's porch. "Can we stop and get some coffee? Oh, and I want to say thank you, for helping. In case I forget later," he gave a smile at the little joke he'd made.

"Got it," said Alex, giving Dean a sly punch to his shoulder. "And yeah, coffee. Good idea. I can tell we're gonna get on."

The ferry began taking cars on for the short trip back to the mainland at that moment, and Alex hopped back into the car to drive it on board. They didn't have long to wait before the ferry put out from the dock and began to chug across the strait towards the port. Alex climbed out of the car, returning a few minutes later with two large paper cups full of coffee. "Hope you like it black," he said. "They only had that powdered stuff. No cream."

They sipped in silence for a moment, and then Alex raised an eyebrow at Dean. "I can start by running a trace on your driver's license. That'd be a good start."

Dean took the coffee, taking a drink and leaning upon the rail. "Perfect," he answered, "Thanks." He gazed out at the water then turned to face Alex. "Okay, I guess that's a good start." He looked Alex over, "Why aren't you Mulder's partner any more? Is it because he likes the little red head's legs better?"

"He discovered that I'd been sent to watch him and report back to the powers that be." said Alex, lowering his eyelashes over bright green eyes. "He never did believe it about Scully, but he certainly did about me. Guess you're right about the legs, although mine aren't that bad." He laughed. "To tell the truth, he's an arrogant, self obsessed asshole, and I don't miss working with him at all."

"I don't get it. Why are they wasting their time having you guys keep an eye on him if he's looking for something that doesn't exist? I mean, why don't they just close it down if they think it's such a waste of money?" Dean took another drink of his coffee then turned to look out at the water and watch the island recede behind the little ferry. "I swear, I don't get people."

"People are mostly suckers," said Alex, lowering his lashes again. "All you have to do is spot their weak spot and then play to it." He lifted an eyebrow and smirked at Dean. "You've got the looks. You'd be good at conning the marks. All you've got to do is be hot and look sincere, and you've got it made. Stick with your uncle Alex, man, and I'll teach you."

Dean looked sideways at Alex, noting how his lashes closed thickly over those pretty eyes. "Is that what you are doing with me? Playing me?" He turned to face Alex. "You think I could just flash my smile and watch them fall?" He took a sip of his coffee. "Well Uncle Alex, I have nowhere to go, so I have little choice." He shivered a little then looked at his rescuer. "You think the dynamic duo will miss me? Because I didn't leave bread crumbs or a note."

"Well, they're sure to notice that you're gone, aren't they?" Alex studied Dean, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. "And no, I'm not playing you at the moment. You don't seem to me to be worth playing, although if you want me to, I'd be happy to oblige." He gave Dean a long, appraising look. "I wonder if you can play pool. We could go have a game - maybe run a con on a few yokels later."

Dean shifted, feeling a little uneasy. "Dude, what if I'm not the kind of guy who likes to run a con? You assume a lot and doing that can get you into trouble." He smiled faintly. "But I'm game. What the hell. Who knows, I might be that type of person." He leaned his back against the railing.

"We'll find out then, won't we?" Alex punched his shoulder again. "Might as well take a chance. There're always opportunities around, but you won't find them out unless you try."

The ferry was docking, and the two of them returned to the car to drive off onto the shore.

Dean sat in the passenger seat, finishing off his coffee as the scenery passed him by. Somehow he had the feeling he'd made the wrong choice. Not because of who he was with but... just a gut feeling. As if he should be somewhere else. At the motel, Dean followed the man into the room. He looked around, but nothing seemed unusual. If anything he thought that there was too little stuff in the room, and it was obvious to Dean that Alex was merely passing through.

"Jeez, dude. I can tell you live alone."

He flopped down in a chair and stretched his legs. "Little too early for pool or hustling, so what shall we do till then?" He scratched at the bandages upon his chest.

"Alone is right," said Alex, with a smirk. "Best way to be, when you want to get ahead." Alex prowled around, checking the room, looking into the bathroom, pulling back the shower curtain and investigating inside the closet before relaxing and coming back to sit on the bed. "Let's check your license. We might as well try and trace your identity for you - try to fill in some of the blanks."

As Dean passed the license across to him, Alex frowned. "I don't know what you're trying to pull here, but this isn't going to fly. This license was issued in 1996."

Dean frowned and moved along to sit by Alex as he took the license from him, "So what is the problem with that?" He paled as he suddenly realized he had no idea what year it was. "It says here I was born in 1980. January 24th. So what is the big deal?" His look to Alex was one of pure innocence as he pulled his wallet out and started searching it, keeping the photos of the other men hidden as he pulled out a credit card. "Whose is this? And this one too," he produced another with a different name.

At first, Alex smirked as he turned the cards over in his hand, but then he began to frown. "According to this, you're only fifteen years old, and buddy, you don't look fifteen to me, and that's quite apart from the fact that this is 1995, so there's something very weird about your ID. Maybe your forger ate too many magic mushrooms or something."

Dean frowned, taking the card before slipping it back inside and started searching his wallet again. He handed Alex over tickets to a Rolling Stones concert, "Look at these. And there are receipts in here too." He handed them over to Alex, pointing out the dates. "Why would I have the wrong dates on those if this is only 1995?"

"Jesus, Dean!" Alex studied the tickets he'd been handed. "According to this, you saw the Rolling Stones in 2002. I don't see how that's even possible." He shook his head. "This is some sort of test, isn't it? You're messing with me, I bet." Laughing, he handed the tickets back to Dean. "Maybe Mulder's not so nuts after all. Maybe you're a visitor from the future - either that or I'm going crazy."

He picked up the phone and dialed a number. "I hate to do this on an unsecured line, but as far as I know, nobody knows I'm here, so here goes." There was a pause, and then Alex spoke in a foreign language, softly pouring liquid syllables into the phone. Then just as suddenly, he returned to English. "Yeah. Dean Winchester, Lawrence, Kansas. Born January 24th, 1980."

Dean stuffed the items back in his wallet before returning it to his back pocket. He frowned as he wondered what was up. Was he losing his mind? Well, it was a little late for that; he seemed to have lost part of it already. As the man spoke, Dean leaned his elbows on his knees, watching. Who was he calling? Were they someone he could trust? And would they help him or lock him up? This situation was starting to look as crazy as he felt.

"They'll call me back," murmured Alex at length as he hung up the phone and settled back on the bed. "I've asked them to trace your ID and get back to me as soon as possible. They're usually pretty quick, but it might mean that we have to take a trip over to Boston to the office so that I can get any files that they send over." Alex had thrown his leather jacket off and now lay back, hands behind his head, his tight, white T-shirt clinging to sculpted muscles. His hair flopped down over his eyebrows, making him look much younger than he was. "I love a good mystery, don't you?"

He beamed a smile over to Dean. "So we give them a half hour or so, and then go look for food, what do you say?" A thought suddenly occurred to him. "Hey, do you have any change in your pockets? What date is on the coins?"

Dean stood up, searching his pockets for some change, pulling out a knife, some lint, a bag of peanut M & Ms, a match book, and some pennies, a couple of quarters and a dime. "Here, I have this, will that help?" He asked in dumping them into Alex's waiting hands before he sat back down again.

Laying the coins out on the table, it soon became obvious that all but one of the quarters had been minted after 1995. "Weird, Dean. Very weird. You would seem to be from the future. Too bad you can't remember anything. We could clean up, betting on the Superbowl and stuff, couldn't we?" He turned to Dean, handing him back the coins. "You sure you don't remember anything about the Superbowl?"

Dean thought a moment, his fingers going over the quarters. Was he from the future? How did he get here if he was? "Hum... New England Patriots win Superbowl 36, 37 and 39," he looked at the man. "That I remember. Oh and the Boston White Sox win the World Series, I think." He gives a shrug. Dean gathered up his things to dump back in his pocket. "I'm hungry, how about you? Can we get something to eat?"

"They're gonna call back in a few minutes, you know. We should be here 'til then. Give them a little while longer." Alex had just finished speaking when the phone shrilled beside him. Scrambling to pick it up, he grabbed a pen and started to write on the pad beside the phone. "Yeah, got it," he murmured at length. "Thanks."

Putting the phone down, Alex rose to his feet. "Okay, man of mystery. Let's head for the greasy spoon, and I'll fill you in on the story so far."

Dean pushed to his feet, getting his jacket and shrugging into it. For some reason he liked having it on, as if it wrapped him in some sort of comfort. He headed out back to Alex's car and once inside and buckled in, turned to Alex. "Okay so what did they say? I'm full of shit and my eyes should really be brown?"

"How did you guess?" Alex chuckled as he looked over at his companion. "Would be a shame if they were. You've got nice eyes." He started the engine and they pulled away from the motel. "In brief, there's a Dean Winchester of that birth date, and I got chapter and verse on him. They're going to send photographs of the family to the office, so once we eat, we can go into Boston and grab them - see whether this kid is you or not."

Frowning, Alex hit the blacktop and pointed the car towards the nearest roadside diner. "Good job I broke you out of Mulder's clutches, buddy. He lives for stuff like this. You'd wind up being one of his X-Files and in the F.B.I. computer. I don't recommend that."

Dean frowned, wondering what the hell was going on. Damn, but he wished he could remember. Alex might think it was fun, but for Dean it felt like he was walking in a fog, catching glimpse of things he couldn't remember. "Well he didn't take too much interest in helping me. Not like his partner did. I think he was scared I would get into her pants before he could." Dean sighed again. "He didn't even notice the driver's license. You think he would, being an F.B.I. agent and all."

"Yeah, that is strange. Mulder's a weird one - he's got an eidetic memory, so if he looked at your license at all, he'll remember it, and with him you never know when he's going to pop in and gum up the works. You're better out of there." Alex cast another glance at Dean, then reached to lay a hand on his arm and squeeze it reassuringly. "Bet this all feels like science fiction, doesn't it? It seems pretty damned strange to me too, and I haven't lost my memory. All I can suggest is that we go take a look at the stuff my office is faxing to me, and then lay out a plan of action once we know the worst... or the best. What do you say?"

Dean glanced down at his arm and the hand upon him. Slowly he looked up and gave a nod, "Okay, for what little choice I have. But for some reason I feel like I'm in the freakin' Twilight Zone or something. And I mean, what if all this is true, and I am from the future, how am I gonna get back? It's bad enough I don't remember. I feel like I'm being fucked sideways."

"We'll deal with that when we get to it." Alex gave Dean's arm another squeeze. "All you can do is deal with what's on the table right now. If there are new things added to the mix, we'll take those as we find them, okay? That's all we can do." Pulling into the parking lot of a diner that advertised an "all day breakfast," Alex parked and turned to Dean. "Things'll work out for you. They always do in the end. It'll be okay, you'll see."

Dean looked up at Alex, looking like a lost little kid. "I guess." He climbed out then smiled, "Cool, more coffee, eggs and pancakes. I think I'll be in grease heaven." He walked in, and instantly that charm of his had them at a booth with fresh coffee in front of them. He was busy checking out the menu when he suddenly looked up at Alex, "What if those two decide to come in here? Is it safe for me to be seen with you, seeing as you were hiding in the bushes. Unless you were a peeping-tom and were trying to get a look at the redhead."

"They won't. They'll be there for at least another couple of days. I took the spark plugs out of Mulder's car rental. By the time he gets a new set, we'll be down in Boston at the very least." Alex snickered behind his hand as he let Dean in on what he'd done. "And the redhead is cute, but... I don't actually go that way."

Dean nodded as he set the menu down. "Really? So you were either peeking in on Mulder or me then. Hope you didn't miss the towel action I had going on. The little redhead had a nice blush to match her hair, and the lug didn't seem to like it." He smirked. "Oh," he spoke to the waitress who made her appearance, "Eggs, scrambled, bacon, and some waffles. Oh and coffee, black, will be sweet, thanks." He smiled up at her before shifting his eyes to Alex. "Your go."

"Eggs, sunny side up, toast, bacon and sausage." Alex gave the waitress a wink and a smile and returned his gaze to Dean. "Mulder and me - we go way back. Scully? Well, she's cute enough, but she's a cold bitch. Just put her down in a morgue with a couple of cadavers to autopsy, and she's your friend for life. Me, I like my girlfriends a little less hard core."

The coffee arrived, and Alex gave Dean a measuring look. "Okay, we eat, and then we head to Boston. Once we see what we've got, we can come up with a game plan."

Part 3: "I'm not myself, you see"

Dean just gave a nod, not feeling like questioning his companion. Instead, he went for the coffee. "She didn't seem that cold to me, but whatever." He gave a shrug as he took a sip. "I'm cool with that, Rockford." He flashed him a smile behind his cup.

"Maybe..." Alex gave Dean another of his long stares, checking him out as he sipped his coffee. "Maybe you're hot enough even to melt the ice princess, in which case, I take my hat off to you. Can't say that she ever succumbed to my pretty green eyes. I did try!" He smiled. "Well, whatever. You're definitely hot. I can tell that much!"

Dean gave a smirk, then leaned back as his plate was set down before him. Starting to dig in immediately he gave a sigh of satisfaction. "Well," he said, between bites. "She's not gonna get a chance to ride the Dean Express, and I doubt I'll be seeing them again any time soon. Your boy sounds freaky, and I don't need that right now. I'm freaked enough as it is." He was eating away like he hadn't eaten in a few days. "Man, I'm starving. Felt like I haven't had a decent meal in a while. Well except that stew last night. She might be the ice princess, but she sure can cook."

Finishing off his meal, Dean pushed the plate away as he gazed out the window past Alex. He shifted in his seat, feeling that gnawing in his stomach again and looked away, down at the table. Something was bothering him, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He just knew that it wasn't the thought of time travel, whatever else it could be.

Alex had finished his breakfast too and downed a second cup of coffee before he indicated that the tab should be brought. "Let my employers pay for breakfast," he said, tossing a credit card down onto the tray that contained the bill. "They can afford it." He turned to look out of the window. "Looks like there's rain coming in. I figure we can be in Boston in about two and a half hours. Let's head out."

Quickly signing the receipt that the waitress brought back to him, Alex gathered up his card and rose to his feet. "Let's go solve the mystery of Dean Winchester, shall we?"

Dean got up, following after Alex. He got into the car, eager to find out about himself and hoping the information waiting for them would trigger some memories. He hated not knowing. He couldn't even remember if he knew how to ride a bike. Who had taught him if he did? Did he have a family? The photos in his wallet indicated that he might, but Dean couldn't be sure if they were even his relatives.

He settled back as Cape Cod slowly faded behind them. He reached over, turning the radio on and scanned it 'til he found a classic rock station, then he turned his gaze to Alex. "Who are these people you work for? They some black ops organization or something?"

"Something like that, yes," agreed Alex. "You know that old saying, 'who watches the watchers?' Well, I'm one of those. I guess you could say that my department is there to help keep the powers that be honest. I observe and report. Covert surveillance is my specialty, and I spend most of my time undercover. It's fun, and it pays the rent."

The car was soon pointed to the freeway and heading down on its way to Boston. A Foreigner song was playing on the radio, and pretty soon Alex was singing along, apparently carefree as he covered the miles.

Dean gave a nod before looking out the window again. He turned his head as Alex started singing, keeping time on the steering wheel while he drove. Dean smiled and started singing along with him as he rolled down the window. He was finally relaxing a little it seemed, and that odd feeling in his stomach wasn't as noticeable although sadly it was still there, if he thought about it.

The two hours passed, and they were nearing the Boston city limits. He was starting to get nervous.

The Syndicate offices were down beside the Inner Harbor, on Marginal Street. Alex led Dean up in the elevator from the parking lot below the building to a pleasantly wood paneled room with a number of computers and a fax in the corner. Going quickly to one of the computers, Alex turned it on and waited while it booted up. "We've got all the latest stuff," he murmured, pride in his voice. "Just got Windows 95. I'm gonna email my associates down in DC, and they'll fax me the stuff though. Don't want to leave your personal info just sitting on the fax machine though. That would be inviting trouble."

Dean entered the room and gave a low whistle, "Our tax dollars hard at work." Dean waited while Alex worked, walking around the room and picking at things. He started clicking his tongue in his mouth, making noises as he moved around. He glanced back, seeing Alex looking at him. "Sorry," he said as he realized what the look was for.

When the fax started to chirp, and the paper slowly began to feed through, they both rushed over to collect the information that was coming through.

"Dean Winchester was definitely born in Lawrence, Kansas. Check it out." Alex passed him the report on the Winchester family. "Mother deceased, father ex-Marine, one sibling, a younger brother. Latest photograph of your boy coming through in just a moment. We'll soon see what the hell..."

As the photo emerged from the fax machine, they both craned to take a look at it, unsure what they were going to find.

Dean took the paper from Alex. John Winchester was his father. Mother was Mary who died in a house fire. Brother, younger by four years, Samuel. "Sammy," he whispered then turned to look at the fax machine. Dean blinked at the photo. It was him, but younger.

That's me," he whispered. He frowned as he looked at Alex. "I need to go see them."

"It is you, isn't it?" Alex was holding the photograph up, and his eyes darted between the two of them, fascinated by the comparison. "You do come from the future. That's so cool. We need to go find your younger self, see just what happens - whether you wink out in a little puff of smoke." He laughed. "I'm just kidding."

"It's not funny," Dean snapped and pulled away. He grabbed the papers and started heading out and then winced as his head suddenly started hurting. Grabbing a chair, Dean stopped as the world flashed, images of his life quickly playing before his eyes. He dropped down to one knee, holding his head. "Alex?" He swallowed hard, and his face contorted in pain.

Alex almost crashed into the desk in his haste to get to Dean's side. "You okay?" he asked, helping Dean to his feet and supporting him over to a chair. "What the hell happened, Dean? You need anything?" He raced to a cabinet in the corner and took out a bottle of scotch and two glasses, pouring generous tots and passing one over to Dean. "Here. Drink this. It's gotta be good for something."

Dean sagged into the chair. He leaned his head back, groaning and rubbing at his forehead. Looking at the glass Alex was holding out to him, he took it, knocking back the liquor. "Dude, I don't belong here. I belong ten years in the future. I gotta find my dad. He'll know what to do." He emptied his glass. "But he's not gonna be in Kansas. We left shortly after my mother's death and never went back. But I think I know where to find him, if my memory serves me right."

"Your memory?" Alex looked at his glass and then at his companion again. "You mean that you can remember?" He waved the bottle of scotch at Dean. "Here! Have some more and start thinking about the Superbowl and stuff. We really could clean up!"

He sat down on the edge of the desk next to Dean. "So where is this dad of yours? Won't it be weird running into a younger you?"

"I don't remember it all - just bits and pieces." Dean took another drink of the scotch. "I'm pretty sure that meeting myself is something I have to avoid. But how big a problem it's likely to be, I don't know." Dean held out his glass. Alex refilled it and Dean took another drink, remembering how his father would leave him behind to watch over Sam. "About now, I'd say he's in Texas." Dean got to his feet, setting the glass down. "I gotta get going, he's not gonna be there long." He started heading for the door.

"Hey! Wait up! Not so fast." Alex hurried after Dean, seeing his dreams of winning bets melting like so much snow. "You just gonna go waltzing off to Texas without thinking about it? How are you going to get there? You can't use those credit cards you're carrying. There's no such thing as Bank One." He caught Dean's shoulder and grinned. "Besides, I've got a car, a credit card that works and a hot ass. What more could you possibly wish for?"

Dean turned, brushing Alex's hand off his shoulder, "Look, thanks for your help but I'm a big boy. I'll get there." He looked Alex over, "Don't you gotta go check up on your boyfriend, lurk outside his windows again or something?"

"Awww... don't be like that." Alex looked crestfallen, and his eyes assumed a puppyish longing. "You gonna deny me some fun? I thought I'd helped you. What's the matter? Didn't I help you get your memory back?" He sighed and looked thoroughly dejected. "I thought we were getting on okay."

"Fun?" Dean raised an eyebrow then rolled his eyes. "Some. Some of my memory back," he tried to clarify as if that would make a difference. "Won't your bosses get a bit annoyed, if you just up and leave your assignment to take off across the country with some guy looking for his father?" Dean was nervous about the fact the man was government, knowing that was the last thing he needed to bring around his family. His father would tear him a new one if he found out that Alex was a Fed.

"My bosses are fine with whatever I choose to do." Alex raised his chin in a defiant look that made him appear to be all of six years old. "And besides, I'm not the only one watching Mulder. It gets kinda boring sitting on my can all day in a bush, waiting for Mulder to do something dumb. Admittedly, it's amusing when he does, but I've been doing it for far too long. I'm getting to the stage where, whenever I see the guy, I want to smack him."

He waved a hand and turned away. "I've got leave coming to me, but that's okay. If you don't want me around, just go and forget it."

Dean felt as if all the air had been sucked out of him as he sighed. He looked away and then growled as he lifted his eyes back up to Alex. "Damn it!" He walked over and grabbed Alex's arm. "C'mon. You and your damned puppy dog eyes!" he grumbled as he pulled Alex toward the door. "I guess I could use the company. You're probably gonna find me as boring as your boyfriend and live to regret it." Stopping at the door, he grinned and held out his hand. "Gimme your keys. I'm driving, Ponch."

"Yeah?" Alex gave Dean a quick, sultry look from under his lashes. "Well, if I let you drive, you'd better know how to use a stick shift. I don't want you stripping the gears on my baby. She may not be the best car in the world, but I love her anyway." He smirked. "Okay, it's gonna take us a couple of days to get down to Texas, even if we drive all night as well as all day, so I guess that it'll be all right. Whereabouts in Texas are we heading for?"

Reaching into his pocket, he drew out a set of car keys. "There you go. Be careful, won't you?"

"Of course I know how to use a stick." Dean grabbed the keys and headed out. "Waco, and, no, not going to visit the Branch Davidians." They took the stairs down as Dean continued to wonder if it was a good idea. This man was going to find out what he and his family did, and that wasn't good. Of course he was more nervous about seeing his father and being unable to tell him what was going to happen to them. Luckily, he thought, he had a few days to work it over in his head.

He got into the car, waited for Alex, then started the engine, hitting the road. He kept glancing over at Alex, debating if he should tell him. "So, Mulder... is that all he chases after, little green men?"

"Are you kidding?" Alex laughed softly. "Nope, not at all. He chases all kinds of weird shit. Bigfoot... ghosts... he had me running around after some guy that could project illusions. That was freaky. This guy hadn't slept in twenty some years, and he could make you see whatever the heck he wanted you to see. Then there was the gorilla that had her baby abducted from her womb. He's a complete crackpot. People used to laugh at him and his X-files, but he's got the thickest skin on the planet."

Part 4: "Which Way Ought I To Go From Here?"

Traffic out of Boston was incredible, and for what seemed like hours, they were stopping and starting. Alex had seemed to snooze for a while, but then suddenly turned to Dean. "So tell me about Dean Winchester and the fabulous future," he said, looking fascinated.

Dean had to bite his tongue about everything that Alex had told him, and he was half thankful he had to work the clutch and the stick to keep the car going in traffic. It sounded to him as if Mulder was trying to get people to accept that the supernatural existed instead of just killing things and fading back into the woodwork as most hunters did. Who cared about who recognized your work, as long as you saved lives?

"Me?" Dean made a face and shrugged, "Not much to tell. But if I were you, I'd invest in cell phones. In the future, everyone has them." Dean reached in his pocket, digging around before he pulled his out and handed it over. "Even has a camera in it." Dean flipped it open and took a picture of Alex before handing it over to him. "How much of that did you believe? The stuff Mulder was doing?" Dean asked as he took a turn.

Alex's eyes were round as he examined the little phone. "Oh, man, this is straight out of Star Trek." He seemed preoccupied as he studied the phone. "Wow. All those companies making film for cameras are going to shit bricks when this stuff comes out. Cell phones? Awesome. I'll bear that in mind."

He scratched his head. "Mulder is usually right about what he calls his 'extreme possibilities'. I saw enough to know that he's not completely full of it, however bizarre his thoughts are, but I've gotta tell you, he scares me as much as his ghosts do. Frankly, I think he ought to be locked away in a padded cell for the good of himself and everyone else around him." Alex sighed. "He's hot though," he added, looking sad. "Got a hell of a mouth on him."

Dean took his cell phone back, slipping it back in his jacket pocket. Things were slowly seeping back into Dean's memory - his childhood, his father taking him to shoot for the first time, he and his brother Sammy rough-housing in the back seat of the Impala. How he took care of his little brother. Then there was his first kill, at sixteen, taking the thing out in the woods, while Sam waited in the car. That was the point he believed that things had truly changed for him, and he'd known what he wanted to do, what he had to do.

There were still things, however, that remained blank. He still had no idea how he'd ended up in the past. He couldn't recall why his father had left him or why his brother had done so before that. Dean had to ask himself if he really wanted to remember those things, if he was going to be stuck here in 1995. He reached over and turned on the radio. Maybe, he thought, the music would help.

"Why do you say he should be locked away? I mean, if you saw some of the things for real, how can you say that?" Dean looked over at Alex, ignoring Alex's comment about Mulder's mouth.

"Let me tell you about Mulder," said Krycek, frowning. "He used to be the best profiler in the F.B.I.. He could get into the mind of a serial killer like no one else could. He'd nail the unsub every time, but it took its toll on him. All of a sudden he just quit the Violent Crimes unit and moved down into the basement with his X-Files, all that paranormal stuff. He believes in stuff that you and I would raise our eyebrows at, and he's still putting himself into the mind of the killer, only now the killer is usually a werewolf or a shapeshifter, and that's scary. Who would want to give themselves over to the paranormal that completely?" Alex tapped on the dashboard in time to the music and gave Dean a look that was more than usually piercing. "I can understand wanting to know more about what's out there, but I'm not willing to lose everything to do it."

Dean met Alex's eyes, and then fixed his gaze back on the road ahead. Alex was going to be in for a big shock, if he managed to stay glued to Dean's side through this encounter. Dean was just glad Alex hadn't seemed to notice how well Dean was taking his time travel experience. A little too well, the casual observer might think.

"We'll stop someplace for the night once we get another couple hundred miles under our belts." Dean pushed down harder on the gas. This wasn't the Impala, but it did have some get up and go. The rest of the drive was relatively quiet. Dean kept the talk to safe subjects. Topics he could answer without giving away too much. Alex had finally fallen asleep, and it was well into the night, before Dean pulled over to get a motel room. In the office, Dean asked for a room with two beds, queens.

Returning back, he woke Alex, "C'mon. Got us a room." He walked around to it, unlocking the door and heading right for the bathroom.

Following behind, Alex smiled to himself at the young man's confidence. He checked his watch and then called out to Dean. "Got to go find a drug store and get myself a toothbrush or so. You need anything? What about food?"

Ordinarily, he kept the bulk of his belongings in the trunk of his car, but his toothbrush and toiletries were still lying on the counter in the bathroom back in Massachusetts, and Alex didn't feel much like going back to retrieve them. This was much more interesting. He fumbled in his pocket for his car keys and then recalled that he'd given them to Dean. Grinning, he settled down in an armchair to await Dean's emergence from the bathroom.

Dean emerged shortly, wiping his wet hands upon his jeans, "Yeah, get me some of those things, oh, and a coffee. I'll eat whatever you bring back, I'm not picky." Dean stretched his body until his spine cracked before digging in his pocket and tossing his companion the keys. Once Alex got up and left the room, he moved over to the window, looking out as he wondered if he truly could trust the man, or if he should just ditch him right now and go in search for his father on his own. John wasn't going to take too kindly to a Fed. That much Dean remembered. Either way, Dean was going to have to wait a few minutes so he lay down on one of the beds, crossing his arms over his chest and closing his eyes... just for a few minutes.

When Alex returned from his foraging trip, bearing toiletries, candy and the requested food, he found Dean dead to the world. He was lying on his stomach, having rolled over and slid his hand under the pillow, and his short hair stuck out in all directions. His face was pale, and the freckles stood out like gold dust on his skin. Long lashes spilled onto his cheeks, and he was snoring gently, apparently exhausted. Alex felt a rush of tenderness as he gazed down at the man, and was almost inclined to let him sleep on.

However, Dean was still fully dressed, and he would almost certainly wake up at some awkward hour of the morning if not settled properly, so he put the food he'd brought down - merely a burger and fries from an all night eatery he'd found beside the drug store - and gently shook him awake. "Hey, Dean. Come on, buddy, I've got your sumptuous repast."

One bleary eye appeared from its hiding place in the pillow, and Dean peered at Alex, then struggled up to a sitting position. He grabbed the coffee and blinked owlishly at his companion, but didn't say anything, merely nodded as he drank and then turned to the food, demolishing it in just a few bites.

"Sleep," he grumbled, pulling off his shoes and jeans and then finally climbing into the bed and seeming to fall asleep in a few seconds.

"So we're going to Waco?" Alex got a mere nod from his companion as they set out again the following morning. "What's your dad doing in Waco anyway?"

"Nothing." Dean was terse as he put the car in gear and pulled away. They'd stumbled out of bed, washed and bundled everything into the car along with themselves. Breakfast was somewhere on the road ahead and Alex was feeling grouchy.

"He must be doing something," he growled.

"Hunting." Dean reached for the radio, wondering if he should tell his companion about his father. Dad would likely kill him, if he did.

Mysterious, thought Alex. Oh, well, if he wants to maintain an air of mystery, who am I to argue? Aloud, he muttered, "So what's your dad hunting? What is it that you do, exactly, Dean?"

Shifting his eyes to the side to gaze at Alex, Dean found himself still debating if he should tell him. Arguments ran through him but mostly in his dad's voice, telling him that no one should know what they do, save for those they helped. Victims were the only ones who'd understand, although on reflection Alex was watching a guy who spent his life looking into the paranormal, so he already knew some of the things that could be out there.

Dean suddenly pulled the car over to place it into park. He turned the radio off before shifting to look at Alex. "Remember when I asked you about Mulder? You said he looked into the paranormal -the strange stuff you saw. Well... the man is not all that whacked in the head. Probably obsessed with proving it and trying to get others to believe him, but... those things are real. I know. My mother was killed by one of them." He paused a moment to let that soak in.

"So that's what we've been hunting. We just help others along the way. If you think the things that Mulder showed you were strange, you should see all the shit I've seen – and killed."

"You mean that you go chasing aliens and shit?" Alex looked a little stunned, and no wonder. It was a shame, he thought. Dean was so sexy, so damned beautiful. What a pity that he'd turned out to be the same kind of flake that Mulder was. He chose his words carefully, avoiding Dean's gaze. "You mean that you and your family hunt..." The paranormal, Dean had said, so maybe not just aliens. Alex coughed and smiled a little, although the smile didn't reach his eyes. "The paranormal is ghosts and goblins and that kind of thing, am I right? And you do what? Go around exorcising them?"

It must be something to do with the mouth, Alex thought to himself. The sexier the mouth, the nuttier the guy behind it. Surreptitiously, he looked at his reflection in the mirror behind the sun visor, trying to determine how much of a nut he might be. He'd never really thought of his own mouth as sensual before, but now he wondered. He chased aliens around too, after all.

"Aliens? I'm not a freak," Dean turned away, sounding totally pissed. "You know this is why hunters don't advertise." He reached to put the car in gear but then stopped again and turned back to Alex. "I can't make you believe me. I'm not even sure I want to." He looked Alex over, then opened the door. "Sorry I dragged you out here. I'll find a ride the rest of the way. You can go back to... whatever the hell you were doing." He climbed out, closing the door.

"Christ, you're touchy!" Alex climbed out after him. "Look, all I know is what you tell me, right? You tell me that you do the same stuff that Mulder does. That's what he does. He chases after aliens - he's got a poster of a flying saucer on his wall that says, 'The truth is out there!' Me, I think that he's a little out there himself, but if that isn't what you do, maybe if you tell me, instead of throwing a fucking hissy fit, I'll draw the right conclusions." He was angry now, fists balled and tension tight in him. "And you know what? If I'm not even worth the trouble of telling me what the hell you do, then fuck you and fuck the horse you rode in on. I don't need another asshole dicking me around."

"I don't go chasing after aliens!" Dean whirled around. "That IS fuckin' out there. No. I chase and hunt after things that actually exist, things that can fuck you up. Poltergeists, demons, evil spirits. That thing under your bed you were so scared of. That monster in your closet. That scraping at your window. Bet your pretty boy doesn't even know how to ward them off, does he? Do you have a clue what you need to do to keep a vengeful spirit from doing any more harm? Does he know about the salt? Does he know to burn the bones? It's not a glamorous job. Hell it doesn't even pay, but it's what we do. And personally I could care less if the fuckin' world knows about it - unlike Mulder. But you know what? Right now, I'm the freak. Out of time. Stuck in the past. I need to get back. I need to get the rest of my memory back. Because something in my gut right now tells me there's something I'm supposed to do. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna get on my horse and head that way." He pointed.

"Yeah, well, I was helping you, wasn't I?" said Alex, dry humor in his voice. "Only you seemed to be desperate to pick a fight with me, so if you wouldn't mind telling me what that's all about, I'd be grateful." He leaned back on the hood of his car and stared at Dean. "Just what is it with you? I never know what the hell's gonna piss you off next. Don't you want my help, or is my deodorant past its expiration date?"

"Because you're government, and..." Dean looked away, toward where he hoped to find his father. "And my dad would beat the crap out of me if I brought you with me. It's not like what we do is legal." He looked at Alex and then walked back over, leaning on the car beside him.

"Me? Government?" Alex gave a bitter laugh. "I'm so not government, that it's actually kind of funny. The Feds would like to get their hands on me for a number of reasons. I was undercover in the F.B.I. to watch Mulder, but like I told you, he caught on to me and I had to abort the mission. I work for a syndicate of high ranking government officials, but I'm freelance. I decide what orders I take and how to carry them out." He gave Dean a bleak look and spread his hands. "And if you let your dad or anyone else beat the crap out of you, maybe you aren't the guy I thought you were, either."

Dean stared at the ground. There was something about his dad he couldn't remember. Something important he should tell Alex, but the more he tried to think on it the more it frustrated him. He tipped his head towards Alex, "Just who did you think I was?"

"I thought you were a guy with a problem, and I could help you. That's all." Alex nudged Dean with his elbow. "You gotta admit, it's an unusual predicament, and I'm fascinated. I want to know what happens next, you know, and if you keep on threatening to walk out on me, I'll never know, so just... be nice, okay?"

Dean rocked with the nudge and nodded with a sigh. "Okay, just don't give me those puppy dog eyes." He pushed away from the car, turning to stare at Alex for a long moment. The man had incredible eyes, lips that were begging to be kissed, and there was just something about his voice. Somehow the way Alex wore his hair reminded him of Sam, the way the wind was blowing it in his eyes. "We aren't far now, I guess we should get going."

"Puppy dog eyes? What puppy dog eyes? This is my sultry, come hither look. Don't tell me you're immune!" Giving Dean the benefit of his sexiest smoldering look, Alex climbed back into his car and sat, drumming his fingers on the dash. "So tell me about the vengeful spirit thing. You really get into it with vengeful spirits? How do you know what to do with them, anyway?"

Dean couldn't help but smile as he walked around to his side and got in. "Sultry huh?" Dean grabbed Alex's collar and pulled him close, giving the man a devastatingly sultry look of his own, "If that was the case, a boy like me might think you were coming onto him. And you wouldn't take advantage of a boy with memory loss would you?" He smirked.

"Hell, why not? That way, if we fell out again I could deny everything, and you'd be powerless to prove me wrong." Alex leaned in towards Dean, one eyebrow raised and a knowing smile on his lips. "Besides, being the innocent young fella that I am, I could be wrong, but I might misunderstand your hand on my neck and think that you were upping the ante a little."

"Would you really think that?" Dean asked as his hand moved lower. Damn but the man's skin was warm, and Dean could feel his heart beating. Dean knew his own was already beating just as fast. He leaned in further, their lips nearly touching, and he allowed his breath to caress Alex's cheek as whispered, "I don't think you would be denying anything."

"I don't think I'd want to, would I?" murmured Alex, suddenly feeling his body tighten as Dean's fingers touched the soft skin at the back of his neck, caressing it slowly as though he didn't realize he was actually doing it. He'd wanted to seduce Dean almost since the first moment he saw him, and the fact that the other man had suddenly turned the tables on him was exciting. He paused, waiting to see if Dean would tease, or if he'd actually give him a taste of that incredibly succulent looking mouth. "I think I'd be more likely to be begging for more."

"I'd have you begging all right," Dean whispered, exhaling against Alex's ear. He drew back slowly but not very far, then moved in again as if to kiss him but, instead, dipped his head to the other side, giving a light scraping bite to Alex's neck, just below his left ear. "I'd give you such a time you wouldn't be able to forget it." He exhaled against Alex's right ear.

"You're a tease, aren't you?" Alex was hard now, his cock pressing against his jeans as if it wanted to fight its way through the fabric. He slid his hands up along Dean's arms to his shoulders and then cupped Dean's face, gently turning it so that their noses touched. "I'm afraid that there's just no other answer right now. I'm going to have to teach you a lesson." Slowly, he leaned forward again until he could brush Dean's lips with his own in the gentlest of caresses. "Oh, yeah, that's what I wanted," he said. "And this..." And with that, he pressed closer, closing the gap between them so that he could kiss Dean for real.

Part 5: "Speak Sharply to Your Little Boy"

Dean exhaled deeply as they drew closer. At the light brush of lips, Dean felt his insides tighten. His cock was swelling as it only ever had with two other men in his life. Now, for some reason, it was getting happy for this man. Dean pressed forward as well, drawing a breath through his nose and exhaling as he leaned into Alex. He had to pause and work out angles, because this car was not like his Impala with its bench seat. He kept the kiss deep and sensual, exploring Alex's mouth and dropping his hand down rather adventurously to cup at the tight jeans and find the arousal hidden there.

Pulling back slowly as he nibbled and sucked at Alex's bottom lip, he gave a smirk, "Teach me, if you can."

Alex shuddered as Dean's fingers found his groin, pressing against him and sending a jolt of pleasure through him. "Oh, yeah, I've got a ton of lessons for you, although it seems to me that you're pretty well educated already." He closed his eyes and moved in for another kiss, harder, more intense this time, tongue sliding in to lick and taste, while his fingers slid through Dean's hair.

Finally letting him go and sitting back, he gazed at Dean, who was looking flushed and gorgeous, lips kiss-plumped and delicious. "Jesus, man, you're a masterpiece of genetic engineering."

Dean had been basking in the reactions of his companion. His breath had almost been stolen by an intense and searching kiss. He couldn't hide the tiny tremble shaking his body as he felt fingers carding through his hair, although as Alex drew back and pulled away, he put his elation on hold.

Dean pulled his hand away reluctantly, letting blunt nails scrape over him as he withdrew it. "You're impressive yourself. Pity this armrest is in the way. If it was my car, wouldn't have that problem." Dean had a dilemma. His hormones were screaming for more, but time wasn't allowing it. He had to get to his dad. He rubbed at his lips, still feeling them burning from Alex's kiss. He glanced sideways at his companion, his hand itching to reach back across before forcing it to the keys in the ignition. "We gotta get going," he said, his words reluctant as he turned the key and started the engine.

"I get to carry on with this just as soon as we hit a motel, okay?" Alex's eyes burned into Dean's. "That's not an option, by the way. That's a statement of policy." His lips twitched a little as he readjusted his pants and tried to get comfortable. "If I don't get to finish what we've started here, I suspect that I might explode."

Dean shook his head and smiled. "Since you put it that way." He pulled the car away from the side of the road and back onto the blacktop. He shifted in his seat, equally uncomfortable. "Gee, I would really hate for you to make a mess, but the begging sounds like music to my ears." He smirked and pressed on the gas, wanting get to where his father was without losing any more time. It occurred to him sadly that if he and Alex were ever going to get it together it would have to be covertly, because Dean was sure his father wouldn't stand for it.

Dozing a little, Alex found himself having an erotic dream, and woke to find himself straining against his clothing, almost at the point of orgasm. Sitting bolt upright, he gasped. "Jesus! Where are we?"

He looked around himself, trying desperately to recover his cool exterior, eyeing Dean to see if he realized exactly what had happened to him. "We... umm... we nearly there yet?"

Dean glanced over at Alex and grinned, because the car had stopped and had been parked for some time. He nodded, "We're here. I remember that my father was chasing a shape-shifter." He studied the woods. His father was out there, and Dean knew he would eventually come back to the Impala sporting a few cuts and bruises and feeling dog-ass tired. He remembered that when John had returned home to them, there had been dark circles under his eyes and he'd been horribly pale. Dean remembered getting him soup to warm him up, before he'd cleaned him up and told him it was okay.

Looking out across the trees, Dean could see smoke rising. He climbed out, hands in his pocket as he moved over to the Impala. Looking into the backseat, he found a duffel bag there, filled with his father's gear. John Winchester would be returning soon, and he leaned against the car to wait for his father.

Alex sat in his car, feeling disoriented. Dean had mentioned a shape-shifter, and Alex was trying hard to get his head around the idea of a werewolf or something out here in the woods. He watched Dean saunter over to the big, black muscle car that was parked a little further down the verge, and he wondered what would happen when the father suddenly reappeared. He couldn't take his eyes off Dean. The man was gorgeous, and Alex wanted him so badly, but he wasn't sure if he'd ever get the opportunity. He was convinced that Dean had come from the future, and the thought that he might suddenly be yanked back just as abruptly was making him anxious.

Alex watched as Dean took up a perch on the hood of the Impala, and absently rubbed his groin. He was going to need fresh underwear very soon indeed. He was still thinking about the feel of Dean's tongue sliding over his, when the dark haired man emerged from the woods.

A little taller than Dean, he looked battered and bloodstained, and as he came face to face with Dean, Alex expected to see a friendly greeting. Instead, it looked very much as if there was going to be an argument.

Sighing, Alex climbed out of the car and went over to join in the fun.

John stood looking at the man who resembled his son but who was so obviously older, and whose hair was so much shorter. He looked rougher around the edges as well, and he said his name was Dean. In fact, he insisted that his name was Dean Winchester, but being who he was and knowing what his family did to make a living of sorts, John felt on edge, enervated from his recent hunt. "You are not Dean," he growled, reaching for his gun and drawing it on Dean. "So just what are you, before I put you to rest?"

"Dad?! It is me. I'm just... I'm from the future." Dean's mind worked fast, speeding up a hundredfold when he saw John whip around to point his gun at Alex too. "Dad, no, he's a friend."

"Just who the hell are you two?" John snapped. "Or should I say what?"

"Dad, it's me, Dean. Your son. When I was seven, you took me out shooting for the first time. You set up a line of cans and gave me the gun. I hit every one." Dean looked about, thinking again, "That thing you just killed, you told me all about it. It was a shapeshifter. It scratched your leg up pretty good. You took him out in two shots. One in the leg, and the other right in the forehead. You burned him. You left me and Sammy with Pastor Jim, and I made you cookies."

John frowned at Dean and lowered his gun somewhat, because only Dean would know those things. But then he looked at Alex, "Who are you?"

"My, my, aren't we gracious?" Alex gave John an insolent smile. "You can call me Alex, if you want. I'm a friend of Dean's." He put his hands in his jacket pockets, feeling the reassuring weight of the Glock he carried. If need be, he would shoot this surly bastard in the leg to encourage him to be polite. "Dean seemed to think that you'd be able to help him. Personally, I'm not so sure, but there you go."

John narrowed his eyes a bit, "Remind me to teach you not to hang out with little boys. Take your hands out of your pockets and leave the gun there."

Dean moved over to stand between him and Alex, "Dad, can we go someplace to talk this over. Alex is cool. You know I wouldn't bring him here if he wasn't."

John looked the two over, then lowered the gun, "There's a hotel not far from here. You follow. Dean, get in the car." John walked around to the driver's side of the Impala, while Dean gave Alex a look.

"I'll see you there," he said softly to Alex as he moved around to the passenger side. He got in, and it felt good to be in the Impala once again. As they drove off, Dean filled his father in, with everything he remembered. Everything that he could remember.

Following the Impala obediently, Alex frowned. This man that Dean was pinning his faith on so visibly seemed like nothing more than a bad tempered boor to him. The fact that John Winchester had called him a little boy hadn't sat well with him, and he was still nursing a hard on for Dean and his amazing lips.

"We don't need your dad, Dean," he growled, and then felt silly for talking to himself.

The Impala pulled into the parking lot of a hotel shortly after that, and Alex followed, pulling up alongside. Emerging from his vehicle, he strolled around to join the other two with an outer calm he definitely wasn't feeling. "So what's the plan, guys?" he asked.

John had emerged from the Impala, along with Dean, and the older man glared at Alex before heading into the small office to check them in. When he returned he was carrying the key to a room with two beds and looking thoughtful. While he'd been waiting, he'd been looking out the window at the man named Alex, and the other – the one that appeared to be his boy. Everything about the boy screamed Dean - his look, the way he acted – the fact that he knew things no one else would know. Even with the memory loss, John's instincts told him there was something in the boy's eyes that said this was Dean.

But the other man, that was different matter. He was packing heat, for one thing. John wondered how Dean had hooked up with him. John didn't quite like the way Dean had explained their meeting. He'd told John about this Mulder character and how Alex was watching him. He could understand Dean's attraction to the man; he was handsome, with brilliant green eyes to match Dean's own, and it was visibly clear that Alex was hot for Dean. You couldn't miss the raging hardon he had, despite the tough front he was putting on. And even now, as he stood with Dean, John could see Alex was leaning in closer than most men would, if they were just talking. So what did this guy want with his boy? Best to cut the man loose now, because it would likely be much more difficult later.

Signing for the key, he returned, stopping beside the two men. Dean had pushed away from the car, having recapped for Alex everything he'd told his father, almost, but not quite certain that his dad had believed him. "Got us a room so we can talk more privately," John informed Dean. He turned to look at Alex, "You can cut loose. I have him from here."

"Well, now, that's a matter of opinion." Alex's eyes narrowed. "Dean and I have some unfinished business, and I don't intend to run home with my tail between my legs, just because you decide I should." He frowned at John, wondering just what was his problem. "Besides, you might need me, you never know. I'm damned good in a fight."

John strode over, and Dean could sense an argument brewing. "No, it's a fact." John was now nose to nose with Alex. "Your business with Dean is done."

"Dad," Dean started to step forward, getting flashes of times he'd had to step between his father and Sam.

"We don't need him," John snarled.

"Maybe you don't, but I think that Dean's old enough to speak for himself." Alex was good and angry now, his game face in place, and his attitude suddenly shifted into stone cold killer mode. "What's the matter, daddy? You want to be the only alpha male around? Well, I've got news for you, Mr. Winchester. You can't just dismiss me like a servant, because I won't go. I like Dean, and I want to help him, and if that means you and I have to throw down because you're too pig-headed arrogant to step back and be pleasant, what can I say? Bring it on."

John grabbed the front of Alex's jacket, a snarl on his lips and his expression equally cold. Suddenly Dean pushed between them. "Knock it off you two!" Dean snapped. "That's enough. We don't need to attract attention."

John released Alex, but not without a little shove. He backed up, glancing at Dean. "We better get inside," he growled as he headed for the door.

Dean sighed, "He was like this with Sam, he explained apologetically. Dean motioned for Alex to go ahead of him, half-tempted to hotwire the car and leave, but he followed Alex into the room. His father had tossed his jacket on one of the beds. Dean closed the door behind him then leaned against it, suddenly looking tired and worn.

John had his hands in his pockets, gazing at his son. How his Dean was going to change! He looked as if he had some great weight placed upon him, and he was struggling to keep going. John frowned, wondering what was burdening Dean. "Okay," John finally said. "Can you remember where you were when you were thrown forward? Lets start with a state. Were you hunting?"

Dean finally moved away from the door and went over to sit down on one of the beds. "I think it was in Texas," he murmured, rubbing his forehead with two fingers as he hung his head, resting his elbows upon his knees.

"So what were you hunting in Texas?"

Dean shook his head, clearly trying to remember.

"What did he tell you?" John turned his attention to Alex, trying another tack.

"Not much. He said he couldn't remember." Alex shook his head, annoyed that he had nothing positive to contribute. "Actually, it was quite a long time before his memory came back, and that was only after we did a search on his driver's license. Before that, he couldn't even remember his name." Alex thought hard. "He said that you guys didn't ever go back to Kansas after you left it, but I don't suppose that's particularly useful." He scratched his head and smiled ruefully at Dean. "I'll tell you what brought that little bit of memory back for him, though. Seeing his photograph. You know, if you have some photos to show him, that might trigger a bit more."

He crossed over to sit next to Dean, visibly concerned about the level of stress Dean was exhibiting. "Hey there," he murmured, rubbing Dean's back. "Something's getting to you. What is it? Share the load, man, you're among friends now."

Dean shifted as the additional weight was placed on the bed and he unconsciously leaned in against Alex. That ache in his stomach was growing, especially when he gazed at his father. At that moment it was easier not to look at him, if he could help it. "Remember that feeling in my stomach I was telling you about?" If he actually had! Dean was getting to the point where he wasn't even sure of that any more. He lifted his head to sneak a peek at his father.

John frowned, looking about the room, anywhere except the two sitting on the bed. They remained like that for a long, tense moment, and then John grabbed his journal and moved over to where the two men sat. He resented Alex. The Winchesters had always survived on their own. They didn't need anybody else. It should have been Sammy sitting there, not him, even if he did remind John a little of his younger son with his wide green eyes and his mop of hair.

"Here, will this help?" He sat down beside Dean and handed over his journal.

Dean took the book as if it was something natural to do. He opened it up and saw his father's medals just where they should be, alongside a picture of when he was in the service. Dean frowned because there should be more in there. He pulled a picture out of the three Winchesters from a year long past sitting upon the hood of the car. "We were on a hunting trip. Sammy liked it... sort of," he explained to Alex, looking to his father for confirmation.

"He always did balk at the bow training." John had moved closer to his son. He wanted to reach up and touch him. He hadn't really touched him at all yet – not this Dean. It seemed as if the boy's body was screaming for the contact, somehow needing it to reaffirm his own existence. "Keep going, Dean."

Dean started to leaf through the pages. John's handwriting and drawings littered them. He stopped at a blank page and frowned, trying to remember. "There should be something here." He tapped it as he closed his eyes trying to picture it, then reached into his wallet, pulling out the pictures he had of Sam. He stared at them. "I was with Sammy," he whispered.

John seemed relieved to hear that bit of news. Even as adults the boys were going to be together. "Still taking care of your little brother, I see. That's good, son."

"Never-ending job," Dean gave a fake laugh as he handed the pictures over to Alex. "My little brother, Sam. I used those to make IDs for him." He frowned as he looked at his father. "We had your journal though. Dad, you never leave this behind." He held up the book and then dropped his head into both hands, rubbing at the back of his neck as if it ached.

John finally reached over to touch Dean's hair. It was shorter than his Dean was currently wearing it. "Maybe you should rest some."

Dean leaned into John for a moment before suddenly pulling away. "I am kind of tired." He closed the journal and handed it back.

"Hardly surprising," murmured Alex, huskily. "You've been driving non-stop for two days now. I'd be pretty damned shocked if you weren't."

He frowned at Dean. The constant mention of that empty feeling inside was worrying Alex. Who knew what effects being thrown back in time had caused Dean? There was something about Dean, something vulnerable. It made Alex want to pull Dean to him and hold on tight, just in case the other man might vanish from his sight.

"You need to get some rest, boy. Just slide into bed and I'll sing you to sleep, okay?" Alex smiled at Dean, a genuine smile that offered him a little encouragement. "Thing is, I'm not quite sure I understand what's going to happen next. You reckon that your dad came back home to you all covered in werewolf guts, and you helped clean him off and make him some soup, so is that still going to happen, or are we changing history here, and if we do change history, will that mean that the future changes too, with all that entails?"

Dean bumped Alex with his shoulder before kicking off his shoes and turning in place to climb up on the bed. John had gotten up to put his journal away. He stopped, picking up the shirt Dean had just taken off. "Hmm… good question. It might, it might not," He laid the shirt down on the chair by the table. "There are some that believe there are many time lines that radiate like a spider web, each one slightly different. It might change this time line but not affect his. It may not do anything at all because that wasn't a werewolf I killed, so maybe I'll run into something else along the way home."

Dean looked up at his father, "But you told me that was what it was." Then Dean realized there were many things his father had never told him. He bit back further words and settled into the bed.

"Get some sleep, Dean." John looked at Alex, "You can have this bed." He motioned towards it as he went to sit at the small table with his journal.

"Yeah?" Alex nodded. "Maybe in a while. I'm not the one that's stressed to the max and exhausted from a mad drive across the country. I'll sleep in an hour or so, but I'm not tired yet." He turned to look at Dean, noting the purple hollows beneath his thick sweep of dark lashes. Dean had fallen asleep already, snoring softly as he rolled to lie on his stomach, his hand under the pillow in the curious, child-like gesture that Alex had noted the previous night.

"Look at him. He's completely wiped." Alex crossed to sit at the table beside John. "So tell me, you got any ideas yet? There's something really eating at him, and when he remembers what it was, it's gonna break him, so the sooner we get him sorted out and sent back to his own time, the better, wouldn't you say?"

John cast a glance over at his son before going back to his journal. He had noticed it as well - the dark circles and the weight upon him. Finally he set his pen down and looked up at Alex. "It seems Dean has been pushing himself too hard. I don't know why. At least back where he's come from, Sam, his brother, is with him. Was with him, I mean. I guess that there has to be another reason, and we'll need to get it out of him." He tapped his pen on his journal.

"We need to find the area where the time shift happened. I think that's our best bet. If there was some sort of portal, it might still be there in this time. If not, I know that there are cliffs out in Arizona that are believed to have portals, strong energy. Certain magnetic anomalies. It would be worth a shot if our first attempt strikes out. That whole area has been reported of having some sort of vortex energy."

There was silence for a while, and then John looked up again. "Dean said your friend, Mulder, looks into this kind of thing. He ever mention it to you?"

"Whoa. Let me set something straight. Mulder is no friend of mine. Quite the opposite, actually, and he mentioned so many things like that to me that I'm not sure what to tell you. Arizona... hmmm..." Alex laid his hand flat on the table and stared at it as if it was the answer to the questions he was seeking.

"If it's any help at all, Dean landed in this time up at Martha's Vineyard, but I get the feeling that wasn't where he was when he started out." For a moment, Alex paused, then he raised his eyes to John's. "We can try this vortex energy thing of yours, if you like, but if you ask me, the first thing we need to do is to help him remember. If he can just remember, we'll be able to help him."

John looked over at Dean. The boy was sleeping in exactly the same way that John had seen him throughout his childhood. Dean still looked like his little boy - like the teenager he'd left behind to take care of his youngest. He shifted his gaze back to Alex. "Maybe some things are best left forgotten. And there is no guarantee any of this will work." He returned to scribbling in his journal.

Dean shifted restlessly. The nightmares were returning. He gave a little moan, and John shifted his head and frowned, "Has he been having nightmares?" he asked Alex, and when Alex shrugged, John went back to writing in his journal.

Dean suddenly started to thrash and sweat, groaning as he suddenly jerked awake, sitting up and looking around wildly. He had tears in his eyes, and his heart was racing. He wore a terrified look on his face, apparently unaware of where he was.

"Yeah." Alex rose to go to Dean, a worried look on his face. He took a seat on the edge of the bed and began to massage Dean's back gently. "It's okay, Dean. You're okay. You don't have to be scared; nothing bad's going to happen to you as long as we're here."

He shrugged at John, then turned back to Dean again as he did so. "There's something he's trying not to remember, I know it."

John seemed frozen to his seat. That look on Dean's face was exactly like the ones he'd seen when Dean would wake at four a.m., crying, just after his mom died. He closed his eyes for a moment, not wanting to dredge up memories that were better forgotten.

Turning over, Dean sat up, fighting his urge to cling to Alex. "I'm okay," he said, eyes desperately searching for his father again. He felt a sudden pang slice through his heart and turned, dropping down to face away from them, closing his eyes tightly as he swallowed down the tears he wasn't sure why he was shedding.

John pushed his journal aside, "Dean, what were you dreaming about?"

Dean didn't answer.

Part 6: "He Only Does It To Annoy"

If they'd been alone, Alex would've put his arms around Dean and held him. He wanted to do it so badly, but with John Winchester sitting there like a silent reproach, he felt odd about offering the man comfort. He didn't move away despite the glare with which John favored him. "You okay, Dean?" he asked. "What is it? Tell me, and I'll try and fix it, if I can."

"I'm okay," Dean mumbled. "And I don't remember."

"Dean," John tried sounding fierce.

"If one more person asks me if I'm okay..." Dean stopped and then shivered. He looked back at his father, suddenly realizing that whatever it was that he was trying to remember had something to do with his father.

John got up, moving over to sit down beside his son. "Dean, it's your memories that are causing this. You need to remember. They are seeping out and if you can bring them to the surface, you'll find it will help you."

"I know, dad, but I can't." Dean sounded very young. "It's almost there, but it goes away just as quickly."

"Try, Dean." John placed his hand upon him.

Dean shook his head, and then looked over at Alex. "I just remember a fire and burning a body."

"Burning a body?" Alex sounded a little shocked. "Whose body? Can you remember?" He looked at Dean, hesitating. " You don't…you don't think it was your brother, do you?" The thought was terrible, and he winced as he spoke, looking to John for a little help.

Dean shook his head, "No, he was sitting there beside me." He frowned, then sighed softly. "My head hurts."

John leaned forward and placed his hand on Dean's forehead. "He's running a fever. Alex, go to that bag over there. You should find a bottle of aspirin." John got up to get some water.

Settling back on the bed, Dean looked puzzled. "Why am I running a fever?"

"You're burning energy, boy. Trying to remember," John told him as he handed him the glass of water.

Dean took it, and then swallowed the aspirin Alex gave him.

"Go back to sleep, Dean," John gave his eldest a squeeze to his shoulder. Dean looked over at Alex. He couldn't beg Alex to crawl into bed with him, not in front of his father, but his eyes met Alex's in a silent plea.

For a moment, Alex looked stunned. Dean was tempting, but he didn't want to make any more waves than he already had just by being there. His indecision lasted only a moment and no more. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he pulled off his shoes and then his jeans and jacket, stripping down to his T-shirt and boxers, then, without further ado, he hopped into the bed beside Dean and rolled over to put his arm around the other man. "Okay, Dean. I got you. Go to sleep now, and see if you can remember what it is that's making you feel bad. Once you know, you'll be able to deal."

John pushed up from his seat, a flash of anger upon his face as he saw Alex undressing, but then he looked down at his son, the way he'd moved over, accepting. It appeared to him that this wasn't the first time the two had slept together, although John decided that he was going to make sure it was the last. It would be all too easy for him just to push in and gather Dean in his arms, just the way he had when Dean was little. However Dean was cuddling into Alex, wrapping his arms around him and burying his head in the hollow of his neck. John moved over to the other bed and sat down. All he could do was give Alex a warning look.

Pressing as close to Alex as he could, Dean closed his eyes tightly. He shivered, breathing in Alex's scent. A very soft whisper drifted to Alex's ear. "I remember."

There was a pause while Alex watched John warily. Then he shrugged again and turned his attention to Dean, who was burrowing against him as if he wanted to climb inside Alex's skin. Any other time but this, Alex would have jumped his bones, but right now, with Dean showing obvious signs of distress, and the kid's father glowering at him as if he wanted to knife him, was not the time. Sighing, Alex cuddled him close and made soothing sounds. "You're so tired, baby. You need to sleep, or you'll get sick, and that'll be a bad thing when you finally find your way back home."

Home... The word had never meant too much to Alex, but it held an especially bleak note now, because home for Dean was across ten years. It also meant that, if Dean succeeded in returning home, Alex would lose him, because time, even more than space, would effectively see an end to their love affair - a love affair that hadn't even started yet. Sighing, Alex held Dean, felt the heat that radiated from him, and wondered if he'd made a mistake getting involved in this.

John didn't strip down but he did lie on his back on the other bed. Now and again, he would glance over toward Dean and that man. That man who had no business being here and definitely had no business being that close to his son. He felt a twinge of anger and worse, a pang of jealousy.

Dean felt himself relaxing, allowing himself to melt against Alex. "Thanks for putting up with me," he muttered. His green eyes lifted to meet Alex's. "I have to get back." He had to get back to his brother. He ran his hand up Alex's back, pressing them closer. "You are going to help me, aren't you?"

Sighing, Alex nodded. Altruism had never been a particularly strong trait in him. "Yeah, baby, I am. I know you must be feeling lost, and I want to get you back where you belong." He paused, and then smiled as he added, "Even though, if I could, I'd tie you to my bed and keep you forever, which is weird when we've only ever kissed a little."

He wondered what the Dean of today would be like, and whether he would dare go and find him and just see if he wanted a relationship. A thought occurred to him. "Hey, I don't suppose you met me before. Before you came back in time, I mean. Did you?"

Dean pushed his head between Alex's and the pillow, his lips much closer to his ear so he could be certain that his father wouldn't hear. "I'll look you up when I get back and then you can tie me to your bed." He gave a lick to Alex's ear even as his hand moved back down Alex's body, so it could slip under his waist band and grip his bare ass cheek.

"No, we never met." He breathed. "But we're together now. Shhh," he exhaled as he slipped his hand around to the front of Alex's underwear, cupping him. Sex was something that helped Dean relieve stress, helped him to forget and to stop thinking. –At that moment, that's what he wanted – what he needed - to stop thinking, because, if he couldn't, he knew he would break down, especially if he rolled over and looked at the man in the other bed.

Painfully aware of the way John Winchester kept on casting glances across at them, Alex quivered, wondering if Dean actually really did mean to get it on. The sly touches were arousing him; he'd been half-hard since earlier in the day when they'd spent time kissing before meeting up with John. He was so aroused now that he though that just Dean's hand on him through his boxers might be enough to make him come.

"What are you doing?" he whispered into Dean's ear. "Do you want your Dad to hang, draw and quarter me?" He shivered as Dean ran his thumb down the ridged vein in his shaft and clutched at him convulsively. "I want to fuck you, but I don't want to die trying.""

His hand had strayed of its own accord down to find Dean's groin. Now it slowly insinuated itself into the slit in the other man's underwear in search of his cock. "I can get you back, you know, brat!"

"Shhh," Dean breathed as he pushed his hips against Alex's. His hand moved down to cup his balls. "I'll handle my dad." He bit Alex's earlobe, sucking on it. "I need this, Alex, I do."

John shifted upon the bed, not hearing the sounds of sleep. "Dean?" He whispered.

Dean turned his head, "Yeah, Dad?"

"Your fever going down?"

"I'm a little cold still." He gripped Alex's cock as he spoke.

"You need another blanket?" John got up, grabbing the one off his bed, crossing over to place it over the two men. He nudged Dean, who moved closer to Alex, only to feel his father climb in behind him.

Alex groaned inwardly. The prospect of sex with his companion had just receded to almost vanishing point, and he was hard and needy, his cock leaking in Dean's grip, his balls drawn in tight against his body. "Goddammit," he whispered, tightening his arm around Dean.

John had moved in close to Dean, and was now pressed up against his son's back and Alex's arm. "You know, John, just a suggestion," murmured Alex. "But denim really isn't comfortable in bed."

Dean felt like he'd died and gone to heaven, sandwiched between these two. He didn't know which body he wanted more to press against.

He heard his father grumble and saw him give Alex a look before rolling away while he pulled his pants off. They were dropped over the side of the bed before he pressed back against Dean. He wrapped his arm around his son, pulling him into his chest in a little more possessive way than he really intended. He leaned into Dean's hair, taking a deep breath. The scent was the same as his Dean. This was Dean for sure, older but still his son.

"We gonna have a tug of war here?" murmured Alex, smirking a little. The pressure of Dean's body against his was still so arousing to him that he was feeling a little reckless. Dean's fingers were still working on his cock and his breath was still tickling his ear. Summoning all his nerve, Alex leaned down to capture Dean's mouth, sucking at it as he slowly invaded it with his tongue.

"I really want you," he whispered. "Not just a little bit. I think I'm gonna explode, if I can't..." He was aware of John's arm touching him, of his arm pressing against John's where it encircled Dean, and suddenly it didn't matter any more. He wanted Dean.

John gave a little growl as this man leaned in to kiss his son. He clung to Dean more tightly, clutching his son tightly to him, all too aware of Alex's body, Alex's arousal. Alex cleared his throat. "Dean needs to rest. He's still feverish."

Dean was more than feverish now, he was roasting hot. The kiss bestowed upon him was devastating. He wanted Alex badly, but his father, his body pressing, made him feel like he could panic. He wondered if his father would be too disgusted with him after witnessing that kiss.

His hand squeezed Alex's cock even as he turned his head to his father. "Dad, I'm..." Dean never got to finish because his father closed his mouth over his.

It wasn't clear who gasped louder, Dean or Alex. Alex felt a jolt go through him as he saw the very attractive man that was John Winchester capture Dean's voluptuous lips with his own and give him a long, deep, wet kiss. Alex could hear it, hear the sounds as the kiss went on, and Dean's fingers tightened on his cock making him grunt a little and buck into Dean's hand.

"Oh, fuck me. You're just so gorgeous," he murmured, unsure which of them he meant.

He'd found Dean's dick and was stroking it gently as he watched the two of them duel, tongues licking and teeth clicking, and he slid his other hand up to play with one of Dean's nipples. "So gorgeous," he repeated, fervently.

The kiss was meant to claim Dean as his own, to tell the other man in the bed that this boy was his. John pulled slowly away, but in the back of his mind, even though he knew this wasn't truly his son, the scent and flavor were purely Dean. This was what he'd always wanted to do to Dean. In this time, John never touched Dean. He'd always worked him hard at his training, but he'd kept it just father and son. It had been different with Sammy.

Dean on the other hand, had rarely been graced with this much attention - especially not from his father. The only one who'd ever given him this kind of attention had been Sam, but that had stopped when his brother had left for college and hadn't resumed since they'd got back together. As Dean studied his father's face, he saw no disgust. If anything there was a dark lust lurking in his eyes. It surprised Dean greatly. He turned his head back to Alex, having heard the words. His body was tingling all over as if he might explode.

Dean leaned into Alex, kissing him deeply and allowing him to taste the mixed flavor of himself and his father. Already pressed in close, hand still around Alex's cock, Dean started moving his hand faster before removing it. He didn't know where to start, but he knew one thing, and that was that Alex and his father had to accept one another. Dean moved down under the covers.

"Dean?" John looked down, only to see his son pulling at Alex's underwear, revealing the hardened, swollen flesh. Then, suddenly, Dean was taking his hand, bringing it over to touch. John raised his head to study Alex. "So who were you speaking of earlier?" Under Dean's guidance, his hand gripped Alex, giving him a squeeze.

Dean leaned down, licking over his father's hands before reaching Alex's flesh and letting his tongue wash over him. All the while, his other hand was working to get his father free.

Stunned, wide-eyed, Alex wasn't sure if he was awake or dreaming. He squirmed around so that he could strip off his T-shirt and boxers and then moved closer to John, reaching for his shirt. "He's a demanding little brat, isn't he?" he smiled, indicating the activity going on down below the blankets. "Does he do that often? Oh, maybe you won't know, I guess. He's still a kid in this time, isn't he?"

Dean was still licking his cock, and that tongue was curling wickedly around him, teasing and withdrawing, then returning to probe into the slit on the head of his dick. John hadn't taken his hand away, indeed, he was tightening his grip, starting to stroke him, and Alex felt a little stab of lust as he looked at Dean's father.

Slowly, tentatively, as if he thought he might be rebuffed, he reached out to caress John's chest, admiring the depth of it, and the thick slabs of muscle that graced it. "I won't, if you don't want it," he murmured. "But he wants it. He wants both of us, and I really, really want him, so I'm game if you are."

John reached out with his free hand, cupping the back of Alex's head. "Shut up," he growled before closing his mouth over Alex's and kissing him somewhat savagely. This wasn't in the least what John had in mind, although Alex was very good looking, with green eyes like Dean's. He was also turning out to be a damn fine kisser, not to mention how good his cock felt as well. If this was what Dean wanted, John wasn't going to pass the moment up just because Alex was there.

Dean glanced up, and he had to pause, because the two of them kissing looked completely devastating. Dean thought that he could probably come, if he thought about that too long. Dean returned his mouth to Alex's cock, but not for long, because his father was now free, and Dean wanted to taste. He felt a jolt from John's hips and heard a hiss as he tore his lips away from Alex.

Gripping Alex's cock, John was stroking him firmly. "You want Dean, boy, you earn it," he breathed into Alex's ear.

"Oh, yeah," growled Alex, pushing the bedclothes back so he could watch Dean sucking on John. "Holy shit!" Dean's mouth was stretched around John's erection, his eyes wide, fixed on his father's face as he sucked. Alex felt his breath catch in his throat, and his heart thump painfully as if it could fight its way out of his chest.

He looked up at John again, seeing him similarly entranced. A spasm of lust shivered through Alex, and he reached for John again, claiming his mouth urgently as he pushed the man back into the pillows. "Whatever it'll cost, he's worth it," growled Alex against John's lips.

Dean was torturing John's cock, and John couldn't believe that he'd missed out on this with Dean. Sammy was one thing with his wonderful mobile mouth and those dark locks so soft against his hand, but Dean... Dean had a porn star mouth and it seemed that he knew how to use it. Damn! When had Dean learned this? His musings were interrupted as Alex's push, and then his kiss, totally threw him. John kissed him back, his mouth ravishing Alex's, his tongue probing as if he could search out the interloper's secrets. After a moment, he pushed Alex away. "No more for him," he informed Dean.

"Uh?" Dean rose off his father, crawling up to face him.

John grabbed Dean and kissed him, pushing him down between them again. He was moving now, grabbing Alex's legs. "Dean says you're worth it, but is he worthy of you?" He pushed Alex's legs back and apart as Dean watched intently, his hand rubbing over Alex's chest. "Get behind him, Dean," John commanded as he dipped down and slipped his tongue into Alex's ass.

Dean moved, getting behind Alex to support him, running his hands over Alex's naked body. "Damn, I can't believe this is happening," he thought, though in truth he wished it was his father doing this to him rather than Alex.

Turning his face up to Dean, Alex sought those plush lips again, tasting him, tasting his father, the scent of sex pervasive as they kissed, open mouthed and sloppy. The relentless tongue against his ass was driving him wild, and Alex knew that no matter what happened he would have Dean tonight. John Winchester was dark and sexy, but he was merely dessert. Dean was what had Alex's appetite raging.

"You're feeling a little better?" he asked Dean, and then gasped as he felt John's wicked tongue pierce his ass. "Jesus!"

John was getting Alex nice and wet, getting him primed for what was coming next. John glanced up past Alex's hard cock and, in a way, he hated what he saw. These two men were fucking gorgeous. Deadly gorgeous. Throw Sam in the mix and it was... John couldn't think of that.

He continued to work Alex, while Dean looked down, giving Alex more wet sloppy kisses. "Yeah, I am," he lied. Dean was still warm, but it was hard to tell if the heat was that of the moment or if he had a fever. "God, you're sexy," Dean whispered. He stroked his hand over Alex's chest, working a nipple with one thumb until it was hard and hot.

John suddenly reared up onto his knees, taking hold of his cock to rub the crown over Alex before pushing into him. "Hold him, Dean," he whispered, voice harsh as he leaned up to kiss Dean.

The sudden invasion took Alex by surprise. He gasped, tensing at first before forcing himself to relax and let John push his cock deep inside him. John Winchester was strong, his cock was thick and long, and it seemed that he didn't much care about Alex's comfort. Alex rolled his head on Dean's chest, panting as he felt John bottom out inside him. Smirking, he looked up to where John was still sucking on Dean's lower lip.

"That all you got, big boy? Come on! Show me how you use it." He let out a soft little laugh and licked along John's cheek, pausing to bite at the angle of his jaw, where ear and neck met and the skin was soft and vulnerable. "Let's not keep Dean waiting, now. He wants a turn."

Dean worked his mouth against his father's until they parted, and he could look down at Alex. There was an expression on his face that said he was used to waiting, used to being put last.

John could tell this wasn't Alex's first time. He was deep in Alex's ass, looking down at him as he drew back slowly. "I'll show you," he growled. He grabbed Alex's hands and placed them over his head, wrapping them around Dean. He ran his blunt nails down Alex's arms, before he grabbed the man by the hips to ram his cock back into him.

It was as if he was telling Alex that Dean was his. He intended to wear Alex out, so he wouldn't have anything left for Dean. His thrusts into Alex were drawn out and hard, ramming into him so his balls slapped against Alex's cheeks. "Shit," he hissed.

"I'll try, if you like," smirked Alex, between panting breaths, "But there's something in the way." He yelped as Dean pinched his nipple hard, and John thrust into him especially roughly at the same time. He was starting to feel good. Each thrust of John's cock into him sent tendrils of pleasure flickering along his spine, and he could feel Dean's hard length pressing into his back, moisture spreading over his skin each time John thrust into him.

Alex craned his neck back to find and lick at Dean's cheek, then his ear, wanting to touch him, wanting to explore the soft skin. "You're next, lover. You're gonna be balls deep in me, if I get my way."

John rocked his hips, setting a punishing pace. Whenever Alex paid attention to Dean, it made John want to draw that attention away. He leaned down, grabbing Alex's chin and turning his face up so John could kiss him. Alex responded eagerly, devouring John once again before he came up for breath. John was tempted to say that if Alex still had the strength after he was done, Dean was his.

Reaching out, Dean touched his father's hair, shivering although he was sweaty and hot. He could feel his blood pumping hard as he moved his hand down to his John's neck, and when John turned his eyes up to look at his son, there was something new in them. Dean swallowed hard at that look.

Leaning in to kiss his son, Dean was right there, seeming to know what he wanted. Their kiss was deep, and it sent a jolt through the older man. God, Dean was lovely. If John had only known. He growled and slipped a hand up around Alex's neck to give it a squeeze, "You like it rough don't you?"

"What makes you say that?" gasped Alex, shuddering hard. "I like it any way I can get it, thank you." He pushed John's hand away from his neck and reached to do the same to the other man. "I'm not into choking as a way of getting off. You need to go fuck Fox Mulder for that. He likes it, the freak." He gave a gasping laugh. "On the other hand, you can bite, if you like. That gets me going like you wouldn't believe."

He was close. It was getting harder and harder for Alex to concentrate as he felt each slide of John's cock over his hot spot. He felt as though he was shaking himself apart, and his balls were contracting, sending delicious little throbs of ecstasy through him. He shoved a hand down between the two of them and began to rub himself, delivering that last little touch that would tip him over into orgasm.

John looked at Dean, silent words exchanged. Dean leaned down and bit Alex's neck. John bit the other side, feeling Alex starting to tighten around him. He gave a growl and leaned to one side, placing his hand over Alex's, both of them stroking Alex's cock. His teeth bit just below one nipple, while Dean was nibbling his way around Alex's neck and ear. John was close as well, his thrusts becoming more demanding and faster. "That's it," he moaned, "Give it up, Alex."

The bites were arousing in themselves, and the hands that pinched and stroked all conspired to add to Alex's pleasure. He gave a little strangled cry and came, spattering him and John equally as he shot and shot and shot.

His arms tensed around Dean, his neck arched back, and he let the sweetness take him, unable to do more than shudder and pant and try to keep himself from coming apart.

Dean ran his hand over Alex, adoring the look on Alex's face. He leaned down, kissing him softly even as his father slammed into Alex hard and heard him release. John's face had tightened with the tension, and his growl filled the air. He shot deep inside Alex, his juices leaking out as he pulled back, emptying Alex and dropping down beside him. His chest was wet with Alex's cum, and Dean was still flushed. He pulled his son to him again, and Dean eagerly ran his tongue over John's chest, before turning his head back to Alex and starting to clean him as well.

"You a pitcher or a catcher, baby?" Alex asked the question softly, hands caressing Dean as he whispered. He ran his hands down over Dean's back, caressing his ass as Dean turned his body back towards John. "Either's good. I just want to lose myself in you." Alex leaned over Dean's shoulder to grip John's chin and kiss him hard and dirty. "You're a good fuck, John. You always want to be on top?" He drew back a little and smiled. "You strong and unyielding like a mighty oak, or supple and bending like a willow?"

Dean basked in the attention. Once the two men were clean, Dean kept his back to Alex, and his cock was aching painfully for release, getting even worse as the two men kissed. Dean had to bite back a whine.

John gave himself over to Alex's kiss and then pushed Alex back. "Conceited bastard, aren't you?" He wrapped his arm around Dean. "Why don't you put your mouth to better use? Give Dean a little relief." He looked deep into Dean's eyes, noting the way the green-gold eyes had darkened before leaning in to give him a soft and loving kiss.

"My boy," John whispered to Dean. "Is this truly how you're going to grow up?" John's touch was tender and loving, something Dean had not felt since he was a kid.

"Conceited? What makes you say that? I'd call myself adaptable - infinitely adaptable, and you're standing between me and something I want, just so you know." Alex gave Dean a little wink and an encouraging smile and slid down his body until he could nestle his face in amongst Dean's dark curls. "But I'm happy to oblige. I've wanted to do this since... well, pretty much since I first saw you sitting there on that step, looking lost. I'm a sucker for waifs, you know."

He fell silent, licking and kissing at Dean's inner thighs, smiling as he heard the little gasps and moans that his ministrations produced. Taking hold of Dean's cock, he looked up at John. "Why don't you get inside him and fuck him while I do this. He'll love you for it. Or are you done for the night?"

"Thought you were the one who was so eager," John replied, looking down at Alex as he sucked on his son's cock. at The lovely sounds Dean was making twisted at John's gut. Dean was devastatingly beautiful when he was all flushed and panting for it like this.

Dean looked at John. "You don't have to, Dad." Dean knew it took older men longer to recover, but as his hand moved down his father's body, he felt John's cock stiffen again.

"God, Dean," John half-cursed as he captured Dean's lips once again in a heated kiss. He pulled away from his son, gazing down at him and rolled Dean over on his side. "Get him prepped."

"I'm on it," growled Alex, not stopping what he was doing. He slid his other hand down to find the crease between Dean's buttocks and stroked along it. "Lube. We need lube. Don't want to tear him a new one, now, do we?" He raised his head to glare at John. "Come on, man. I know you were a boy scout once. You must have something we can use."

He took the tip of Dean's cock in between his lips and began to flick his tongue over it, gazing up at Dean with huge, adoring eyes.

Dean's breath caught for a moment at the feel of Alex's fingers in a place he wasn't used to feeling them. He moaned, his hand going down into Alex's hair to run his fingers through the dark locks. Craning his neck to look at his father, he saw that John had grabbed his jacket and pulled out a tube.

There was a wicked look upon John's face, "Didn't bother you none but then again you must be used to it." He flipped the lube over to Alex.

"I think I've just been insulted," smirked Alex, delivering a long, slow kiss to Dean's cock and then pulling away to unscrew the cap from the tube. "Hang in, Dean, we're going to do you up right." He spent a moment or two coating up his fingers and warming them before he returned to probe between Dean's buttocks. "Relax, baby, I want to make you good and ready, because you're worth it."

He returned his mouth to Dean's cock again, slowly sucking it in as he pressed first one finger and then two inside Dean, slipping deeper and deeper until he could find and stroke the gland that he knew would make him tingle. "There you are - feel that? That's how it's gonna be, only better."

Dean had been looking down at Alex the whole time he was being prepped. He swallowed hard at Alex's words, because for a long time he had never believed that he was worth anything. For most of his life he'd felt as if he wasn't appreciated, and now he was being given the appreciation and love he'd always craved. "Mmm, god, Alex," he breathed as first Alex's mouth, and then his fingers began to pleasure him.

Gasping, Dean's head fell back against his father, and his hips bucked forward, then back desperate to get more contact. "Oh shit!" He nodded and tightened his fingers in Alex's hair.

Sliding his hand down over Dean's skin, he ran it along his son's back until he could touch Alex's, feeling where it entered Dean's body. He wrapped his hand round his own cock then moved into position, and as Alex moved his fingers away, John pressed his cock inside quickly, before Dean could tighten up again. He could feel his son trembling as he pushed his way in. John had never imagined Dean could possibly feel this good, this hot or this tight. He was like a virgin.

Once John was fully seated inside Dean, Alex moved his hand away, returning to lavish attention on Dean's cock. He took it slowly, concentrating on the head of it to begin with, sliding his tongue around the crown, licking around the ridge of it, until he felt John start to move. As John's thrusts began to rock Dean, Alex opened his mouth wide and took Dean in as far as he could, allowing him to push back so far that he was almost triggering a gag reflex.

Salivating, almost choking from the force of each thrust, Alex sucked on Dean, fingers stroking and teasing around his shaft, along his balls and back to where John's cock impaled him.

Dean couldn't believe his father was inside him, fucking him. He felt like he was dreaming. Alex's mouth on his cock brought him back to full reality. "Shit," he groaned, grabbing Alex's hair, his hips rocked forward by his father's thrust. He could feel that the thrusts were not near as harsh as those he'd given to Alex, in fact, if anything, they were slow and drawn out at least to begin with. It wasn't long before they fell into a nice little pace, fucking - or was it lovemaking? Dean didn't care. He was just amazed and delighted to be experiencing it.

John nuzzled into the back of Dean's hair, whispering words Dean wished he could hear clearly. John bucked a little as Alex's finger invaded the place where he and his son were connected. "Make him cum, Alex," he growled.

Gurgling as Dean's cock drove into the back of his throat, Alex didn't answer for a moment. He fully intended to make Dean fall apart, wanted to see him do it, knowing just how incredible he'd look.

Looking at him right then, flushed and desperate, straining for more, deeper, harder, he was already heartstoppingly gorgeous. Alex was willing to bet that he'd look even better in the throes of orgasm.

He pulled away for a moment, knowing that Dean was close. "Trust me," he slurred around the tip of Dean's cock. "I fully intend to. He's gonna turn himself inside out." Then he dove down onto Dean again sucking harder than ever.

Dean cried out, his eyes closing tightly as he nearly bent in half. With John's cock angled just right to hit his sweet spot, and Alex taking him so deeply, he was coming apart. "Oh god," Dean groaned. His hips rocked with each thrust, pushing his cock deep into Alex's mouth as his dad's bucking knocked him forward. John speeded up now, his grip on Dean bruising.

John leaned in, biting Dean's earlobe. He knew Dean was close, he could feel it, and he encircled his chest so that he could press closer, brace himself for action. "Lovely boy," he whispered in Dean's ear.

The words hit Dean suddenly, and he thrust his hips forward, releasing into Alex's waiting mouth.

Alex swallowed manfully, almost gagging a couple of times as Dean filled his mouth. He'd been right about the way Dean would look when he came. Alex devoured it with his eyes, the way Dean's face tightened, the way his lips parted, his body tensing, his eyes losing focus. He drank it in, drank Dean in, besotted with lust for the beautiful young man.

Watching Dean's head fall back to lie along his father's shoulder, Alex was overcome with the desire to take him into his arms and hold him, stroke him gently, be a barrier between Dean and the world. Somehow, Alex could sense that Dean had been hurt, and that he would be hurt far worse before too long. He didn't think that John Winchester would protect his son from the pain, even if he could, so Alex would have to be the one to do it.

Murmuring softly to Dean, Alex moved back up to nestle against him, kissing his neck and chest, petting him as he waited for John to come again.

Dean couldn't move. Didn't want to move. John was releasing into him and Alex was nestled beside him, kissing him and petting him. Dean felt tears welling in his eyes. He buried his face into Alex's neck as John did the same to him. When Alex was able to hear what Dean was whispering into his skin, he found that he was mouthing the words, 'I'm not special,' over and over again.

Reaching forward, John wiped his hand over Dean's forehead and found he was still overly warm. He carefully pulled away from his son and pressed him down to lie on his back. "Dean, are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, Dad," Dean lied all too easily.

Holding Dean, feeling his sweet body melt against him, Alex felt powerful, as if he might be able to make a difference in the young man's life. He felt protective toward the other man, and at the same time he felt anger toward the father who seemed to want to play games with his son's life.

Part 7: "Because He Knows It Teases"

Cradling Dean in his arms as though he were something precious, Alex gazed down at him. "What do you mean, you're not special, baby?" He kissed the tip of Dean's nose and smiled. "I've never met anyone as special as you. I wish that you and I weren't gonna have to lose each other, if you find a way back to your own time." Dean didn't say anything, merely turned to look back at his father.

"Dean, what do you mean by that?" John asked, wiping his son's brow.

"Nothing," Dean shook his head, "I'm tired." He rolled into Alex, snuggling down.

John frowned but didn't press the issue. He just lay his head down and placed a hand on Dean's shoulder to let him know he was still there.

"Think you'll be able to sleep now, sweetheart?" asked Alex, gently stroking the man in his arms. "You're special to me, baby. I've got you." He grazed Dean's forehead with his lips and laid his cheek against it, fixing John with a glare that was intended to tell him to stop with the pissing contest, at least until Dean got a little sleep.

"He's had enough," Alex murmured. "Just let him rest. We can talk more in the morning."

Early morning found Dean outside, sitting on the hood of the car with a cup of coffee in his hand. He'd managed a few hours of sleep, but had gotten up around four and gotten dressed. What happened between the three of them seemed like a dream, even though the aches and pains he felt told him otherwise.

That wasn't what was bothering him. It was the fact he'd remembered more - remembered why he had that pit in his stomach. Now his insides were arguing with him about whether he should voice what he'd remembered, or whether he should just allow things to happen. Every part of Dean was screaming at him to warn his father and try to stop what was coming. Making his father promise not to do what Dean knew that he was going to do would be a waste of breath, he knew that.

Alex had felt Dean creep out from between them, heard the door close quietly a few minutes later. He thought he should give Dean a little time to digest the things that were going on, but after a half hour or so, when Dean didn't return, Alex decided to follow him. Dragging on his jeans and jacket, he stepped out of the room and swiftly spotted his new lover sitting on the Impala. Heading over to lean against the hood beside him, he didn't speak immediately. He just leant his head against Dean's arm and watched the sky slowly lighten.

When he finally spoke, all he said was, "You okay?" "I'm worried about you."

"No need to be. I'm fine." Dean took a sip of his coffee. He didn't even glance at Alex, merely stared at the motel door. Alex could see that Dean's attitude seemed to have changed, and if he looked closely he could see the pain in his lover's eyes. Sighing, Dean looked down into his cup then reached up to rub his eyes.

"Yeah, I can tell," growled Alex. "You're so fine that you're sitting out here in the cold, hurting and all alone. I didn't realize you were a masochist. Wish you'd tell me just what it is that's hurting you, man. I care about you. I really do." He looked away from Dean towards the room, hoping that John would remain asleep for just a little while longer. "It's something about your Dad, isn't it, baby? I can get that much. I just can't figure out what."

Dean's bottom lip trembled, and he looked up at the sky as if seeking support from it, drawing a hissing breath through closed teeth. "It is about my Dad." He turned to look at Alex. "We got close to the Demon, the one that killed my mother. It... umm... ended up nearly killing us. I was in hospital, dying. Pretty much dead. Would have taken a miracle for me to live. But then suddenly I was okay. Alive and well." He paused, trembling. "And five minutes later, my father was dead." His voice cracked. "He gave his life. Gave his soul to save me." Pain was written on Dean's face, a pain that turned a knife in Alex's heart. "He didn't even ask. Didn't even think about what I would have said. Just..."

Dean took a shaky breath. "You know something? He's never once called me son."

"Is that all?" Alex met Dean's eyes. "You don't think that it's because his son Dean, the younger you, is here in his own time, over at…what was his name? Pastor Jim's? He's probably totally weirded out by the fact that you're here." Alex was still frowning. He couldn't quite get his head around John's behavior. "Uh... if you don't mind me asking," he murmured. "Did you and he... uh... did you get it on back when you were growing up? Before he died?"

Dean looked at Alex, "Is that all? My father made a deal with a fucking demon. He gave his life up for me. That's not the way it should have gone down, not for him. How could he do that? How could he not go down without a fight? He'd been chasing this thing almost all my life, and he just..." Dean climbed off the car. Alex didn't get it. No one got it.

"What difference would it make? In about ten years, that man in there is gonna be dead." Dean turned to face the Impala and stared down into the glossy black of the paint.

"In ten years' time, we could all be dead," said Alex, shrugging. "If you don't live every day as if it were your last, you're doing it wrong." He reached to pull Dean to him. "Listen, Dean, I care about you, and I know you don't care so much about me, but you know, it doesn't matter." He laid his cheek against Dean's and lifted his hand to stroke his lover's short hair. "You're in a painful place, because you're with your dad, and you know that in your time you've already lost him. You should be enjoying him while you can, because it's like you've been given a second chance, and that's not something most people get."

He frowned, then turned his face so that he could press his lips against Dean's roughly stubbled cheek. "I could love you, Dean, but I'm trying to tell you the stuff that'll ease you, even though it isn't what I want. Take it while it's on offer, baby. I'm not usually so altruistic."

"And what would you rather be telling me?" asked Dean, staring up at him.

"Oh, that's easy!" Alex snorted. "I'd sooner tell you to forget him and pick me, because fuck, man, I want you more than anyone I ever met."

"It's not a contest, Alex. My father is gonna die because of me. You don't..." Dean cut himself off. He grabbed Alex and kissed him, hard and deep. "If I didn't have to go back, I would pick you. But family is important to me. I just... I want to tell him not to do it." He moved to stand between Alex's outstretched legs."And when I get back, I'm gonna look you up. Make you remember me."

Dean's words were sweet, but Alex held off for a moment more. "In ten years time, I'll be old and wrinkly, and you'll be looking for young and hot," he murmured, clasping his hands behind Dean's neck. "And haven't you ever thought that, if your Dad loved you enough to give his life for yours, that it's the greatest gift he could give you?. What, man? You want to die rather than live? How come?"

Dean picked at Alex's shirt for a moment, then dropped his hands. "I'm unnatural. I've been close to death twice now. Each time I should have died, and each time a life was exchanged for mine. I shouldn't even be here."

"Have you ever thought that, if you're that lucky, there must be some kind of reason – something that you have to do? A destiny that you haven't yet fulfilled?" Alex bent his head and nuzzled against Dean's neck, kissing the soft skin and inhaling the scent that was Dean. "You've got a higher purpose."

Dean looked at Alex then shook his head, "No, only reason they like keeping me alive is to watch the emotional torture they put me through. There is no higher purpose for me. My brother is the special one." He wrapped his arms around Alex, leaning heavy against him as if he'd been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"You don't know that," said Alex softly. "You don't know what your purpose is, but I'm here to tell you that nothing ever happens without a purpose." He kissed Dean's ear and rocked him gently as if somehow that might soothe him. "And you may not know what it is, but I'm betting that it's something to do with that little brother of yours. Doesn't matter though," he murmured. "When it's time, you'll know, and then you'll realize that it was worth it after all."

Dean held him more tightly, "I do know. Ever talk with a demon? I did. She even slipped me demon tongue. But she told me they were relishing my pain. Said he was... suffering severely." Dean remembered Roy LaGrange's words. He'd said Dean was meant for something greater. That it wasn't his time. Whatever else he had been going to say was lost at that moment, because suddenly they could hear noises coming from the room. "Sound's like Dad's up."

Swearing under his breath, Alex tightened his own grip on Dean, running his hand down over the well-muscled back to cup his ass. "He would be. Why the hell couldn't he have stayed asleep for another few minutes?" He looked down at Dean with a smile. "Demon tongue, eh?" he said. "Bet that was an experience. Was it forked, or what?"

"Actually, dark hair, plush lips and a nice rack. No forked tongue though. If I'd been in the mood, I probably would have taken her up on more than that." Dean gently pushed away. "I got you some coffee." He walked around to the car and reached in, pulling out two cups. "Here," he handed one over to. Just then the door opened and John was standing there, a worried look upon his face for just a moment before it returned to its usual hardened expression. "Morning, dad, got you some coffee." He held it out to John.

Taking the cup, John took a drink and studied the other two with his lips pursed. "Get your asses in here," he said, and smiled slightly, much to Alex's surprise.

Sighing, Alex took the offered cup, wishing that John Winchester would somehow vanish in a puff of smoke and return to whatever hell he'd emerged from. He followed Dean as his lover headed back into the room and tried to keep his expression from showing how irritated he was with John's peremptory demands. "Fucker thinks he's in charge," he growled to himself. "Fat chance. All I need to do is get him in a dark alley, and he'll see the error of his ways."

As he passed John on his way back into the room, he glared at him, but said nothing, knowing that to say anything at all would upset Dean.

John took his cup from Dean, sipping it gratefully and merely smirking as Alex glowered. He closed the door, watching his son and that... that man. At least he hadn't managed to fuck his son the way he'd obviously wanted. He'd prevented that, even if it had secretly fulfilled a fantasy, a need of his own.

"You were up early. You usually like to sleep in," John remarked, looking at Dean.

"Things change." Dean sat down.

"Did you remember anything?"

Dean nodded, "I was up north of Dallas, checking on this cave the government was trying to hide. We'd heard of some happenings there and decided to check it out. Sam was above, I was down in the hole. Something attacked me."

"Do you think you could find it again, baby?" Alex was pressed close to Dean, fingers caressing his neck as he listened to him speaking. "We need to go there and check it out. Maybe we can find a way to send you back to your own time."

Staring at John, Alex willed him to listen. "This time isn't where he belongs. The fever... I think it's making him sick, being here."

Dean nodded, "I think so, too." He lifted his head to gaze up at his father, who was now crouching and reaching for his forehead. Dean tried to pull away but didn't quite make it.

"Alright, then we better get going, try and find it. You ride with me, Dean." He got to his feet, beginning to gather their limited things before throwing his own jacket on.

Dean rose to his feet, looking back at Alex, "You riding or driving?"

"Depends on whether you decide to go with him or come with me," murmured Alex, frowning at John's apparent assumption that he was in charge. "Just because he gives you orders doesn't mean that you have to obey, you know," he said, raising his eyebrows at Dean. "You could come with me, if you wanted."

Dean frowned at Alex but then gave him a little push, "You getting territorial on me?" He moved in close to him, "I know you don't like it, but he's my father. And I can talk to him about..." Dean looked away, "I think you would have been happier with my brother instead of me. I'm not worth the trouble." He turned and started heading out the door.

Alex swallowed back the bitterness that was choking him and followed Dean out of the room. "Maybe I will," he snapped. "And maybe I'll go find you at this Pastor Jim's place and make you mine, too, finally stop you from feeling so fucking worthless. Maybe I'll change history and your life will be completely different." He reached the Impala and stood beside the passenger's door, one hand on the hood. "Maybe you'll know just what you're worth. I can hope, can't I?"

Dean turned to face Alex, "You would, wouldn't you?" He stepped in closer, looking Alex over. "What am I worth to you?" He placed a hand near Alex's, fingers reaching for his. "Why don't you change my mind?" He leaned in to kiss him but stopped short.

"Tell me how, and I'll do it." Alex's voice was husky as he caught at Dean's neck, pulling him the rest of the way in and claiming the kiss. "Tell me what you want from me, and it's yours." He moved closer to Dean and let him go again, studying the handsome face and trying to see just what Dean wanted from him. "You're worth so much I can't even begin to tell you, man."

Dean had returned the kiss, not wanting it to end. He was breathing hard, green eyes holding green eyes. "I can't tell you, because I don't know. But... can you... can you make me feel like I'm worth as much as you say? See..." He grew silent for a moment before speaking more softly, unable to look at Alex as he did. "I always put my family first. Sam. Dad. I never..." He swallowed hard. "I'll ride with you," he said at last, and his voice was louder now, as if he'd made some kind of life-changing decision.

"I wish you and I could be together, Dean, I really do." Alex ran his fingers through Dean's short hair, stroking, caressing, not wanting to let go for even a moment. "You and I could be happy together. You're loyal, you're a fighter, you're loving and... and... I don't know what it is about you, but you make me feel so damned protective." He brushed a kiss over Dean's rough cheek and then licked, tasting salt, as if Dean had been crying. "I'm fighting a losing battle trying not to fall in love with you, you know."

"I can make it easy and piss you off," Dean offered with a smirk, but as he spoke he wrapped his arm around Alex to keep them close. "You know, the only reason I'm going back is because of my brother. If I could, I would stay." Dean leaned to kiss just below Alex's ear, only looking up when his father emerged from the room.

"Let's go, Dean," John said as he tossed his things into the back.

"He's riding with me," growled Alex, giving John a long, hard stare. "You can come too, if you want, but he's going with me." He rubbed his cheek against Dean's shoulder as he spoke, wanting to maintain a connection between the two of them and sensing that Dean might waver again, if his father was determined enough.

"Dean, get in the car," John commanded then looked at Alex, "And you, get in your car and head another direction."

"Dad, I'm riding with Alex, like it or not. Besides," he sighed. "If I go with you, I'll be too tempted to tell you things I shouldn't. And I can't tell you or it will change history."

"Dean," John walked around to face his son. "I said get in the car."

"Dad, I'm not Sam." Dean backed up and moved around with Alex to his car.

John blinked, looking after his son in utter astonishment.

"Why don't you listen to him for once?" Alex wasn't gloating, merely fascinated by John's confusion. "Why don't you accept that he's got needs of his own, and he isn't just a weapon for you to point and shoot?" He shook his head. "Somehow you've managed to raise him without any self-esteem. How could you do that to him? He's wonderful, and yet he thinks he's worthless."

Dean climbed into the passenger seat, waiting for Alex. He saw his father looking at him and he just stared back, his eyes sad but hard as well.

John blinked then looked at Alex, "He's my son, and I did the best I could with him. He is the man you love today because of that." He turned and walked around to climb into the Impala, starting it up and waiting to follow.

"Yeah, he is, but you've made sure that he's in a world of pain. He thinks all he's good for is to care of you and his little brother. He doesn't see any value in him for himself alone. What did you do to him? How did you make him like that?" Alex walked around the car and opened his door, turning back to look at John. "It's going to take forever to get him to believe that he deserves more than to be someone else's guardian."

He settled himself behind the wheel and smiled at Dean. "Ready to go, babe?" he asked.

Dean nodded, "Yeah, I'm ready," he darted a glance at where his father was still sitting and wondered just what that exchange had been about, before turning back to Alex. "What did you say to him?" he asked. Dean could tell that whatever it had been, his father was not happy about it.

"I asked him what he did to you to make you believe that you have no value." Alex didn't feel much like discussing it. He wanted to tell Dean how much he cared, wanted to tell him all the things that he would give him, but knew that it was useless even before he began. Dean wasn't from this time. He'd return to where he truly belonged soon enough, and Alex would be left behind, all his words unspoken, and his heart aching. "He didn't answer."

He started the car and pulled away, watching as the Impala fell in behind them. "Tell me about your little brother? Why does the kid need so much looking after? Is he…sick or something?"

"Wish I could say that." Dean smiled as he looked out the window, seeing Sam's face rather than the scenery that was sliding by. "He's just my little brother. I swore to take care of him after our mother died. And...and I promised my dad just before he died, too." Dean returned his eyes to Alex. "Sam is just... he's special to me, and I have to get back to him." He swallowed hard as he gazed at the man beside him. "You want to know what Dad did?" he added suddenly. "He always put Sammy first. He remembered his birthday. He pushed Sammy, and he gave him all the attention. I know why, but it still doesn't make it any easier."

"Yeah, I want to know why. Tell me, baby. Why was Sam the special one instead of you?" Alex flicked a glance at his rearview mirror. The Impala was still on their tail, so he would still be able to take John Winchester apart if he got the opportunity. "Seems to me that you're the special one. You've got it all, baby. Brains, beauty and strength. Fuck it, Dean, don't go back. Stay with me and let me show you, or take me with you when you find out how to get back?"

"The demon... it has a tie to us. It wants my brother for some reason, and the other children like him." Dean slumped in his seat. "Alex, would you go back with me? If you could?" He reached over, taking Alex's hand. Dean just wanted to dream a little. Dream that it was possible, and that he could be important to someone for himself, rather than just because he was the one taking care of Sam.

"Like a shot, baby." Alex turned to give Dean a lopsided smile. "There's nothing I love in this time. I'd follow you, if I could." He turned his eyes back to the road. "Would you want me to go with you? Would you let me?" He laughed. "And a thought just occurred to me. How come you're letting me drive my car? Are you still feeling feverish?"

Dean nodded reluctantly. "I am, but I'll be okay." He leaned and lowered himself down and even though it was uncomfortable he laid his head down on Alex's lap. "I wish you could go with me but... I promise, if you can't, I'll find you and make you remember me all over again." He looked up at Alex from where he lay and sighed softly, his hand rubbing along Alex's leg.

Alex nodded, smiling down at Dean. One hand dropped to caress Dean's short hair as they drove. "I'll wake you up when we get to Dallas, okay, love? Sleep now and maybe you'll feel a little better when you wake up." He looked down at his lover and gave a little sigh. Maybe he would be able to go into the future along with Dean, and maybe once there he and Dean would be able to have a life together. One thing was certain, John Winchester wouldn't be around to get in their way. Alex gave him a tender smile and then concentrated on his driving.

art 8: "Turn that Dormouse out of court!"

Dean closed his eyes, trying to sleep. He was lying against Alex's leg, and he could smell him, spicy and enticing as he snuggled back against the bend of his leg. He looked up, his eyes slightly glassy as the aspirin began to wear off and his temperature began to rise again. "Alex, I know my Dad loves me, but I wonder if he just got tired of fighting the demon. Why he gave up his soul to eternal damnation. Was he punishing himself for treating me the way he did or... was it just all for Sam? Was it all about knowing Sam would want me instead of him?"

"Maybe you're trying to read too much into things, baby. Maybe he loved you enough that he wanted you to live." Alex frowned. "Or maybe he knew and trusted you better than he knew and trusted himself. That's a possibility too." He laid his hand on Dean's neck and jumped. "Jesus Christ, you're burning up. We need to stop and get you some medicine. I don't want you dying when I could've had a nice new life with you in the world of the twenty-first century."

Dean didn't move but buried his head into Alex's leg. "Never had anyone care this much. Well, except for Sam maybe." He laughed a little harshly and didn't move even when the cars pulled into a gas station.

John climbed out and walked over. "Why are we stopping?" He asked, looking in to see just flushed and ill looking Dean was. "Jesus!" He opened the door and reached for his son. "Dean?"

"I'm okay, Dad." Dean answered.

"No you aren't, you're burning up." He pulled away, "Get some ice and aspirins," John ordered Alex.

"He knows, Dad," Dean pushed himself up and groaned as his head swam.

Alex didn't waste time in argument. He raced for the store attached to the gas station and returned a short time later bearing aspirin, ice, a cold pack and a couple of bottles of water. Getting back into the car, he shook out a couple of the pills and handed them to Dean with a bottle of the water. "I'd have got you coffee, but I figured that this would do you more good, babe," he murmured.

He studied John, who certainly seemed to be concerned about his son. There's definitely love there, he thought as he watched John's obvious distress. He cares about Dean, even though it isn't the Dean he knows. Making up his mind to pass on his observations to Dean once they were under way, he viewed John more kindly. "He'll be okay. I think we were right, it's being in the wrong time that's making him sick. It's some sort of temporal shock."

John had been checking Dean over, touching his hand to him, wiping his brow. Dean was indeed burning up, and it worried him. He couldn't let his son die, not in this time. There was no telling what it would do to his own Dean. For all he knew, his son could be sick right now. He should call Jim and see if the boys were okay, although he didn't want to worry them needlessly. Holding off, John stood as Alex returned.

Dean took the pills from Alex. "You hear of anything like this before?" His eyes shifted to his father.

"No," John shook his head. "I've heard of old spirits, but nothing like this." He pointed to the bottles, "You drink those up, keep that ice pack on you. We'd better hurry. How much further, Dean?"

Dean shook his head. "About another hour?" He looked an inquiry at Alex then nodded confirmation. "Yeah, I think about another hour."

"Let's get going then." John closed the door and went back to the Impala.

Dean watched his father as far as he could before the mirror lost sight of him, then sighed softly before dropping his head back down upon Alex's leg.

For a long moment, Alex sat and gazed down at him, wishing there was more that he could do. His heart ached for the beautiful boy whose head was resting in his lap. Alex could feel the heat from him through his jeans, and the place where Dean was resting felt like a furnace.

He bent double so that he could kiss Dean's ear and then stroked the sweaty hair, brushing it back from his forehead. "God, baby, you're so sick. Come on, let's try and get you home."

He started the car going and pulled back onto the road, watching as John put the Impala into gear and fell in behind him. "I'm scared for you, Dean. This isn't getting any better, is it?"

Dean closed his eyes, one hand running over Alex's leg. "I'll be okay once the aspirins kick in. Really," he looked up at Alex. "Is Dad behind us?" He knew he really should crawl into the back seat, but Alex's proximity made him feel somehow comforted. "Hey at least I'm not throwing up," he grinned.

"Yeah, he's right on my tail," nodded Alex, glancing in the rear-view mirror. "You're safe from my wiles, I promise. Papa's on the job." He shook his head and grinned. "And if you throw up in my lap, my sweet, I'll do something unpleasantly deviant to your ass." He chuckled out loud at Dean's little snort. "It'll probably involve my strong right hand and involve making it glow red."

"You threatening to spank me? Haven't had that since I was five. I have to tell you though, it's not much of a deterrent." He chuckled. "Hey, Alex, you don't think your FBI guy and his redhead will be looking for me do you? I mean, not that they would worry about me, but the last thing Dad and I need is the FBI on our tails."

"Depends on whether he realizes about your driver's license, babe." Alex mused, knowing that Mulder, once he got the bit between his teeth, was an unstoppable force. "He's seen it, so he's got it filed in his brain, and his eidetic memory tells me that he could someday pull it out of his memory and start to obsess, but I can't imagine why he would think of it." He fell silent, trying to find a comment that would soothe Dean. "Don't worry. If he comes looking, he won't find anything. You'll soon be back in... in whatever year you fell out of. Think, love, do you remember the Feds looking for you when you were sixteen or so?"

Dean shook his head, "No, because it was the first time I ever went on a hunt with my dad. Sam was in the back seat, and I nailed that thing. We drug it into the woods and burned it. That was when I knew I was meant to do this. I never looked back. You have to be a little twisted to hunt, you know." Dean smiled up at Alex. "But I don't think he will look for me. He didn't seem that interested. He didn't seem all that concerned I couldn't remember anything or my driver's license. And I don't think he will be able to find us anyway."

"Let's hope you're right." Alex nodded, pushing his foot down and accelerating along the highway. "Mulder's a law unto himself, but I don't see that he could do anything to you, even if he did track your family down. You're a minor, and even if you go killing ghosts and stuff, there actually isn't a law against it." He smiled down at Dean. "There's nothing in the constitution that protects poltergeists."

"Yeah but there is a law against credit card fraud, impersonating officers and the like, which is what we do. He can get our Dad on that, and where would that leave me and Sam in this time line? I mean, who is to say this is even the same time line as where I'm from. I don't remember any of this happening, and Dad sure as hell didn't talk about it if it did. There were a lot of things Dad didn't talk about, didn't tell us, especially about Sammy."

Dean pushed up from Alex's leg, sitting up only to slump in the seat. "God, Alex, I love the man, I really do but... but what I learned about him. What he told me before he died. I want to yell at him. I want to beat him 'til he can't get up for what he did to us. It's... It's been getting harder and harder to get out of bed every morning carrying the secret he gave me. I feel like we've been cheated. We lost our father to his crusade against the demon, and it didn't matter what we wanted or needed. All my life, all I ever wanted was his love. To be a kid and grow up to be what I wanted. I wasn't allowed to. It was like... like I was forced into this without even knowing. Now, I know I thought that I was meant for this but after his death... I don't know any more. I don't want to do it any more. All I want to do is take my brother and hide away, keep him from this evil. Protect him. But we'll never be able to run or hide from it. That's what really sucks. I never asked for this life, but now, thanks to Dad, it's a part of me. Part of my brother. And... and I hate him for it." He looked over to Alex. "I love him, but I hate him too. How fucked up is that?"

"Not half as fucked up as you might think, baby." Alex looked into his rear-view mirror again, checking that the Impala was still following and nodding when he saw that it was. "Your dad certainly seems to be an extreme case, doesn't he? He's so fierce about you - don't think I didn't realize he was trying to protect you from me last night. I think he's kind of possessive of you, and I can tell that he loves you, but he does tend to treat you more like a soldier in his private army than a well-loved kid."

Alex found himself playing with Dean's hair as he spoke, fingers stroking and caressing him as they continued their journey. "What did he tell you about your brother that's upset you so much?" he asked. "Wanna tell me?"

Dean played with Alex's jeans, not answering at first. "I can't," he whispered in looking up to Alex. "If and when I return..." He swallowed hard. "Dad has never been possessive of me. Sammy, but not me. He only loves me, so I can be there to take care of Sam. The Demon told me as much."

"The Demon was trying to hurt you, idiot boy," said Alex, wanting to give Dean what comfort he could. "You believe a demon? You're nuts. Even I can tell that your dad loves you - maybe he loves you in kind of the wrong way as well, because he sure wanted to get inside your pants, baby. He was pretty damned up front about that!"

He fell silent, wondering if Dean could relate to his words at all. "Take it from me, the guy is completely besotted by you, and I am too. Boy, you got people fighting over you."

"The demon was trying to kill me, not hurt me. And I would have died if it wasn't for Dad. I should be dead. I was dead," Dean whispered. "And our family has been fucked up for a very long time." Dean twisted himself so he could lie against the door, watching Alex, resting his head against the glass. "It was about possession, not love."

"I disagree. He was trying to hurt you in whatever way he could. He could've killed you much more easily than that, but it wouldn't have left you hurting. That's what he wanted - to cause all of you the maximum pain, and sure, you could've died, but only slowly, hating your dad and your brother for making you the odd one out. Am I getting warm? Am I getting close?" Alex gave Dean a tender smile. "You have to figure that a demon would say the one most damaging thing that would hurt you most." He smiled at Dean. "And they lie. Isn't the devil the father of lies?"

Dean nodded, "They do lie. They do. But there is always some truth behind their lies." Dean looked up to Alex. "We there yet?"

"What are you, six?" asked Alex, laughing. "We're about twenty miles out of Dallas. At this rate we'll be there in about a half hour, supposing you're able to pinpoint the place for us." He kissed the tip of his finger and transferred the kiss to Dean's cheek. "Although I don't really want to let you go home."

"There is no sure thing – no real reason to think that it will happen," Dean answered. "It could have been the jump point being as I ended up in the north. Dad could be right that we'll need to find those vortex energy fields out in Arizona."

They drove on. Dean dozed for a while, and awoke when Alex shook his shoulder gently.

Straightening himself up at last, Dean held his head feeling sick and more than a little dizzy. "Turn into this neighborhood. It was toward the back of the estate. There was a playground that they'd built over it. I remember, because Sam and I had to dig." Dean settled back in the seat, casting a glance back towards the Impala in the review mirror. He really needed to talk to his Dad. He needed to tell him not to do what he'd done. He had to do it for Sammy.

Alex followed Dean's instructions, pulling his car over to the right to enter the subdivision that Dean had indicated. He felt some weird heaviness hanging over him, as though he were racing headlong towards impending doom, but he couldn't say what or why. He drove along the road Dean had identified, until he came to a vacant lot that was fenced off. Parking, he turned to look at Dean, taking in the flushed cheeks and the heavy-eyed look. "Jesus, boy, you need to be in bed, and not for that reason, either," he murmured. "Can we wait and do this tomorrow, after you've rested? There's no playground here. I guess they built it after this time."

Dean pushed open the car door, looking over the area. He half expected Sam to come walking out of the air and smile at him, but he wasn't anywhere to be seen. "It's right here, I know it." He started walking in the direction of the place he remembered.

"Dean?" John came up quickly to him and grabbed his son's arm.

"It's right here," Dean insisted. "I know it."

"Jesus, boy, you're burning up," John whispered. "You need to lie down."

"No," Dean pushed him away and walked on. "It's right here. There was a hole right here," He wandered around, looking like a lost little boy.

Alex looked at John and shrugged, spreading his hands in a helpless gesture. "Your guess is as good as mine," he murmured. "He's really sick. I think he's disoriented from the fever, but he's the only one who knows where he was, so we'd better help him."

He followed Dean without waiting for John, catching up with him and slipping an arm around his shoulders. "You said that you and Sam had to dig, so maybe we'll need to do that too. Don't forget that, in my time, you haven't actually been here yet."

Dean looked about then up at Alex as his father joined them. "Well, there is no neighborhood here, but I guess I should go get the shovels." John's voice was strained as he turned back to the car to go fetch them. He glanced back at Dean for a moment, his expression unreadable, before turning back.

Dean pulled off his jacket. The cooler air felt better upon his heated skin. "Let's get this started."

Flushed skin and freckles, and really nice biceps distracted Alex, made him drool and caused him to step in closer, slide his arm around Dean's shoulders and kiss his neck. "Just show me where you want me to dig, gorgeous one, and I'll do what I do best!" Alex gave him a lopsided grin and took a shovel from John, who was frowning at him in a manner that made Alex chuckle and kiss Dean.

Dean kissed Alex in return, then moved away and went to scout out the exact spot. He finally looked up and then around before he turned call to the two men, "I think this is the spot." Grabbing a shovel, he was starting to dig when he felt his father's hand on his shoulder.

"Dean, you need to rest."

Dean shook his head and shook off his father's hand. "No, you told me I had to watch after Sammy, and that is what I have to do. He's all I..." Dean stopped, staring at his father with panic in his eyes.

"Let him do some of it, love," called Alex, looking at John meaningfully and then moving to start digging where Dean had indicated. John soon moved over to take the shovel from his son and began to dig, cursing softly under his breath. Alex sighed, looking at the two men. He ached for Dean - wanted desperately for his lover to be happy. He knew that he'd have to let him go if he returned to his own time, but he was unsure what to do about John and wondered if telling John what was going to happen would make a difference to the way their lives might unfold. Finally, up to his knees in the hole they were excavating, he laid down his shovel and went to Dean.

"Tell him, baby. Tell him exactly what's going to happen, and we'll see if that stops it."

Dean had been pacing, holding his head and mumbling to himself. He felt sick to his stomach. His head was hurting, and he knew that it was not because of the fever, either. He looked up when Alex approached him, closely resembling a lost puppy. Dean could never truly pull that look off like Sam could but his pain was evident.

He looked down, "What if it doesn't matter? What if..." Dean raised his head to look at Alex, "He's like me? Tired. The weight upon him... And Sammy..." Dean lowered his head again. He turned up to the sky again, avoiding Alex's gaze as if it might burn him. "I guess I have to try, huh?" Dean knew that if he went back he'd already had problems handling things. He suspected that it would only get worse. He just couldn't do it.

He stepped closer to Alex, "Thank you," he whispered, leaning in and giving him a kiss. "I won't forget this. I won't forget you." He cleared his throat, making it obvious he wasn't comfortable admitting things like that, and then he stepped around Alex, heading over to his father. "Dad, we need to talk."

Part 9: "It Isn't Respectable To Beg"

Hanging back out of earshot to give the two of them privacy, Alex watched as Dean crouched beside the hole, talking to his father. It was clear on John's face that he didn't like what he was hearing. The two spoke animatedly. John was apparently holding back his anger, while Dean was smarting off, or so it seemed. It was also clear John was not too crazy about what Dean was telling him, although he did seem to be listening. And then he was cupping his hand around Dean's neck, saying something to him. And then their foreheads were resting against each other. The tenderness and love was clear to see.

Dean had started to climb out of the hole, when John suddenly grabbed at him, and the ground started to give under him. Dean scrambled to hold on, "ALEX!"

The cry made Alex jump, and he raced over to where the two of them had begun to fall down into the hole that had suddenly appeared. "Dean! Hold on. Don't let him go, John! I'm coming."

Dropping to his knees, Alex lay full length in the dirt, reaching over to find and capture Dean. John was hanging on grimly to his son's legs, and Alex grabbed Dean's belt, pulling hard to help him climb back up to where the ground was stable. When he was finally able to reach Dean's hands and help him out of the hole, the three of them knelt in the dust, panting.

"Okay, love, given that you've been down there - or maybe I should say that you will go down there in about ten years - let's develop a plan, before you just put yourself into danger all over again."

John was looking down the hole, panting before turning his head to Dean. "Well, you did say that there was a hole." He got to his feet and grinned a somewhat strained grin. "I'll go get the rope."

Dean peered down into the hole as his father moved around him, giving him a pat on his shoulder. He didn't look away, merely covered his dad's hand with his own.

"Alex...There's something down there. Waiting. I remember." Dean's voice was soft, and a little hoarse, now.

"What do you mean, something?" Alex frowned. "Do you suppose I should come down there with you?" He drew his gun. "Actually, I think I'd better. If it's alien technology, I'm the one best equipped to deal with it. I've been in touch with the greys and the rebels as well. I can maybe keep them from doing anything too drastic to you." He fixed John with a glare. "And before you tell me it's your job, you'd better think about the two kids waiting for you back at your buddy's place. You can't afford to get yourself hurt. I can."

"I wasn't going to argue with you," John pointed out, still with his smile firmly in place.

Dean looked at his father. There was that Winchester way. A silent speech the two of them seemed to share, and even Sam seemed to have developed it in recent months, since they'd been thrown together again, although Dean was more like their Mom in other ways.

As Alex watched, Dean grabbed the rope and started tying it into a sling. He started down.

John looked at Alex. "Aliens? I'd say that was hard to believe but in our line of work, anything is possible. And there is lore..." He coughed. "You just watch his back." John began to lower Alex down after his son.

Down in the hole, Dean was looking about. "The thing that attacked me had claws. It scratched at me." He peered up at his father one last time before turning to go into the darkness. This time he had his gun out.

"Holy shit," whispered Alex, looking around himself at what appeared to be a cave of some sort. "Where was the thing that attacked you, dude? I don't want to see you fall prey to a grey. Let me go in front, please." He pulled out his own pistol and moved up behind Dean, frowning. "Don't you think you should get a flashlight or something, before you go diving into the darkness? I have many talents, but I can't see in pitch black, and I've never been able to resurrect the dead."

"Dad?" Dean shouted up and without a word, a flashlight was dropped down. Dean tinkered with it for a moment, before it came to life. He shone it around, first down at his feet and then out along the walls. "I don't know where it came from. The damn thing came out of nowhere." Dean, as usual, paid no attention to Alex about letting him go in front to protect him. "Just keep an eye on my back. It attacked from behind."

He started walking, then frowned. "Something doesn't feel right." He stopped and looked around again. "We heard about this kid. He was possessed. It's why we came down here." He turned around towards a tunnel to one side. "This way," he said and started to walk again, aiming for the area where he'd been when he was attacked. "I remember noticing something along one of the walls. Almost metallic."

"Show me," murmured Alex, turning so that he was facing away from Dean so that he could watch his lover's back. "Go on. Let's find the place that'll take you home, love." He smiled. "Don't suppose I could come with you, could I?"

Dean started walking around, "I think that's up to you. But would you really want to go back with me? Hell, I could turn out like Dad and eventually piss you off." Dean rounded a corner. Things were coming back to him rapidly now. "It was around here," he said, excitement in his voice as he started to run his hand along the stones.

"I want to stay with you, Dean. I feel like I'm just starting to get to know you, and that you and I could be really good together." Alex shrugged. "God knows, I've got nothing to stay for." He jumped, peering into the darkness and holding his gun at the ready. "Thought I saw something just over there. Stand still for a moment."

Dean stayed still, but twisted his body around to shine the light towards the area Alex was indicating. He kept his back to the rocks this time. Nothing was going to come up behind him. It was all the training his dad had given him that made him scan the area for anything out there in the darkness, even though the flashlight was shining in another area.

Alex relaxed again. The flashlight had shown them nothing untoward, and he heaved a sigh of relief. "I think it's clear for now. Those things are too big to merge into the shadows when you've got that kind of light, so we're safe to proceed." He followed Dean deeper into what now seemed to be a tunnel. There was a strange, acrid smell to the place, and Alex felt more and more jittery with every step they took, but he stuck close to Dean, alert for whatever might want to jump the two of them.

Dean walked along, his light leading the way. He stopped at the area where he had been attacked before and shone his light around. "It was right here." He started feeling along the walls till his hand ran into something cold, and his flashlight reflected off metal.

It felt to Alex as if his heart skipped a beat. This could be it. Dean might be gone from this time any moment, and he was suddenly dreading the thought of losing him. He was about to say something to that effect, when there was the sudden rustling sound from the shadows that lurked deeper in the tunnel. "Wanna give me the light?" he asked. "There's something to the right of us, but I can't see what. You need both hands to do whatever it is you have to do to make that gizmo work. I'll make sure it doesn't get you."

Dean handed it over, "I didn't know how I got it to work. I was fighting the damn thing that jumped me." Dean looked at the metal plate and started beating on it, hoping something would work. He heard the movement suddenly and turned slowly to see a lizard- like creature, its eyes glowing in the beam of the flashlight.

"Stay back, you ugly fucker!" Alex had already spotted the creature, and he called out, training his gun on it. When it continued to advance, he fired and watched with great satisfaction as the creature's head exploded, spattering the wall behind it. "Got it," he crowed. "Hey, if you disappear into the future, let me tell you that I'm gonna come looking for you when the time comes around. I'll never forget you, Dean."

Dean jumped as the creature came forward and then turned his head away as its head shattered. He blinked and looked at Alex in absolute astonishment. "Aliens? That was an alien? You don't mean that those bastards are real?" He shook his head. "Wow! You will come looking for me? You promise?" He tipped his head towards Alex. "Dude, we just met and you..." He wobbled a bit.

"What can I say," smirked Alex. "I'm a decisive sort of guy." He swept the flashlight around, eyes constantly searching for signs of another alien, but all seemed silent for now. "What happened when you were here before? What did you do? We need to re-create it, because it's dangerous down here. There's bound to be more of those things around, and they're evil bastards with toxic blood."

Dean looked around. "I don't know what I did. I keep telling you that. I was fighting the damn thing. I fell backwards and hit something, and then I ended up here – well not here, but in this time." He sighed and turned his back to the device. "So... shall we fight?"

"Fight?" Alex cast a quizzical glance at Dean. "I don't want to fight with you. Just keep on working at recreating the situation. You want me to throw you against it?" he asked Dean. Maybe you need to hit it with force, or maybe you need an alien to trigger it." He strode forward and grabbed hold of the dead creature's arm, dragging it back to where Dean still stood. "All right. Let's try this," he said, and jabbed the clawed arm at Dean. "Do whatever you were going to do before."

Dean made a face at the alien, leaning back a little. He grabbed it and took it from Alex, tossing it aside. He then grabbed Alex, positioning him before him. "Okay, come at me. Throw yourself into me. All your weight. Maybe it'll take the both of us." He took a deep breath and psyched himself up to be ready for it.

Nodding his assent, Alex frowned as he concentrated and took a breath, readying himself to rush Dean. As he started forward, there was a hissing growl from behind them, and a second alien dived forward, clawing at Alex's back as he hit Dean, crushing him against the metal plate in the wall.

Dean was trying to reach for the gun when he was slammed back. He held Alex tightly to him, going cold all over, just like before. Dean felt darkness flashing over him, before both he and Alex fell to the ground. Dean lay there for a moment, winded, until it he heard Sam's voice in the distance. He blinked, feeling a weight upon him. He lifted his head to see what it was, and saw Alex. "Alex?" he whispered.

"Jesus!" Alex's eyes were crossed, the pupils blown, and he shook his head as if trying to clear the cobwebs out of it. "Dean? Oh, God, Dean, what happened? I've got a mother of a headache." He rolled to the side, trying to get up, but then paused. "Dean? Where are we? Did it work? Are we both in the future?"

Dean rolled over, his head aching as well. He reached for Alex, half-expecting him to disappear in a puff of smoke. He was real. Alex was real, but so was Sam's voice. He looked at his watch and only two minutes had passed. "Fuck," he whispered as he rose to his feet. He guessed the alien that had attacked them was the same one that had originally gone through the gate with Dean, and it had somehow come back through with them.

He helped Alex to his feet and then walked around to the opening, looking up to see a very worried Sam. "Hey, Sammy. I'm okay. but…" he looked back at Alex. "It's a long story, just... let's get out of here."

"Dude, what the hell...?" Sam's eyes grew round as he saw that Dean had a companion. "Who's that, and what's he doing down there?"

Hauling on the rope to help the two men climb out, Sam was bursting with questions. "I don't understand, Dean. Where did he come from? Does he live down there or something?"

"Not exactly," grinned Alex. He fell silent, taking in Dean's brother's size and nodding. He could see why Dean might be upset to lose him. He was hot.

"Come on, dude. Dad's waiting for us. He wants us to go on to Wichita today, if we can. There's a poltergeist that keeps trashing a movie theater there." Sam coiled up the rope and began walking back towards the Impala.

Dean grabbed at Sam, "Wait, what? Sam?" Dean glanced back at Alex and shook his head. "What do you mean Dad is waiting? How can he be?"

"Huh? Dude, what are you smoking?" Sam looked completely confused. Alex shook his head and shrugged, shaking his head. "He was up visiting Pastor Jim, but he just called, and he's on his way down to check in with us. He told me he was gonna be at the diner up the road in about fifteen minutes, so we need to get moving, if we want to go hunt this critter together."

"Pastor Jim? But... but he's dead? So is Dad. What the hell have you been smoking, dude," His eyes flickered from Alex back to Sam. "Stop kidding about this. It's not funny."

Sam folded his lips together and carried on walking, not saying anything more. When they arrived at the Impala, his eyes widened as Dean held the door open for Alex, and he frowned to see Alex get in. "Dude, who is he, and why are we giving him a ride?"
"His name is Alex Krycek and... it's part of that long story I need to tell you and dad. And I'm only saying it once so," Dean gave a shrug and climbed in. He leaned over once Sam got in and kissed him under his cheekbone. Starting the car, he pointed it towards the diner up the road, and Dean's heart nearly stopped as he saw his dad's truck in the parking lot. The car had barely rolled to a stop before Dean was scrambling to get out.

Watching Dean's enthusiasm, Sam was astonished. "I know he loves Dad, but anyone would think that he hadn't seen him for months or something. What's with him today? He's been weird since we got up."

"You'll find out," said Alex with a smirk. "I don't want to ruin his story by telling you in advance, so come on, let's go join him."

They didn't even make it to the door before John stepped out. Dean stopped dead in his tracks. He just stared at the man, his eyes filling with tears. Dad was alive. Really alive. His chest was rising and falling as he breathed. His skin was not pale. John Winchester was alive. It wasn't until John started to move toward him that Dean finally managed to make himself lurch forward as well, and then both men met each other in an embrace. "Dad," Dean whispered, holding him tightly as if he feared that when he let go, the man would vanish.

"See, I did listen to you, Dean," John whispered into Dean's ear. He held Dean tightly, lifting his eyes to meet Alex's. He gave a vestige of a smile to his rival.

As Sam and Alex walked up together, John Winchester released Dean and turned to lead the way into the diner. "I'm buying, guys. What'll it be?"

The appearance of Dean's father, alive and well, had made Alex smile a little at his lover's happiness. He felt happy himself. He was pretty sure that he'd escaped the Syndicate and that he would be able to start a new life here, possibly even with Dean. He really liked Dean, even though he'd only known him for a short while. Following the Winchesters into the restaurant, he thought that almost anything was possible from now on. "Coffee first," he murmured. "I want to try the coffee of the future."

Dean sat down, next to Alex but across from his father. He couldn't tear his eyes from him. The waitress appeared, and he ordered coffee as well. He still felt like he was in a dream. His hand went down under the table and rested upon Alex's leg. His own leg stretched out, touching his father and he wondered if Dad remembered that night, because it was all too fresh in Dean's mind.

"So what was down there? Where did he come from? Why did you look so startled when you came out of that pit?" Sam was bouncing in his seat, stirring vast quantities of sugar into his coffee as he spoke. "I want to go down there and have a look around, too."

"I really don't think that's a good idea." Alex didn't say any more than that. He was busily sipping coffee and feeling the warmth of Dean's hand through the fabric of his jeans. "Are you gonna tell him, love, or are you gonna keep him going out of his mind?" Alex's smile was all warmth as it rested on Dean's face. "I assume you haven't ever said anything," he murmured, looking at John.

John sipped his coffee. He shook his head, "No, I didn't." He placed his hand upon Sam's leg as if that would hold Sam down. "Sam, there was something we haven't ever hunted before down there. An alien. I'm assuming you two killed it?" Dean nodded.

"There was a device down there. It transported me through time," Dean continued with the story for Sam. "And Alex here helped me come back home again." Of course, no one mentioned the sex, or the fact that. John was supposed to be dead and how all of it had affected Dean.

"I'm kinda wondering if I'll get sick like you did, baby," murmured Alex. "You seem to have recovered pretty well, but for a while there I thought that I was going to be able to cook an egg on your forehead, you were so hot." He smiled at Dean, reaching to touch his forehead to demonstrate. "I guess that there can only be one of me in this time, and I'm it. I erased my own history by coming forward with you." Grinning cheekily, he drained his coffee mug. "Bet that what I'm getting up to here is far more interesting than the crap I could have been doing."

Dean smiled softly then looked at his brother. "It's good to be here. It really, really is." He felt as though a weight had been lifted off him, and he wondered if what Dad had told him about his brother was still true. But Dad was here. Alex was here, things were going to be brighter. Dean felt he could breathe once again.

He leaned into Alex. "I just want to eat and get some sleep. I feel all worn out."

"You feel pretty good to me," murmured Alex, smiling as he ran his hand along Dean's arm, much to Sam's wide-eyed amazement. "But I know what you mean. The stress of the last couple of days has been truly monumental." He smirked at Sam, winked and gestured to the menu. "We need to eat something and then go crash, I think. That okay with you?" he asked, favoring John with a smile that was about as far from innocent as one could get.

John picked up the menu, ordered for his boys and let them know so with a look. He then ordered his own meal and left Alex to fend for himself. "I nearly forgot how arrogant you can be," John informed Alex.

Under the table, Dean was kicking at Sam, teasing him, before laying his head against the glass of the window beside him. He was looking out as his eyes slowly drifted closed.

John looked over at his handsome son, noticing how the sun glistened off him, creating shadows that made his eyes seem hollow. He looked extremely tired, and a shadow was lifting that seemed to have been on him for a long time. John remembered what Dean had told him, and he felt suddenly guilty.

Alex had ordered a chicken sandwich for himself. He turned back towards Dean, besotted with his young lover, and noticed that Dean was dropping off to sleep where he sat. He slipped his arm around the sleepy hunter and tugged him so he could lay his head on Alex's shoulder. "You need to go to bed now, baby. Let me get us a room, and you can eat later, okay?"

He eyed John again. Dean was old enough to choose. John could make as much fuss as he wanted, but, in the end, Dean was his; Alex just knew it.

Dean leaned against Alex, still half asleep. "I'm really tired. We staying anywhere, Dad?" he asked, looking over at Sam, and feeling horribly guilty at the way he was fading away.

"Sammy? Get our orders to go will you, son? I'm gonna get Dean to the room," John handed Sam the money before sliding out of the seat to reach for Dean, "C'mon, boy."

Alex was already maneuvering himself between Dean and John. He got Dean on his feet and guided him to the door. Their room wasn't far, just around the back of the diner which was attached to the motel. John accompanied them over and then unlocked the door to reveal two queen size beds. "This is Sam and Dean's room," John informed Alex. "You'll be staying with me, next door."

Dean frowned, but quickly went over to the bed and fell on it. "I don't care who sleeps where. I just want a pillow and some sleep," he muttered.

Alex gazed at his lover and nodded, biting back his disappointment. "Okay, dude, you catch some z's, and I'll see you in the morning." He bent to kiss Dean and then straightened. "Okay, let's go," he murmured, nodding to John. "You and I have some things to discuss."

Dean kissed Alex back, murmuring softly to him, "I'm sorry, Alex. Come see me in the morning." He kissed him quickly again before yawning and snuggling down.

John studied his boy before lifting his eyes to Alex. "We probably do." He turned and left the room just as Sam arrived at the door bearing their food. "Take care of your brother, okay, Sammy?" He took the two offered bags from his younger son. "And make sure you eat," he commanded him before leading the way next door to the room that he was going to share with Alex. He walked in, closing the door behind them. He put the bags on the table, laying a line of salt at the door before doing anything else. He nodded at Alex, an unspoken invitation to come and eat.

Alex took the food, setting it out on the table, the burger and fries John had ordered on one side of it and his sandwich and fries on the other. He reversed the chair and sat astride it, gazing inquisitively at John. "I get that you'd rather your boys stayed yours, but I'll give you fair warning that I want Dean. He's going to make up his own mind, and I intend to be the one he wants. I really like him, and I think I could love him given half a chance. Don't you want him to be happy?"
"I do want him to be happy. He's happy with his family," John sat down. "You shouldn't have come through. See, after you vanished with Dean, I looked into you, Alex. You aren't supposed to be here. You died. That's why you aren't getting sick like Dean was. He was sick because there was already a Dean in that time. There is no Alex Krycek here. He got himself killed." John sat back.

"Look, he loves you, and I won't ever come between him and his family, but you have to let him have something of his own, too. Besides, you don't really expect me to jump back into that tunnel and go back there, knowing that I'm going to die? Would you?" Alex laughed softly. "Hmm... now let me see. Stay here with a beautiful lover or return to my own time to die? That's not much of a choice, now, is it?"

"I'm not saying you should leave. I'm just saying, you keep that life of yours in the past. Don't you dare bring it around my boys. You do, I'll cut your balls off. Clear? And if you hurt either one of my boys, your dick goes next." John took a huge bite of his burger but still managed to look forbidding as he chewed on it.

"I could say that I'm not scared of your threats," murmured Alex, lowering his lashes and smiling. "But to be honest, I do want to make a clean start, and I've got no intention of hurting either of them. I already told you, I want Dean, and he's worth any price. Why don't you just give me a chance to show you - and him - what I can do? I won't let him down; I guarantee it."

"Guarantees are shit, Alex. Promises too. Your actions will say and mean more than those words. But you must know that you aren't the only one who loves Dean. Sam does too. It's something you are just going to have to accept. Yes, our family is…fucked up, I guess you could say. But I'm telling you now, and telling you straight, don't come between us." He took another bite of his burger. "And Alex, you want a clean start, you need to be honest with us. And understand, I'm gonna push you. Push you as hard as I do my boys to make you what they are today, a hunter."

A flush stole over Alex's features as he realized what John was saying. "You're gonna let me stay with you guys?" he murmured. "That's terrific." He picked at his fries, dunking each one in ketchup before devouring it. "And I'm not a novice. I can shoot straight and I went through Quantico. I'm not unfit. I don't know Sam, yet, but I will. He seemed pleasant enough. Is he gonna hate me?"

"I don't know, that's entirely up to Sammy," John leaned back in his chair, taking a drink. "And I know you're not a novice. I've seen your handiwork, but you aren't going to live that life any more. Not around my boys. Well, some of it. Your other skills will come in handy, because we're not exactly legal either. But yes, I'm gonna let you stay, if you do as I say. You need to learn to listen, like my boys." He leaned forward again, "Alex... all your past connections, Mulder, the F.B.I., all of it, that's over. Understand? Don't you go back to that. From here on out, you're like us, under the radar."

For a moment, anger flared in Alex Krycek's eyes, but then he seemed to relax and all the tension drained from his body. "That's the last thing I want to do. You'll never know how much I loathe the man that was my boss. I was trapped into working for him. He painted it as some sort of service to my country, when actually all it was, was some evil old men trying to sell out the whole world. I hope that he's dead by now, but if he isn't, I've got no plans to go back to him. This is my second chance, and I'm gonna take it."

John nodded, "Good. Then we both understand where we are." He turned his attention to finishing up his meal, finally rising from the table to head into the bathroom to clean up, calling back over his shoulder, "Alex, why don't you go check on Dean? Make sure that Sammy isn't messing with him."

He knew that was what he wanted. He knew he wanted to be with Dean, and now he knew that as long as he behaved, John would let it happen.

"I would, but he was so damned exhausted. I don't want to run the risk of waking him up. He needs his sleep, because I intend to keep him awake some when he and I do finally get together." Alex gave a sigh and stretched. "Besides, don't you think that Dean needs to have a private conversation with his brother? I expect that Sam will have questions for him. I imagine that he is going to want to know about me, for a start."

"True, Sam was giving him a lot of confused looks, wasn't he?" John came back out and then sat down upon his bed. He looked up at Alex as he was taking his boots off. "Then maybe you should get some rest as well."

"Yeah, I guess that wouldn't be a bad idea," said Alex, flopping down on the bed. "I'm a little out of it. Dean was worrying me with that fever he was running. You really think that it was due to his other self being present in that time? That's so weird - kinda like really bad science fiction." He yawned. "I may just catch a few minutes myself."

John left Alex to rest while he showered. When he came back, he climbed into his own bed and soon drifted off to sleep. Dead to the world, he didn't hear the door open carefully sometime later in the night or the padding of bare feet and the creak of the mattress of Alex's bed as Dean climbed in beside Alex. Dean snuggled up, arms tight around Alex.

Alex had been deeply asleep, and didn't wake at first. What woke him in the end was Dean's breath against the back of his neck, puffing warm on his skin. He gave a sigh and rolled to face his lover. "Alone at last," he whispered. He pressed in to capture Dean's mouth with his own, stretching his body out to cover the intruder.

Dean cupped the back of Alex's head, his other arm slipping more completely around him as they kissed, and he moaned softly, "Not completely, Dad is still in the other bed." He slid his hand down Alex's body so he could cup his fine ass. "Wanna go to the back seat of my car?"

"Hell, yes," whispered Alex, drawing a deep breath into lungs that didn't seem to know what to do with it. "Anywhere, as long as I can be with you right now, Dean Winchester."

Dean pulled back, slipping out of bed. He crept out past his father's bed and opened the door to go barefoot out to the Impala. He opened the door, climbing in with Alex behind him and cracked the windows. "Damn, feel like a teenager back here. I haven't done it in the backseat in a long while." He was still whispering, although he wasn't quite sure why. He turned to Alex, grabbing him and pulling him in as he lay back in the seat and began to kiss him all over again.

It seemed to Alex as if his luck was finally going to change at last. Dean had his arms around Alex, and Alex hung on for the ride, savoring the feel, the taste and the scent of this man he'd found and fallen for so long ago. Kisses were sweet; Dean's lips soft and knowing on his own as their tongues twined together. He was clad only in T-shirt and boxers, and the heat from Dean's body was intoxicating as they stretched out on the leather seat. Dean was only dressed in his underwear too, and Alex's hands swept up and roamed the satiny skin, learning all the places that would make his lover gasp or sigh. "I think your dad is gonna let me live, at least for this week," he murmured.

"He's feeling generous, or more like guilty," Dean mumbled against Alex's lips. "Let's not talk about him right now." Dean kissed Alex again, reaching down to pull at the hem of his shirt and pull it up over his head, tossing it up and over into the front seat. They were now bare chest to bare chest, and Dean couldn't believe just how wonderful that felt. "Damn! You're so sexy. I want to feel you inside me this time. I want to hear you grunt with each thrust. C'mon, Alex, make me feel it; make me feel you."

"Oh, fuck, I can do that!" Alex rolled them so that he was lying half on top of Dean, gazing down at him with smiling, avid eyes. He couldn't stop kissing Dean, licking and sucking and nipping at his companion's lips, sinking into his mouth and moaning at the shivering lust he felt. Dean was pressing up against him, writhing so that the friction from his body sent thrills through him, and Alex gasped, knowing that he wouldn't last much longer if his lover kept that up. He pushed down the boxers Dean was wearing still and grabbed his knee, lifting his leg so that he could slide his fingers along the crevice between Dean's buttocks. "Damn! We need lube," he groaned.

Dean's breath was heavy. Hands stroked up and down feeling the muscles as they moved under hot skin. Alex felt good pressing down on his body, his weight pinning him and making him feel real, and his touch showing how desperately he needed, wanted Dean. It never more evident than when Alex finally pushed his underwear down so that he could pull one leg out and lift his knee, allowing his lover to open him up. He gave a little groan at the touch to his back entrance.

Lube. They needed lube. Dean was desperately trying to think, and it suddenly came to him. With a grin, he started feeling around the floor boards of the car until he gave a crow of triumph as he found what he was looking for and held up a small jar of Vasilene. "Will this work? Don't ask! It wasn't to have sex with Sam. I bought it for a prank."

"It's good enough," whispered Alex against Dean's cheek. Grabbing the jar, he scooped some of the greasy stuff onto his fingers and returned them to Dean's ass, beginning to stretch him open so that he could fit his dick inside. "Thinking about this has been making me crazy," he whispered. "I can't tell you how much I want to make love to you." Slowly pushing, he felt Dean's opening give a little, and then a little more, permitting his finger to slip inside and begin to work at stretching it. "God, baby, you're so hot inside - so tight..."

Dean gave a deep groan, gripping Alex's arm and arching his back. "Shit, Alex!" He moaned deeply again, the fingers slowly pushing in to widen him. Dean felt himself squirm, sluttish in his need to get more of those fingers inside him. "Just wait... wait 'til you get inside me, will you say the same thing?"

"I've got a feeling I'll be saying it for as long as you let me," Alex murmured, nibbling on the lobe of Dean's ear as he worked a second finger inside. "Hopefully for the rest of my life." He slid his fingers home, each press deeper and deeper, until he finally found what he was seeking and began to gently rub the gland under his fingertips. "And if that sounds girly, then I apologize, but it's how I feel."

Dean's fingers gripped Alex tightly as he felt that touch translated into fireworks. His whole body trembled from the sensation, and the muscles around Alex's fingers tightened. "You're giving me a chick-flick moment aren't you," Dean pulled Alex down to him and kissed him quickly. "C'mon, Alex, don't wait any longer."

It had been a long time since anyone had said things like that to him, and Alex couldn't believe his luck. Dean was spread out for him, body splayed in invitation, and an expression of lust on a face like that of a fallen angel. He'd never seen anything quite so beautiful. "Can't wait, no," he whispered. "You're making me crazy; look at you."

He pulled his fingers out of Dean and squirmed around so that he could put his cock there instead. "You ready?" he murmured, afraid of hurting Dean but unable to hold back from piercing him, so desperate was his need. "I want you so much..."

A snap of his hips and the head of his cock was inside Dean. Another jerking thrust sent him further, deeper, and a third seated him fully, so deep inside that his balls were pressed against Dean's ass, and Alex had to freeze, bite his lip and calculate Pi to 87 places before his imminent orgasm died back enough to begin moving.

Dean couldn't help the grunt of pain from the first initial push into him, but then the pleasure took over, making him groan. The slide in was sweet and deep, pressing against his gland, and he could feel Alex's balls resting against his ass. He gazed up at his lover, seeing him bite his lip and reached up, his hand upon Alex's neck to scratch his nails down it before leaning up and kissing away the sting. "I need you so badly, Alex... I didn't think I would, but... I do."

"Hey, Dean Winchester," murmured Alex, his lips pressing against Dean's soft skin even while he was speaking. "I've never needed anyone. I guarantee that there's never been a single soul that I needed until today." He began to move, scared to hurt his lover, but unable to stop his motions as he drew out, pushed in, pulled out again, his body tense as if to ward off the pleasure each stroke would bring. "You're more than just sex to me, baby. You're a symbol to me that we shouldn't give up - does that make sense?"

Dean's fingers tightened on Alex's skin, where his hands had come to rest on his upper arms. He groaned deeply, "Does it? Oh, God... does it have to make sense?" He asked. Alex's cock was driving perfectly into Dean, rocking him with each stroke. His body inched along the back seat, only to be dragged back into position by Alex's hungry hands.

Dean's mouth tried to find bare skin to nip, and suck and lick. His hands slid up and then around to Alex's sides, holding him clamped tight while he lifted his torso to get at his lover. He whimpered when Alex succeeded in angling his hips and really starting to go to work.

There had been many lovers in Alex Krycek's past, but nothing had ever affected him the way that Dean was doing now. He wanted to hold Dean and protect him; he wanted to sink into him and never emerge again; he wanted to be with Dean for the rest of his life. He wrapped his arms around Dean, cradling him as he devoured the man's sultry mouth. "Won't last long," he gasped. "So close. Want you to come first."

"That... that won't be a problem," Dean gasped, knowing that the position they were in allowed just enough friction against his own cock to get him off. He returned the devouring kiss with ones of his own, breath exhaling through his nose. He rocked as much as he could, until he could feel the burning bliss that started at his sac and pierced up his spine, making him tense. Before he could warn Alex, liquid heat was splattering between them.

The sudden constriction as Dean's muscles convulsed around his cock made Alex cry out. He thought that he'd lost the power of speech. All his facilities deserted him, and all of a sudden all he was coming, pulsing into Dean's ass, body wracked and shaking as his climax stormed through him. He clung to Dean, breathing ragged as he gulped air into lungs that just didn't seem to be able to find enough. He let a groan escape his lips. "Oh, God, Dean, I think I love you."

Dean lay under Alex, spent and lax. He let his arms fall away at last as a groan left him. He'd closed his eyes, and his chest rose and fell with Alex collapsed against him, pressing him down into the leather of the car seat. He lifted his head at last, and opened wide green eyes. "Really?" He gave a slight smile. "Well, I hope I don't disappoint you, because I think I'm in love with you too. I haven't felt this way in... in a very long time." It was a confession, one only to be shared between them.

The life Dean had led was different from the one here. Time had changed it and the people he knew had changed as well. His father was alive. Sammy wasn't the same brother he'd known before, either. But Dean still knew the pain from that other time. He still remembered. He still felt it, and Alex was the first person ever to give him the love he craved from his own family without having to beg and plead for it. He didn't have to be strong and carry the weight on his own with this man. And as strange as that felt to him, it took a lot of the weight that he'd been carrying off him.

Dean's confession sent little creatures fluttering somewhere low in Alex's belly. He moaned and sought the other man's mouth again, possessing it, wishing he could spend an eternity just kissing Dean. "You're everything I've ever dreamed about. I didn't know that I could ever be saved from the way things were, but you've rescued me, and I don't think I'll ever be able to repay you for that. You're my lucky star."

He laid his head on Dean's chest and gave a sigh. "You know something? One day I'd like to go find Mulder and smirk at him, because he's probably married to Scully now, and he'll be spreading around the middle and losing his wind, while here I am, same as I was, and I have the hottest guy in the entire history of man as my lover. What a vengeance. That's better than anything I could've dreamed up for myself. Thank you, darlin'."

Dean gave a chuckle, "Maybe some day! We can leave him hanging until later. I want you all to myself for a while." Dean ran his fingers through Alex's hair. "I'm gonna teach you how to be a hunter, and then we can go and laugh at him, because he's been trying to prove these things exist, and here we are hunting them as happy as can be. Ah hell, let's be real. We may not find the time to go see him. We'll be too busy... if you know what I mean." Dean held Alex tightly and smiled contentedly.

"For once in my life, Alex Krycek... you've made me... happy"

---

| Back to My Stories –|– Email Dr. Ruthless |