Naughty Fandom Freak Writer

I was only a child when the rebellion failed. The Mocking Jay was made quiet and the Capitol ruled supreme. President Snow had vanquished another uprising.

However, the people still remembered, and that needed to be changed. The Capitol had never seen a Hunger Game with more drama and although they couldn’t be happier to be safe and spoiled once more, they still adored the romance of Peeta and Katniss.

You could trust President Snow to use this to his advantage. As the districts needed to be punished, he left it to his game makers to formulate a new challenge. While the Summer months were used to continue the hunger games, the Winter would set a new game that would still cost lives. Each rebellion had to pay a price, after all.

The Red Games were instituted. A game that would give the capital the love and drama they so craved, while acting as a punishment to the districts. A twisted bloodbath for the next generation.

It was the morning of the Red Reaping. It was easy to tell, what with all the noise outside. With a groan, I turned onto my stomach, face in my pillow.

“Quiet please,” I couldn’t help but groan as I reached for my remote. I knew well enough already which button to press to hush the outside world and block out the light. One tap and my favourite starry night sky played on the window screen.

I should be lucky to live in the Capital, but some days it was damn near intolerable.

On a day like today, I knew my family would want me up and dressed as early as possible but they knew not to come wake me themselves. I never liked this day, and only my father understood.

I never enjoyed any of the capital events. Not since my family and I returned from District 7.

My father, Damiin Silver, was a peace keeper assigned to the Lumber district. I only spent three years there before dad got a promotion and moved back to the Capital. Still, the memories remain the same. The hunger, the weight on their shoulders, it made an impression that no amount of wealth could fix. My Mom, Letta, always said I was too young and impressionable when we lived there. She blames that time on why I’m so hard to handle. She’s not wrong.

Finally dragging myself out of bed, I move to the mirror to braid my hair.

Mom also blames my fascination with Katniss on my time in the district. She’s not wrong.

I’ve been a fan of braids for so long most people don’t even relate it to the Mocking Jay anymore. It’s just an out of date style I refuse to give up. Though that seems to make sense from the way I wear my clothes as simple as possible. I remember a time when I dressed like everyone else. Now the idea of such ostentatious clothing seems uncomfortable.

I looked in the mirror when I finished. Brown hair that faded into gold swept into a side braid, my curvy figure made obvious in a simple peach dress and gold belt. The silk flowers in a pale pink peach sewn to the dress would be about the only thing that seemed ‘capital’ about my outfit outside of its colour. Painting my face might be the only thing I actually enjoyed about getting ready. Glueing gold lashes to my own, adding a peach colour to my lids, applying another gold bar of colour down the center of two delicate pink lips, it was like crafting a mask, one I hid behind as much as I could.

I tried to live between words. Just colourful enough not to draw attention but never enough for the standards of fashion applied to the Capital. A sense of invisibility was always the aim.

“Alright, Gemma. Let’s get this over with.”

With a heavy breath, I walked out of the room. Downstairs, Mom and Dad were already eating and celebrating. Havvery, the Avox assigned to my family, served as Mom twitted on about her plans for the day. There was a time I’d have to endure those plans but for this year, I’ll be graciously separated, just as I was last year and the year before that.

“Oh Darling, you couldn’t have… tried a little?” Mom asked.

Of course, my style is never more critiqued than on days like today. At 20 years old you’d think she’d get tired of judging my looks. They’d been the same for quite some time.

“Leave her be,” my Dad chimed in, eyes on his screen working already. Busy days like today demanded a lot from a peacekeeper as high in rank as he.

“Just, a bit of glitter, or maybe a necklace or two,” she continued to complain.

“I’m fine,” I brushed off, heading for the food set out in a bright spread. A sweet orange would be enough while getting me out of the house quickly. I was only just starting to peel the skin when I felt a snap on my ear.

“Ouch!” I cried out, reaching to feel cold metal on my ear and turning to see my mother. She’d clipped on a gold dangling earring and waited with the other.

“Please,” she begged.

I turned around to my food, which she took as an invitation to add the other. I flinched again.

It was such a talent that my mother could so easily reach my limit of her shallow vanity. Of all the people I knew, she was the most like the capitol. No wonder the Districts revolted.

Standing from the table I moved with my fruit in hand.

“I’m meeting Belba before everything starts,” I didn’t want to spend anymore time with my mother than I had to. Not today.

“Darling, I thought we could head down together-”

I didn’t let her finish. I was out the door and into the loud chaotic streets before she could stop me.

The Red Reaping was one of the big parties of the year. It was the first party of the Red Games and although it was a brisk fall day, everyone dressed up for the event. I slipped on my knitted coat with the thinnest of fur trims and continued to eat my orange. Around me everyone was shouting and laughing. Parts of the city played music and there was literal dancing in the streets.

Absolute luxury paired with excited gossiping. It was so different from District 7.

I could easily imagine the trepidation and fear as each citizen from age 18 to 29 dressed for the reaping. It was a more conservative fear, cloaked by the brave faces the older citizens wore. The Hunger Reapings, with their younger children, laid their terror quite plainly on their faces. It had always been so strange to watch a child my age make for the town square knowing I was safe and they weren’t.

‘Trig…’ I thought, the name scarcely on my lips when a familiar voice stopped me.

“Gemma! Over here,” Belba called over. She was a tree amongst most people, that was only worsened by the tall heels she always wore. I rushed through the crowd to her side, accepting the hug she had to bend over to give.

“You made it out of the house, I see.”

“Not unscathed,” I added, showing off the earrings that had turned my earlobes red from their sudden addition. They were fake and so they pinched to stay in place.

“Here,” Belba smiled. She took them off of me gently and turned me around. I could feel her moving a bit at my hair and soon the clips framed by braid instead of tormenting my ears.

“Thank you,” I genuinely spoke, my hands feeling behind my head to where they now sat.

Belba was always so wonderful at fashion. She had dreams of becoming a fashion icon in the city and was well on her way with an internship under Tigress’ guiding hand. I trusted her as Belba was my best friend and understood my minimalist wishes. She always took my odd desires and found ways to merge them with the excessive expectations of the city. In a way, she hid me in the crowd, misdirecting others from my near rebellious tendencies.

“I’m at your service,” Belba giggled. She gave an elaborate bow and it was then I noticed the ring on her left hand. It wasn’t hard to see, sparkling silver against dark ebony skin. Not to mention the ring was huge.

“Is… Is that…” I stammered.

Belba nodded. “It is!” She excitedly exclaimed. “Fredrick proposed!”

I took her hand and examined the ring. I couldn’t have been more excited for Belba! She and Fredrick deserved happiness. They were wonderful but…. “You’re not in the Reaping then.”

The smiles on both of our faces fell. Belba shook her head.

“I’m sorry. I really didn’t want to leave you alone in this but—”

“It’s fine,” I interrupted.

“We could wait to register out until next year.”

I shook my head at Belba’s offer. “No point in putting your name in for my sake. Capitol forbid you’re picked and married off to some district boy,” I joked.

She laughed out of kindness at my joke but the pity never left her eyes.

“I know you hate today,” she added quietly.

“I hate all days like today. No need to make this one special,” I forced a smile which Belba understood. I was done talking about it. She was so supportive in ways I could never fully thank. Of everyone in my life, Belba was the only one I could really stand. She let me be me.

“Let’s go,” she sighed and looped her arm with mine. She’d walk with me to the city circle, where she wouldn’t be able to stay with me.

It was odd the first years of the Red Games. Capitol citizens had never done their own reaping and so they looked unorganized and almost comical as those eligible stood in the centre of the circle. There were many of varying ages, a colourful pageantry of dull witted singles. It took a few years before age restrictions were put on the capitol entrants. When a 73 year old woman was picked as the Capitol’s 4th Red Games Rose, they limited the ages to match the districts.

Any single capitol citizen between the ages of 18 to 29 must participate. The gender required switches ever year. Of course this isn’t forced in the capitol. Everyone is beyond excited to play the Rose in the games. Well, apart from myself… but to refuse to be part of the reaping is to show rebellion and the last rebellion was too recent to risk pointing yourself out like that.

The districts were different, of course. Two tributes between the ages of 18 and 29 of each district are chosen, their gender is picked by the Rose after our reaping. In the districts, this day is just like the Hunger Reapings. It’s the same forced participation that few survive, as deadly a game as the Hunger games themselves. So, just as you survive your time in the Hunger reaping pools, you’re entered into the Red reapings and no one is safe until they turn 30.

This year will technically be my first year. When I was 18 I was registered out by a betrothal. The next year the Rose was a male pick and so now…. Now my name rests with all the others. My mom couldn’t stop talking about it, watching previous years competitions and thrilling at the idea that I might be picked. I had to bite my tongue to keep my mouth shut, and by now I had a very sore tongue.

It was easy to be the Rose. A capitol citizen to be an object of desire for others to fight over. The arena was the Capitol, events and parties, but there was a small arena. One in the city that pitted the tributes against each other. The Rose had all the control. Who would be spared, who would be thrown in ‘The Pit’ as it was affectionately called by everyone, who would survive to continue playing. And after all the torment and blood. The Victor and the Rose would be married and live in the capitol as celebrities for the rest of their lives. It was easy to see how a normal Capitol citizen would be thrilled to play the Rose.

But not me.

Belba finally released my arm as we arrived at the check in.

“Try to have fun,” she offered but the stern look on my face told her I’d do otherwise. She rolled her eyes in response. “Just twenty minutes of your time and then you can find me. Fredrick’s got a great spot to watch the fireworks. We’ll have a blast! Just twenty minutes.”

I sighed and offered a soft smile. She was right. A short twenty minutes and I could pretend all this celebration was for something other than death. It was little asked of me in comparison to the  citizens outside the city.

“I’ll see you after,” I confirmed and turned to line up.

The line was jittery and nervous, it reminded me of District 7, though the energy there came from dread, not excitement. The line moved quickly as eager women and men rushed into the centre of the circle. Soon, chariots of doomed tributes would be standing there instead.

Cameras lined the area and broadcasted over large screens. Everyone was dressed rather extravagantly. After so many years, everyone wanted to look their best if chosen. Your future partner was watching after all.

Now the citizens have learned to line up properly. They stand in rows based on age. I couldn’t wait until I grew old enough to stand in the very back rows, covered by high collars and even higher hair. For now, I was nearer the front in spectacular view of the cameras and without many people to hid behind. Still, I managed to find a particularly tall wig to stand behind in the hopes of remaining anonymous and unseen.

Twenty minutes, twenty minutes, just twenty minutes.

I looked down at where they pricked my finger to admit me. A small prick that many whined and moaned about even if it was such a quick and easy prick. Some faced much worst pain in their beauty procedures, this was only worth complaining about because of its lack of immediate reward.

The space will get tighter, more claustrophobic as people arrive. We all tightly press amongst each other as more eligible citizens clamour for their chance at fame and love. In the stands on all sides the older and younger generations sat with just as much anticipation. And beyond the city circle, others would be at venues and private parties watching the broadcast.

The people around me jabbered on, pointing out cameras with waving hands and discussing their chances. In front of us all was a stage with a bowl of names. One single bowl. My name rested in their twice, unless my mother purchased more entries for me. I was never sure if the same option was offered to the districts but really, who would pay money to have their name in there more often. Here it was an option heavily used, which was why the bowl in the center of the stage held far more little papers than their were people standing. It was five times the size of the capitol bowls.

The likelihood of my name being in there more than twice would have been high were it not for my father. Ever since my engagement ended, my mother had placed all her attention on finding me another match. No one was surprised at her enthusiasm and obsession with the Red Games this year. It was her chance to force me into a match. The only thing that stopped her at every turn was my father. Thank the Capitol for him.

The excited chatter only got worse and I knew why before I saw him. President Snow had taken his place in his large golden seat. Game makers filed out to stand on the stage with last years winners. Married now, Dawn and Tennitt stood hand in hand. Tennitt was what you might expect from the Capitol. He was tall and thin with bright orange hair and a sparkling blue suite. His white gloved hands held that of Dawn’s. Her slanted almond eyes looked about the crowd. Long black hair swept down her back, much longer than they’d been in the games last year. Her pale complexion looked odd against her orange dress, puffy and made to match her new husband. She was quiet, as she’d been in the games. There was something… empty in her eyes. It contrasted with the pleasant smile she kept plastered on her lips. She belonged to the Capitol now. There seemed to be no trace left of her District 2.

Everyone roared with sound until the President stood.

“Welcome to the 8th Annual Red Games,” he began.

The president’s speech was a blathering of self satisfaction, boasting commentary and fluff to fill the spaces. It was the same warning to districts not to rebel. The first year he’d had the thought to mention Katniss by name, which created unrest and anger through the districts. The next he only called her the rebel but still that only caused unrest. Now he was smart enough to pretend the girl on fire had never existed. It was a far firmer point to the districts who fell in line now.

With his words done the crowd was in a roar of applause again, this time for the Victor and Rose as they stood together for their chance to speak. Tennitt spoke of finding his love, his words eloquent and flowery. In reality they meant nothing. Dawn had her own chance to speak but it was much shorter. The way she spoke, it all sounded rehearsed and not of her own.

Finally the Capital’s representative stood. He’ll spend his time ushering the new Rose around, a job the district representatives would have killed for. His was a position hard fought as his Rose is a winner every. single. year. No matter what.

Garth Havensbee a short man dressed in emerald green with a pocket square of orange to match his last Rose. He looked pompous, and far too pleased with himself to be where he was, a celebrity in his own right. His voice was nasally as he offered a “Happy Red Games and may the rose bloom.” It was the newest version of ‘May the odds be every in your favour’. A constantly repeated mantra through these games that caused a wave of cheers.

Garth motioned for the crowds to calm and I looked about. There was no chance of me finding Belba and Fredrick, or any of my family. There were just too many people in the stands. Still, I couldn’t help but look just in case. It was better than listening to yet another speech about finding love and fighting for its prize. It was laughable to think Love could be found anywhere in these games.

The way a tribute won, was through violence and lies. Each district would offer up two tributes of the chosen gender. Some years that’s girls, others its boys, most of the time it’s one of each. Then the tributes are brought to the capital where they must woe the rose. It’s their only chance of survival. Each week, a set of tributes will be thrown in the pit to fight to the death. The winner continues to court the Rose. This all continues until there is only one. So a tribute is expected to romance a Capitol citizen, spoiled and naive, so that they might live as a prisoner. At least the victor of the hunger games would be sent home to live their lives in peace. The Victor of the Red Games would never be free. The most they could hope for would be a gilded cage.

The crowd suddenly picked up in volume, jumping and screaming in excitement. I looked back to the front to see Garth dramatically waved his hand over the bowl. Oh, it was selection time.

“Alright ladies, are you ready?” He asked and the crowds around me screamed. I had to cover my ears to block out the screeching.

Garth dipped his hand into the bowl, stirring the names around and I held my breath as I was jostled around by the ensuing mosh pit. Trust to Capitol to show such undignified behaviour during a reaping.

‘Not me, not me, not me,’ I chanted in my head. I didn’t really think it could be my name pulled. There were hundreds of thousands of slips in that bowl. My two slips had very little chance of being pulled amongst the incredible number. Still, I held my breath while the anticipation grew and grew.

Garth lifted his hand into the air, a slip of paper in his stubby fingers. He made a great show of opening the paper and the accompanying roar was near deafening. He opened his mouth and the audience never ceased their cheering so that he had to yell the name into the microphone to even be heard.

“Gemma Silver.”

One time, when I was young, I was playing by the waters edge with some friends. We always liked the way the current felt against our legs. The nearer you got to the dams the stronger the current. I had been fooling around when I slipped on a rock and found myself submerged under the current, being pulled away towards the dam. I remember the way the water encased me, how muted everything else became around me as I was swept away without any ability to resist.

That’s how I felt now, stunned as the world slowed and went silent around me. Of course the screaming was still rampant as people turned to look for Gemma. A few who knew me began pointing and the whole crowd excitedly pushed me towards the front. I was swept away in such a daze that sound didn’t seem to return until Garth was staring right at me. He was pausing for something. It took a moment to realize he’d asked me a question.

“What?” I asked, my own voice a foreign whisper to my own ears.

“What’s your choice for Tributes?” He asked again with a nasally laugh. The crowds joined, enjoying my speechlessness.

“I….” I couldn’t speak. I wanted to scream, to tell them to redraw, to tell them I choose no gender, that I wanted no part in this. But the world watched, every set of eyes trained on my face, every voice paused in one silent moment as they waited on my choice.

“Come on darling, we haven’t got all day,” Garth prompted away from the mic for only me to hear. He was becoming impatient with my silence. The crowds itched with anticipation as well.

“Male,” I squeaked out.

“She’s chosen male!” Garth declared and the whole stadium erupted into more cheers. Garth took my hand and raised it into the air to which the audience grew impossibly louder.

I could only stand and watch as the Capitol celebrated. I… I had given in, just like that. I had become a part of what I hated most about this place. For all my desire to rebel and change the world…. I gave in. I was a coward.

It was a blur after that. The Panam anthem played and a few more words were said before I was swept away yet again, this time by peacekeeper staff, gently guiding me out of the city circle and into a tall tower nearby where what seemed to be a private party for the game makers and other important people was taking place. So many came up to me, congratulating me and complimenting me. I could only whisper hushed thank you’s and nothing more. I managed to find a window which overlooked the city streets. People filled the area so it was a messy moving river of colours. I stared down as I processed what had just happened to me.

I was reaped. I was the Rose now. I’d be married off to someone from the districts after I cause the murder of 23 men. I was everything I hated about this place.

No, this wasn’t happening. None of that could be true. This was all just a bad dream, a horribly bad dream, just like the one I’d been having every night for the last week.

It began as a memory. I was nine again, living in District 7. School had just finished and all the kids were rushing out of the school to head home. The Hunger Games were being broadcasted and everyone was to go straight home to watch it. I was heading that way when I was pushed to the ground. I spun around to look up and see Trig’s face. Her usually olive complexion was paler and her eyes were rimmed in red from tears, but she wasn’t sad. She was angry. Rage painted her face as my best friend looked down at me.

“You! You’re one of them! This is your fault!” She yelled at me.

I didn’t understand and words failed me which was the wrong answer as Trig swung back and kicked me in the side. It tore the breath from my body as a huddled on my side, cradling the pain.

“You killed my brother!” She screamed again and kicked me in the stomach. My lungs struggled for air without success as pain I’d never felt before ran through me. By now, teachers had come by and grabbed Trig, pulling her away from me. I was helped up from the ground in time to make eye contact with Trig. Her dark brown eyes held a fury as she thrashed against the men pulling her away.

“I hate you! I hate you!” She screamed to me as she was dragged back to the school for punishment.

In reality, Trig would never speak to me again. Her brother had died in the 73rd Hunger Games that day and she’d forever blame the Capitol and all born there for it, including myself.

However in the nightmare, Trig would escape the men holding her and come barreling towards me. A knife appeared in her hand as she tackled me to the ground. She’d slice at my neck and laugh as I bled out, just like her brother Carver died. I felt every moment of it and by the third dream I knew it was coming. I’d struggle against her, attempting release but she’d always manage to hold my down and slit my throat. I’d wake up wrapped in my blankets like knots and in a cold sweat.

I gasped rather dramatically when I felt a hand pull at my shoulder to turn me around. Belba stood before me with Fredrick not too far behind her.

“Congratulations!” She loudly proclaimed but as she leaned forward to hug me, she whispered in my ear. “Are you alright?”

I couldn’t speak. I could only shake my head and fight back the anger that was beginning inside me. Belba sighed and released me, holding on to my shoulders to look over me.

“Of all the people who could have been drawn…” she murmured for only me to hear. She understood how much I didn’t want this.

I opened my mouth to speak but a shrill squeal came from the room in it’s place. My mother came in, loud and ecstatic, she made it over to me and wrapped me in her arms.

“Gemma, we did it! You’re the Rose! Oh the life you’re going to lead now!” She cried. I had to pry her arms off of me to get some air. The feathers at her neck were chocking as it was, let alone her smothering affection. The last thing I needed was her joy.

Luckily, her mother turned her attentions to the other people in the room.

“Can you believe it? My daughter! The Rose! I couldn’t be more proud!” She coed loudly to the room. I could already see her eyes darting around to see who were the most influential and important people in the room. It took everything in me not to die of embarrassment.

My father came around then, looping his arm around my shoulder and only speaking to me.

“This is going to be quite the adventure, eh Gemma? Nothing is going to be the same,” he optimistically remarked.

It was hard to ignore the heaviness in my heart at his words. He meant them in celebration, but I felt them in dismay and despair.

The rest of the party felt like a blur. Important people shook my hand and asked me ridiculous questions such as what colour would be my signature or how tall I hoped my future husband might be. It all felt so trivial and it only worsened my mood. Guilt wracked me at every turn.

“Gemma! Over here!” Belba called at one point. I drifted over to her and the woman standing before her. “Gemma this is Belladonna. She’ll be your stylist this year!”

Belba was starry eyed as she looked over the lean woman who wore all black apart from a red rose. It would seem understated were it not for the large black cages that sat on either hip and her shoulders. A black veil reached over her left eye and gave her a dangerous look. Her blond hair was pin straight, ending in a sharp bob and complimenting her dark carmel skin.

“Charmed,” she purred, holding out her hand covered in a black lace glove. Her black lips quirked up in a smirk when I took her hand and shook it in a daze.

“Quite a shock to the system, this sudden surge in fame,” Belladonna offered but there was something in her eyes like she meant more that she couldn’t or wouldn’t say.

I could only nod before the designer began to circle me. She gently touched the few flowers on my dress and the gold clips in my hair with her spidery like fingers.

“A flower to be sure, but is there anything beneath it,” she commented to herself.

It was then my mother came barreling over. Letta had indulged too much on wine already. Her bleach blond hair was falling out of it’s careful curls and the literal nest she’d secured this morning was falling to the side.

“Gemma! My sweet girl,” she came over and pinched my cheeks. It hurt nearly as much as her checkered dress hurt my eyes. “You’re going to get married. You’ll have a wedding after all,” she explained a little too emotionally.

I looked about at the attention she was drawing. My shoulders tensed with it.

“You know, when Marcius broke off the engagement I was afraid you’d never find a man, or a partner. Honestly I thought Belba might have been your girlfriend for a time but then she found fredrick and I thought you’d be all alone.” Letta continued.

It was all too much, too loud, too embarrassing.

“Stop it mother,” I tried to speak through gritted teeth but she either didn’t hear me over her performance or didn’t care. Instead she placed her hands on my shoulders to speak directly to me, and the crowd that gathered around us.

“You were always such a hard one to match up. No matter how hard I tried, and believe me I tried, I couldn’t seem to get a man to stick around for you but now! Now they’ll have no choice, eh piglet?”

It was a cruel nickname my mother had for me when I was young. I carried too much weight in her opinion, my body not quite the style it should be and my refusal to take Capitol measures to fix it was what spurned the name. I grew out of it to some degree, my baby fat becoming a fuller womanly figure. Still, she could not help but comment on the willowy form that was popular in the city and my much curvier shape.

It was that name that made me snap. “Enough!” I screamed and pushed aside my mothers doting hands aside.

The room was silent from my outburst but I didn’t care. The startled eyes could look at me all they want, it wouldn’t help calm the simmering rage beneath my skin.

“The one thing I’m most grateful for mother, is the time I’ll have away from you,” I hissed before turning and storming out of the room.

All eyes watched and I could hear one quiet comment over the silence.

“The flower has some thorns,” Belladonna spoke.

I walked home that night. Few people stopped me as few people thought the Rose would be anywhere but the largest party of the night. I managed to get home with relative ease and went straight for my bedroom where I locked the door. The room was still silenced from this morning, the first quiet I’d found since this morning.

Finally I could have a moment of peace. A moment to process. A moment to sink to the floor and cry.

It felt like hours alone. I managed to pick myself off the floor and into my bed where I hid under the covers, hoping this was all a dream. No matter how many times I shut my eyes when they opened, it still wasn’t a dream.

A pounding fist on my door startled me. Letta’s voice came through.

“Gemma! Open this door this instant!” She screeched. I could hear my father trying to make her see reason and not confront me but she wasn’t having any of it.

My rage renewed I stood and marched to the door, opening it to both of their surprise.

“Gemma!” My mother seemed as angry as I was, even more of a mess than the last time I’d seen her. “What were you thinking!? Do you have any idea how much you embarrassed me!”

“I embarrassed you?” I asked incredulously.

“Yes! Your blow ups, Gemma they’ll be the death of me I swear,” she tried to head into my room for her next performance but I refused to step out of the way for her.

“I wish they would already,” I spoke through gritted teeth.

“Gemma,” my father scolded but Letta took the insult and ran with it.

“You wish me dead? Is that it?” Large fake tears began to fall over her rosy cheeks. “Oh isn’t that wonderful. I give my daughter the world and she wants me dead.”

“Quit your crying, we all know you don’t mean a word of it,” I spat.

“Oh I mean it! These tears are real but they’re not for me! They’re for you!” She tried but I rolled my eyes. “You know this is the reason Marcius left you,” she tried.

Without thinking I reeled back and slapped her across the face. Silence prevailed as shock replaced my mothers dramatics. Not even my father dared to say another word.

“How DARE you!? I should-”

“You should what?” Letta was interrupted by a nasally voice. Behind her and my father stood Havvery and some guests he’d let into the house. Garth stood with Belladonna and a few others behind her.

“I.. I… she…” Letta sputtered but Garth was already moving past her towards me.

“Might I come in?” He asked and I stepped aside for him, casting Letta another dirty look. The others followed and when only Letta and my father were left in the hallway Garth offered a pleasant thanks and shut the door.

“Gemma Silver, I believe you’ve had the change to meet Belladonna Ivy.” I gave a not to Garth’s words. “Well this is Remington and Imogen, members of her, and now your, style team.”

I had no words, the sudden change from a fight to such polite introductions was staggering. Garth used this as a chance to speak a rehearsed welcome he must have given to all the Roses.

“As we begin the 8th Annual Red Games you will become the centre of focus for all of Panam. As such it is imperative that you make a good impression on the country. As such I will help guild you through these tasks and assist in any way I can. Together we will craft your love story and show Panam that life is always better unified.”

I was barely listening as he spoke and it seemed Garth didn’t care much.

“Now, I will take my leave. Belladonna will see that you are ready for your send off and we’ll head out on this marvellous adventure,” he spoke, again rather board.

I only nodded again. Garth accepted that and left to no doubt calm my mother down, perhaps scold her a bit if I was lucky. Though luck hadn’t exactly been on my side as of late.

Belladonna began rounding me once more. Her assistants, Remington and Imogen, who happened to look like twins with their lavender hair, near white skin and sweeping fitted cloaks. The only differences lied in their eyes. Remington’s were a soft grey and Imogen were a deep jade. They began taking notes on a small tablet while Belladonna circled me like prey. She came to the front and took my chin, raising it to meet my eyes.

“Tears of joy perhaps?” She commented, noting the redness of them and what must have been streaks of gold carried down my cheeks with my tears. She didn’t need me to answer. Instead she moved to my bed where Imogen placed a large box, unsnapping latches and opening all the various folding trays. Inside lay a smattering of colours, all waiting to paint my face. Her collection of paints and brushes put mine to shame. Belladonna spoke while examining the many tools and trays.

“My job is different than most stylists. Where most stylists are meant to help tributes find sponsors, my role is far more important.” She stopped and turned to me. “I am to make you worth dying for.”

My heart dropped at the idea. I hadn’t even thought of what the tributes might think of me.

“Now now, not to fear,” Belladonna sensed my fears all too clearly and reached for me, pushing my hair back and taking my face in her hands.

“This is your kindness to them, do you understand? They will be chosen, no matter who the rose is, tributes will be chosen and will die. It’s a service to them, you see, that you make yourself a worthy prize for all the loss they’ll face.”

Her words added more pressure that I hadn’t even thought to add to my shoulders. I would be their ruin and now I had to make myself worth that ruin? I had only hours ago let myself down. How could I not do the same to 24 unfortunate souls I’d yet to meet?

“Where are they?” Belladonna asked, confused.

For a moment I thought she might be speaking to her assistants but it seemed she was looking for something on my face.

“What?”

“Your thorns dear, where did they go? I saw them at the party,” she clarified with a kind smile on her black lips that didn’t match her usual mischievous grin.

She waited until I cracked the smallest of smiles before she released me and headed back to her work. My face was cleaned and drops were placed in my eyes to calm their redness. I was stripped down and placed in a robe as well, my hair untied around my shoulders to start from scratch.

“You made a sweet impression at the reaping, but let’s not have them think you’re some kind of soft girl. You’ll need to be capable. You’ll need to seem in control.”

The way Belladonna spoke, I had the impression the tributes were still more on her mind than the Capitol. That did ease my worry in some way. If her worries were alined with my own it would make this all so much easier.

Belladona began, painting my face with brushes and powders. She and her large cages stood in my way that I couldn’t see her work. Behind me I could hear the twin assistants working and moving, all in silence.

All the while Belladonna made small conversation. She asked me questions, about my family and my life. I wasn’t sure if it was to get to know me or to ease and distract me but it worked on all accounts. Soon she turned me and began working on my hair. I could see now that the twins were laying out clothing options, accessories and more that Belladonna gave the most subtle cues to. I couldn’t even perceive them but they seemed to know what she wanted.

The colours that laid on my bed weren’t far off from my peach choices this morning. White crossing strips of ribbon were embellished by flowers in blues, lavenders and soft pinks.

“So we’re taking the rose thing rather literal this year,” I commented to Belladonna. I instantly regretted it, I shouldn’t have been so rude to someone who was just trying to help.

“Oh the flowers aren’t about your title,” she corrected without skipping a beat. “The capitol can be cold, fake and cruel. Every district knows this but you, you will be different.” She finished with one last pin in my hair and encouraged me to stand with a push to my shoulders. The twins were already removing my robe and holding out a nude strapless one piece. The lines in it and corseting gave detail and shape as I stepped in.

“Though the Capitol look can be very alluring, it won’t be to tributes. I want to make a statement that separates you from the rest of us. A beacon for tributes to flock to.”

Once laced into the corseting, the white ribbons were lifted over my head. I could see now what the idea was. Each white ribbon wrapped around me as though the outline of a dress rather than the full piece. It began around my neck in a chocker and down my shoulders. More lines moved across my waist and at my hips the ribbon became stiff, moving away from me to create an a-line gown that reached to the flood. Through t it reacted the illusion of a dress my full leg was shown all the way to my one piece. This would have been rather risqué were it not for the flowers that wrapped around my waist and flowed down the ribbon cage. It was beautiful to be sure but…

“Ah, ah ah,” Belladonna waved her finger before me. “No second guessing yourself.” She took my shoulders and turned me towards my mirror.

On the other side of the mirror stood a beauty. Every line of ribbon the dress created was meant to accentuate my figure, making me look mature and kind of sexy, while the flowers made me look feminine. My make up matched that tone, colours that were reflected in the flowers of my dress had been painted on my lids, making my eyes large and my skin dewy. My hair was far less tamed than most in the capitol these days. My hair was pulled back in loose braids, nearly falling apart, that ran down my back. Delicate flowers had been woven into my brown hair all the way to its gold ends.

Belladonna picked and perfected a few of those flowers as she stood behind me. Imogen placed simple pearl earrings on my ears while Remington added a perfect violet gold band to my finger.

“You, my dear, will be a natural beauty amongst a world of harsh illusions.”

I gawked, unaware my curvy shape could be celebrated rather than altered. The look felt, simple and authentic yet would not be questioned by the capitol citizens. “Thank you,” I whispered as my hands began to explore the garden at my hips.

“Don’t thank me yet, we have a long journey ahead of us,” Belladonna added as she made a motion to the twins. In mere moments the entirety of their tools and things were packed away and ready to leave.

I was lead out to my living room where Letta and my father sat. Father read from his tablet while mother bowed her head. It was clear that Garth had been disciplining my mother. He all but ignored my father behind him and stood directly before Letta.

“We’re ready,” Belladonna announced and Garth lifted his gaze with a smile.

“Ah, aren’t you lovely,” he complimented and moved to my side with an offered hand. “Now, we’ll take you to the train station where we’ll begin the Reaping Tour. It is customary to say your goodbyes here.” He let his gaze turn to my uninterested father and emotionally exhausting mother.

“Goodbye,” I gave in a short tone. Father gave a wave and a smile, knowing he’d see me soon. Letta only made a blubbering sound, unhappy she wasn’t being doted on for her fake tears.

I gave Garth a nod and he seem to be quite understanding of my lack of sentiment. He lead me out the door without question into an awaiting black car.

This time I, or rather the car, was clearly noticed. They waved and screamed from either side even though I was sure they couldn’t see me through the tint of the car.

“You can stand and wave if you’d like,” Garth informed me when he noticed where my attention was. He motioned to the sunroof above us.

“No,” I spoke and cast my eyes down to my floral ring.

I’d been right not to wave. There was no need. It seemed the whole city had turned out at the station.

Citizens and reporters with their insect like cameras trained directly on my face all pushed to get just a little closer as the car doors opened. Peacekeepers kept them at bay but it seemed a struggle for them, especially once they caught sight of me. They screamed and hollered for even a second of my attention. This was fame it seemed.

I caught a glimpse of myself on a television screen on the wall that was airing my arrival live and felt gratified that I appeared just as Belladonna hoped. I looked natural, especially amongst the capitals vivid colours and multitude of augmentations.

I gave small sweet smiles but I just couldn’t hide how overwhelming this was.

I was ushered towards the train, eager to be out of the spotlight. Still, I was forced to stand a few minutes in the doorway of the train while the cameras gobbled up my images, then we were allowed inside and the doors close mercifully behind us. The train began to move at once.

The speed initially took my breath away. It had been years since I’d been on a train. The last one brought me back to the capitol almost eleven years ago. It was one of the high-speed Capitol model just like this one. I ran a hand over one of the chairs, it even smelt the same as before.

The staff on the train wore Red outfits with golden trim and showed us each to our rooms. I was surprised as I passed door after door. Twelve to be exact, one for each district on this section of the train. Their handlers and designers would be at the other end of the train. My room was larger and set just before the last car of the train. I’d be close to the viewing room with all it’s windows, but every single person on the train would know where to find me.

Stepping inside my chambers had a lavish suite. It would have been a well sized room were it not for the monstrous bed taking up most of the space. There’d have been room for a sitting area otherwise. Instead I had only a bathroom and dressing area apart from the sleeping area. I wouldn’t have seemed so… spoiled if I didn’t know exactly why the bed was so large.

Though I’d avoided watching too much of either games, it was impossible to ignore. It was broadcasted everywhere and all anyone talked about. I’d seen the blood and carnage. I’d seen the parties and events. I’d even heard of and seen one of the more heated nights between the rose and a tribute. I could never understand how the rose agreed to allow the broadcast of such an intimate moment. I couldn’t bring myself to watch it, let alone be broadcast doing it.

The drawers were filled with fine clothes all approved by Belladonna, as was expected. They were simple and comfortable. The real dresses were in Belledonna’s room, those were the dresses for the cameras. For now I was free to wear whatever I wanted.

After carefully taking off my outfit I looked over the clothing and opted for the thick, warm robe instead. I pulled out my hair and all it’s flowers as well as wiping off my make up. They’d just re-dress me again when we arrived at district one in a few hours. That was our first stop. District one. The district took turns deciding which way they would be reaped. The rose was to be present at each so the order the districts were reaped mattered strategically, it added time alone on the train with the rose. This year would begin at 1 and end at 12B

The only thing I kept on was the violet ring.

Flowers weren’t often real in the Capitol. They were silk or other materials and the ones that were grown were genetic mutations meant to look perfect. The petrified violet on my hand however, that was a real flower. Or it had been once upon a time. I let my finger stroke over the now preserved petals. Real, genuine beauty. That’s what I wanted to be. Belladonna’s natural look was to make me stand out and it had certainly done that. I wanted more. I wanted to be separate.

I’d always played the rebel. I stood up to the capitol in meaningless, insignificant ways. A braid, a secret aversion to games, a reluctance to participate fully. It was pitiful attempts to make up for my birth given status. This time I would make it clear, I would pick a side. I would choose the districts and their tributes instead of the capitol I was born to. No matter what happened, I would be on their side.

Garth came to collect me for supper. I followed him through the narrow, rocking corridor into a dining room with polished paneled walls. There was a table set for myself and my team.

I sat at the head of the table. Garth took the seat to my right and Belladonna to my left with the twins beside her. The rest of the table held countless chairs with no place settings. It would be for each of my doomed suitors. A shiver ran down my spine at the horrid idea.

Supper came in course after silent course. A thick carrot soup, green salad, lamb chops and mashed potatoes, cheese and fruit, a chocolate cake. Throughout the meal, Garth kept blathering on about all the exciting things I would experience in each district. After the Reaping they would put on some sort of feast, celebration or custom to entertain me. It would all be for me. I knew Garth was trying to cheer me up and get me excited but every word grated on my nerves and worsened my guilt.

I remained quiet until the meal was over and the moment I was free I excused myself and rushed straight to the last car to be alone. This time of night it was actually beautiful, the capitol was so bright that seeing the stars was impossible. Out here, they twinkled far above me, perfectly displayed through the glass ceiling of the car. I curled up on one of the chairs and stared at the sky.

All night the parties in the Capitol would continue. They would rerun my reaping, speak about all the things they could find out about me through the day. My age, my parents of which Letta would be thrilled, my past in District 7, my past engagement and tragic break up with Marcius, it would all be playing all night for the Capitol to indulge. My life, their entertainment.

You were forced to get out of the shower eventually and got ready for bed. You deserved your night in this soft bed. It was going to be the best part of the case. You were just slipping on a lose tank top and pajama shorts when a knock on your door called you away from plans for bed. 

You assumed it would be one of the brothers this late at night and prepared a demand for at least 5 solid hours of sleep, but your words stopped short when you opened the door to Mr. Hardy.

“Hello, (Y/N) I believe?”

It took you a moment to finally answer him.

“Umm... ya, that’s me. Can I help you with something?”

“Yes,” he pulled out a small stack of invitations. “I have an exclusive brunch session for participants I think need an extra bit of work on a more personal level,” he passed you one of the invitation. “And I’d like you to join me.”

You weren’t sure whether to be insulted or flattered. His wide smile had you thinking he meant well but still...

“... I don’t know...” You tried to refuse.

“Nonsense!” Dr. Hardy grabbed one of your hands and forced an invitation into it. For a moment you got a little light headed which you blamed on your lack of sleep. “I insist. It’s a much more personal session and only offered to select participants. I feel you’ll respond better in this smaller group with less of an audience.”

You got the feeling there was no option to decline.

“Alright,” you conceded if only to get to bed.

“Wonderful. I’ll see you tomorrow then,” And just like that he was walking down the hall humming a cheerful tune to himself.

Wow the people here were weird!

You shut the door and only managed to make it to the edge of your bed when you head another knock. What else could that Dr want from you? You huffed as you tossed the invitation on your bed side table and marched over to the door. You threw it open only to see a much broader chest. Looking up you met Dean’s green eyes and noticed how dilated they were. His breathing was also a bit faster too.

“Dean, are you okay?”

DEAN POV

Her eyes met his and his heart raced. He tried to ignore the dilated pupils in her (Y/E/C) eyes but it was so hard. It was also just as hard not to devour every inch of the skin she showed. It was just as bad as the yoga outfit he’d spotted her in just as her and Sam parted ways after their class. Sam had tried his damnedest to keep her in his presence but she’d managed to sneak away for some peace and quiet. Peace and quiet that Dean was ruining right now...

“Sorry, I just...” ‘I just want to rip your clothes off, I just want to memorize your body with nothing but my tongue, I just want to know the sound of you screaming my name.’ Of course, none of those things were appropriate for Dean to voice out loud.

Without needing to ask, (Y/N) stepped aside as an offer to enter the room. It was a bad idea. Being behind a clothes door in the privacy of a fancy hotel room was going to erode any self restraint Dean had but he couldn’t say no to the prospect of it either.

He tried to lean against the dresser to create some space but to Dean’s joy and chagrin, (Y/N) leaned against that same dresser and placed a hand over his. It was meant to comfort him but it sent such a burning blaze through him that Dean could hardly speak.

YOUR POV

Holy crap! The fire touching Dean’s skin set through you was almost too much to handle. You had to control yourself for his sake.

DEAN POV

He cleared his throat and tried to speak, though he had no idea what he was going to say until it was coming out of his mouth.

“Did you pack any of my sweaters?”

‘Smooth move, Dean.’

(Y/N)’s laugh was the most wonderful thing he’d ever heard and it rang through him in a delightful way.

“I don’t think so but I’ll check.” She obviously though his request was funny and any trace of worry she had melted away. She moved away from him towards her bags and the loss of her contact stole all the breath from Dean’s lungs.

Her back was to him and Dean gripped the edge of the dresser for dear life. If he let go he’d surely cross the room and touch her. Wasn’t that why he was here? He honestly didn’t know. One minute he was pacing his room, unable to sleep and the next he was taking a walk through the halls. It wasn’t until he’d met up with Dr. Hack in the hallway that he realized he was headed for her room without thinking. He should have turned around and went back. Why was he here?

“Dean...”

YOUR POV

“Dean... I think you’re out of-” you were cut short by your own gasp as a pair of callused hands slide over your hips to your stomach and you were pressed close to a body that was setting you on fire.

Dean’s nose buried itself in your hair and he nuzzled into your neck.

“I can’t sleep,” he whispered there and it was almost as much a desperate plea as it was a sinful request. 

And oh god how it was setting you off in all the right ways.

“Dean,” You spoke again and felt him tighten his grip in response to his name on your lips. It stole the air from your lungs for a moment. “We’re on a case.”

“So?” He was quick to defend.

“We shouldn’t...” You were entirely unconvincing even to your own ears.

“Please,” he begged in a whisper. His right hand only released you to pull your hair over your shoulder so he might press his lips to your skin. You could still feel where he’d pressed his lips before yoga class. God, your skin was just full of memories tonight.

“I’m not asking for anything... just you.” He clarified. 

The way he held you, the way he gripped you like he might fall away from the earth if he let go, you believed all he wanted was to not be sent away.

“Okay,” you whispered and you felt Dean sigh into your neck. “But we need sleep, alright.”

He only nodded against you and you almost laughed at how cute this was were it not for the obvious desperation he felt. You weren’t sure what had happened. Maybe he’s had a nightmare about hell, maybe he’d been thinking of almost losing Sam to the trials, maybe your disappearance had really gotten to him and he’d assumed the worst. It didn’t matter what caused this, all that mattered was staying connected to him, because honestly you were feeling the same way. You couldn’t imagine moving away from him now. But you had to, if only for a short time.

“I’m going to shut the lights off and we’ll both climb in bed, okay?” You instructed to reassure both Dean and yourself. He sighed but released you. It took all your might not to push back into him but you managed to head for the lights and shut everything off. You almost ran for the bed and slipped in to Dean’s awaiting arms. 

God, what was happening to you?

You didn’t have time to sort that out because Dean’s face was already burrowed in your neck again and his arms were wrapped around you tightly. It felt right, being wrapped up in Dean like this. You let your hands slip around him as well and enjoyed the relaxing calm that came from your position.

His lips were back at it, placing gentle pecks to your skin. It was nice, until it turned into something else. Those gentle pecks slowly became luscious kisses as Dean tested the waters. You should have told him to go to bed but they felt so good. His lips began to travel, up your neck, across your jaw and so close to your lips before they stopped. 

You opened your eyes to see Dean’s waiting eyes. He searched yours, looking for some kind of permission. Both your breathing was ragged as you fought to keep your senses about you but... why? You both wanted each other. 

Screw it! You were the first to break the moment, surging forward and slamming you lips on his. Dean was quick to react and kissed with a matching heat.

His hands pressed over your body while your kiss feverishly pressed on but it wasn’t enough. You flipped him onto his back, straddling him now as you did your best to make him as breathless as you were. You were ripping off his shirt before you knew it and dragging your hands over the newly revealed skin. You were drunk on Dean and the feeling seemed to be mutual if his hands running up your back under your shirt was any indication.

He let you stay on top until he’d taken your shirt off. He memorized your curves with his hands but when he’d had enough he flipped you on your back. Now his lips trailed from your burning lips to your neck and chest. He was quick to find your breast and sent white hot streaks of pleasure through you as he licked and sucked at your perked nipples. 

Your fingers were already gripping his hair while you arched into him. From the noises you were making you’d think he was eating you out! Dean seemed to have the same thought at the same moment because his eyes flicked up to yours with a devilish look and his lips began to trail lower.

Oh god the anticipation was killing you. His ran his tongue along the hem of your sleep shorts, teasing you in a way that was driving you wild. He nipped at your hip, his fingers curling at the hem of your shorts, ready to pull them down and-

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You gasped when Dean suddenly froze and looked towards the door. The only sound for a long moment was both of your laboured breathing until...

Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock! Knoc-

“Alright! I’m coming!” You shouted at the intruder.

Dean looked up at you with a pleading expression. You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips before hopping out of bed, finding your shirt on the floor and pulling it on just in time to reach the door and wrench it open.

“What!?” You gave with a harsh tone but your anger died the moment you saw Macy’s tear filled eyes.

“I’m not sure what I saw but you’re the only one who’ll believe me.”

You sighed and opened the door to let her in. Macy did and only stopped short when she saw Dean who was now sitting on the edge of your hotel bed, still shirtless. 

“Oh, I though...” She looked over her shoulder to you with a look of confusion. Was she not expecting Dean? Was she expecting someone else? And further more, most women who saw a shirtless Winchester were a puddle of drool, but Macy was simply surprised at you.

“You thought?” You tried to prob.

“Never mind,” she waved it off and continued on her way towards the chair she’d taken last time. You took the same chair as well and Dean still waited at the bed.

“So, what did you see... in your own words?”

ANGEL POV

This was no good! No good at all! If Haaniel found out about this Soabriel was sure she’d be finished. They were distracted for now but the angel would have to really kick things up a notch.... even if it hurt the girl.

DEAN POV

He knew it was a case. He knew he should care more but Dean couldn’t bring himself to be glad this Macy girl might have a lead. He just wanted (Y/N) back in his arms and under his thorough ministrations. 

“I saw someone disappear,” the girl answered (Y/N)

“Another couple?” She asked, clearly focused the way Dean wasn’t.

“No, just one person. But they umm...” The girl stalled unsure what to say. In a natural response for (Y/N) she reached over and took the girls hand, encouraging her to continue. But all Dean could think of was the slight jolt of jealousy over such a simple and innocent gesture. Dammit he had to calm down.

“They were talking into their hand... which was.... I think it was full of blood...” The girl seemed on the verge of tears and (Y/N) immidiatly comforted her.

“Did it seem like they were talking to someone else?” 

Macy looked up wide eyed at the girl. Dean couldn’t blame her for looking with such wonder.

“They... They were! Geez, you’re good.” Macy marvelled.

(Y/N) only smiled before encouraging Macy to answer her. “What did they say?”

“Not much. Some yes, sirs and something about a cage but then they just vanished.”

ANGEL POV

That was too much information. Haaniel wouldn’t be pleased if this continued.

Well it was now or never.

DEAN POV

The information obviously pointed to a demon but Dean had more pressing matters to worry about. 

(Y/N) swayed a bit in her chair. It might have been nothing, a gentle movement done without thought but Dean’s eyes were drawn to it. He easily shifted all of his sharp hunting skills to the girl and watched her carefully. The two kept talking but Dean heard none of it. For a moment (Y/N) was fine until her eyes fluttered for a moment and she forced herself to take a deep breath.

“(Y/N),” Dean whispered gently. She shook her head as though that was assurance enough that she was fine. It wasn’t and Dean only kept quiet until he noticed her harshly sway again. 

He was up in a second with his hands on her shoulders to keep her in place.

“I’m sorry... Macy, was it? (Y/N) is exhausted and needs to recharge. You should swing by tomorrow to talk about this.”

Macy looked at Dean with wide eyes, her hand still in (Y/N)’s comforting grip, but he wasn’t falling for it. Not one bit.

“Dean, I’m fine,” (Y/N) tried to protest but Dean wasn’t budging. He was firm in his point and just wanted the girl to leave. 

“Dean...” (Y/N) tried again. She stood only to lose her balance. Were Dean not there to catch her she would have crumpled to the ground. Thankfully he was. It felt all too natural to pull her against his body and hold her tightly to him. Lending her strength felt like breathing. No, that wasn’t right, it felt far more rewarding than breathing. Her hands gently gripped his arms and that small pressure felt like it belonged there.

“We’ll see you tomorrow, Macy.” Dean left no room to argue and eventually the girl stood and let herself out. When she was gone he easily swept his arm under (Y/N)’s legs to lift her and carry her back to bed. 

“Are you alright?” He brushed some hair from her face to really look at her. She looked a little paler but she nodded none the less.

“I’m fine,” her voice was quiet though as she stared into Dean’s eyes. Dean was ready to let her stare forever but she needed sleep. He reluctantly dragged himself from her and turned the lights back off and slipping back to his side of the bed.

He wrapped his arms around her and out of instinct he nuzzled into her neck again. The worry she caused him seemed to be endless and all he wanted to do was protect her and shield her from everything. She easily let her hands find purchase on him and it all felt too good to be true. 

He sighed and rolled them so he laid on his back with her body draping over his. Dean’s fingers combed through her hair as he pressed soft kisses to her temple. 

“Go to sleep, we’ll figure this all out in the morning.”

(Y/N) nodded and he could tell by her breathing that she was drifting off. He felt sleep tug him as well and almost fought it for the chance of being in this moment just a little while longer but the idea of waking up with her was just as tempting and that only came when morning did.

ANGEL POV

As the two fell asleep, their breathing syncing up the way it should, Jaiphim watched on as he had been for a while now. Neither of the humans knew he watched on, and neither did the other angel. He murmured to himself, deep in thought now.

“What are you doing, Saobriel?”

YOUR POV

Something felt... wrong as you woke up. You felt right as well but you also didn’t. Waking up in Dean’s grip should have felt wonderful and most of you agreed but there was still something drawing you away. It felt like half your body wanted to stay where you were and the other half was trying to get away, ripping you into pieces in the process.

Dean was awake when you woke. He was gently stroking your back and greeted your opening eyes with a smile.

“Morning, beautiful.” You smiled back and tried to burry yourself in the shared blankets which earned you a light laugh from Dean but he pulled them down to see you clearly moments later.

“Hey,” he started and you had to marvel at how young he looked in the morning light. “How about we order room service? Maybe put on a movie or something?”

Your smile faltered at his offer.

“Dean, we’re on a case,” you gently reminded him and seeing his smile falter as well was like watching the sun disappear behind storm clouds.

“Right. I’ll umm...” He slipped from your arms then and you wanted nothing more than to reach out for him but part of you also wanted to let him go. He pulled his shirt on as he spoke, “I have this morning thing with Dr. Hardy.”

“You do?” You suddenly perked up, sitting up straight in bed.

Dean looked at you and you jerked your head to motion to the invitation on your bedside table.

“You too?” he asked and you nodded.

Both of you remained silent. You were worried. If Dr. Hardy had invited the both of you then perhaps you were being labeled as a couple and that put targets over both of you. But the chance to investigate Dr. Hardy further was too good to pass up.

“Well I’m not going like this, so...” he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “I’ll meet you down stairs.”

“Okay.”

Dean didn’t move. You stared into each other’s eyes for a moment before Dean surged forward. He cupped your face in both his hands and pressed his lips to yours for a lingering kiss. It was divine and still felt right but it was hard to ignore the small part of you that wanted to be somewhere else.

When the kiss broke Dean was reluctant to let you go and you couldn’t bring yourself to push him away. Eventually the two of you parted. Dean heading for the door and you moving off the bed to your clothing.

You were speedy in your daily routine until you hit a soft spot while brushing your hair. Just a tiny spot of tenderness at the base of your skull. You turned and pulled your hair out of the way to see what it was. You’d expected a fresh bruise but instead you noticed a small dark purple mark. The purple was so dark it looked nearly black and the way it sat in a dot it looked like someone had drawn the tiny spot in pen. You ran your finger over it to wipe the mark off but flinched at the pain it cause. It might have looked like a pen mark but it definitely felt like a bruise.

You’d have to investigate the cause later but for now you had a session to get to.

You were walking down the hall a little while later, heading for the elevator when a hand reached out from a door and pulled you in. Your hunting instincts tried to kick in but your assailing had your hands above your head, your body pressed against the wall and his lips to your own in a heated kiss before you could even think. 

Your body celebrated the contact and before you even knew who it was you were kissing back. You assumed it was Dean. That same feeling of rightness washed through most of you and the bits that disagreed were easy to ignore. His body was pressed to yours and burned in the best way wherever there was contact. 

You were breathless by the time the kiss broke and when you looked up to meet his eyes you were met with... a chin...

Your eyes traveled further up to meet gleeful hazel eyes.

“Sorry, I just couldn’t wait any longer,” he whispered with a wide smile before diving in for a second kiss, this time he released your hands in favour of tangling in your hair and pressing into your hip. His desperation and the absolute desire rushing through you masked any pain his hands might have caused in their need.

“Sam,” you uttered in a breathless voice when the second kiss broke but nothing more came out as his lips moved to your neck to gently nip and kiss the skin there.

“I was thinking about you all night.” His voice was so deep and sexy it actually weakened your knees. You had to hold on to his shoulders for dear life to stay up, or perhaps it was because your body was begging for more.

Sam rocked his hips into you and you felt the heavy hardness confined in his jeans. You gasped at the sensation and Sam used that as an invitation to explore your mouth one more time in a fiery kiss.

You were drowning in everything that was Sam and yet there was still that pesky part of you that tugged in another direction. It was irritating and you threw yourself into the kiss in an attempt to make it go away. Sam responded well to your enthusiasm and pulled you away from the wall. You only realized you’d been standing in the stairwell when he took a seat and pulled your legs to straddle him. His hands pressed you hard against his body and you only pulled him tighter. You just wanted this tearing feeling to go away.

ANGEL POV

“What in hell is this?!” Raaiel cried in frustration as the wrong Winchester went at (Y/N). Her enthusiasm at being in his arms was intolerable. 

Raaiel slammed his hand agains the wall to take out his anger and readied all the power he could muster.

YOUR POV

A deafening crack split the two of you up and you both noticed the large crack that had ripped it’s way along the concrete wall. What the....

That’s right! You were on a case!

You quickly shuffled off of Sam’s lap and took a few steps back to catch your breath. What the hell were you doing!? First Dean, now Sam. You had to focus on the job.

“We have to g-” You couldn’t finish your words as the world seemed to shift on you. You started falling to the side but Sam was quick to jump from the stairs and catch you.

SAM POV

When (Y/N) began to fell it was like magnets the way he rushed to her and caught her. Sam helped her stand upright and pressed her weak body against his for support.

“(Y/N), talk to me. What’s wrong?” Sam tried to keep his slight panic out of his voice but it didn’t work very well. 

He watched as her eyes fluttered a bit and focused on his. 

“I’m fine,” she spoke after a moment. Sam’s heart sank. He’d been hoping she’d confide in him, tell him what was wrong so he could fix it, but instead she shut him out by lying.

Worse was the way she pushed at his chest to get some space which Sam reluctantly allowed. 

“We... we have a case and...” She tried to explain.

“Ya, I get it,” Sam inturupted. She didn’t need to elongate the rejection anymore.

She didn’t want him, she wanted someone else, someone better. She’d probably found someone, maybe that mark guy at the front desk, or another guy sitting in those sessions waiting for love. Maybe even Dean. A jolt of anger accompanies Sam’s jealousy and disappointment. Either way someone else was about to be so much luckier than Sam could ever hope to be. They were going to be blessed with-

Suddenly two hands were on his face and two perfect lips pressed to his and all the hurt melted away. Her kiss could heal anything. Sam’s hands immidiatly went to her waist and pulled her close, begging her to let them dive back in to the heat but she had a much stronger will than he and she eventually pulled away.

Sam’s eyes fluttered open to meet hers. She held his gaze and spoke firmly but kindly. If her intention was to get his focus on what she had to say she shouldn’t have had such dazzling (Y/E/C) eyes.

“People are missing, Sam. We have to help them.”

Sam nodded though. He knew she was right even though every cell in his body was begging for more contact with her soft skin.

Sam followed (Y/N) out of the stair well. If she wanted him to keep his hands to himself she shouldn’t have had such sensational curves. He only just managed the task as they got into the elevator.

Do Sam’s dismay the heat was dampened a little more when three tittering women entered the elevator to head down with them. He completely ignored the way they undressed him with their eyes, he was too busy doing the same to (Y/N).

YOUR POV

Thank god those women were in the elevator with them. If they weren’t, you were sure Sam would have jumped you again and you couldn’t say for sure if you’d be able to focus back on the case again. As it was you were using all your strength to stare at the elevator doors rather than meeting Sam’s lustful and powerful gaze.

When the elevator hit the lobby the doors opened they revealed Dean leaning against a wall waiting. His eyes lit up when he saw you. It never failed to shock you how much Dean felt like the Sun to you, brilliant and warm. The sunshine dimmed a bit when Dean noticed his brother behind you but it was still there. You wondered what that might be about but pushed the thought away as a hand pressed to your lower back and ushered you forward. 

Sam didn’t remove his hand until you reached Dean, and even then it was you who side stepped enough for his hand to drop.

“You ready?” Dean asked, placing all his attention on you.

“Ready for what?” Sam interjected.

“Dean and I got invited to a brunch session with Dr. Hardy,” you answered because Dean refused to look at his brother.

“A what?” Sam looked between the two of you. “Don’t you think that’s dangerous?”

Dean finally turned to his brother with fury in his eyes. It shocked you.

“You don’t think I can protect her?”

“I just don’t see a reason to put her in danger at all,” Sam fought back.

You could see both the boys puffing their chests and standing at their full heights. It was intimidating and you tried to speak up but they were too consumed with their sudden anger.

“But you were totally fine with letting her walk into that spa alone,” Dean countered.

“... guys...”

“I didn’t see you stopping her either!” Sam threw back.

“...guys...”

“I was chasing down to instructors! I leave her in your hands for two minutes and...”

“...guys...”

“Oh so this is my fault now?!”

“GUYS!!” You finally screamed and they both turned to you in utter shock at your outburst.

“What the hell is up with you two?! Since when am I something to be handed off and protected?!” This wasn’t the boys you knew. They’d never treat you like a civilian instead of a hunter. “We’re. On. A. Case.” You enunciated each word with purpose, staring the two of them down before continuing. “Stow whatever the hell this is until we’re done, got it?”

The boys were still in shock but both nodded.

“Good,” You refocused. “Now Dean and I are going to that session. Sam, you track down Macy. She came to my room last night, I think she saw a demon but we’ll need more info.”

Sam sighed but you knew he was relenting to your plan. Dean tried to hide his thrill at having won as best as he could.

“Come on,” you rolled your eyes and grabbed Dean’s hand, pulling him towards your session before releasing him to walk beside you.

You thought logically. You didn’t need to check where you came from, the ladies room was clear. And you knew they weren’t in your class so you could cross off the doorway you’d come through minutes ago. That still left five doorways to choose.

You crept closer to each doorway and listened intently for any sounds or smells. It wasn’t until the third door that you finally heard something. Murmured voices.

You slipped down the hallway which was filled with more doors. Thankfully they were all open, dark and silent. Peering in you could see this was for personal massages, with a table in the centre of a small relaxing room. You eased down the hall, getting closer to the voices until you found the right room. It was easy to spot, not only was it the only room with voices it was also the only room with it’s lights on. You pressed yourself against the wall by the door and listened in.

“I don’t like this...”

“I don’t care!”

ANGEL POV

Lerrilia sat nervously on the massage table. “But it doesn’t seem ri....”

“They’re fine!” Raaiel raged. “Happier than ever! So stop worrying!”

“If anyone knew what we’re do-” Lerrilia began, only to be interrupted.

“They’d be proud! In all this chaos we are doing our duties still. They should be following our example.” Raaiel fumed as he paced around the floor. He looked up to see his fellow angel staring at her hands and feeling small. Raaiel sighed.

“It’s almost over, Lerrilia,” he was much softer as he spoke. “One mission and we can go back to the way we use to do things.” He stepped close and placed a hand on Lerrilia’s shoulders, waiting until she looked up at him. “This is important, God’s mission.”

YOUR POV

“God’s mission?” You whispered to yourself.

“Hey!”

You turned at the voice calling to you. ‘Oh crap.’

ANGEL POV

Raaiel heard the shout outside his door and in a flash he and Lerrilia were standing in the hallway just in time to see Digaria, or as the girl would know her Ivy, holding (Y/N) by the neck against the wall.

In one quick look Raaiel know the girl had seen too much but... “Is the violence really necessary, Digaria?”

The angel looked wide eyed at Raaiel before rolling her eyes and putting the girl down. Still her hand remained on her throat to keep her in place.

“You’re being awful troublesome to me,” Raaiel addressed the girl.

“I’m known to do that when monsters are kidnapping people,” she retorted.

“We’re no monsters-” Raaiel began but (Y/N) interrupted him.

“No, you’re angels!” 

So she knew. That was definitely too much.

“I believe this conversation is over,” Raaiel decided before placing two fingers against (Y/N)’s forehead. Her body slumped and Digaria easily swept the girls sleeping body in their arms.

“Take her to her room.” Raaiel instructed. “And make sure she doesn’t remember this.”

And with that he flew away in a flutter of sound for Lerrilia and Digaria to clean this mess up.

DEAN POV

Antoine and Ivy stood in Debra’s office. They waited and waited and Dean was becoming annoyed that he’d elected to follow them. He could have been back at the spa finding out what he could from witnesses and police. He could have been waiting there for (Y/N) to appear from the spa area with new evidence.

Instead he was waiting at the front desk watching two masseuses and giving Mark, the front desk employee, a dirty glare when he could. He figured this was a bust until he noticed Ivy and Antoine speaking close to one another and sparing a glance at... him. Oh crap! Had he been spotted? Was his cover blown?

Dean’s fists tightened as Ivy moved from the office. He was preparing for a fight until she passed him and headed for the spa again. Maybe he was fine. He was a little off his game after all. (Y/N) was proving to be a serious distraction for him. Still, they’d have to be careful, just in case he was right about being caught.

His phone rang in his pocket just then. Sam’s name was displayed.

“Ivy’s headed your way,” he spoke instead of a typical greeting.

“What?” Sam asked.

“One of the massage instructors from our class. Her and Antoine were waiting in Debra’s office,” he checked over his shoulder to be sure Antoine was still there. “We’re gonna need to keep an eye out for gum under our shoes.”

“You think they might know we’re here?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know, just a feeling I’m getting.” 

There was a moment of quiet. Dean was sure Sam was thinking the same thing he was. This case was getting more dangerous.

“What did you find?” Dean refocused.

“Two people missing, again. They were headed into a class. Witnesses say they were there in the hallway but never made it through the door.”

“Let me guess, they were partners in the class.” 

“One of their friends said they were really hitting it off.”

“So definitely a couples thing,” Dean ran a hand across his face. At least they knew something for sure.

“Ya, what I don’t get is why they’re doing it out in the open?” Sam asked.

“Stepping up their game?” Dean guessed.

“But why? Especially if you think they might know there are hunters nearby.”

“Maybe they have a quota to meet and we’re putting the heat on them to get it done fast.”

“Maybe,” Sam was silent as he thought for a moment. “Alright, I’ll stick around and meet up with (Y/N), see what she finds out. Meet us in my room when you’re done.”

“Which will be sooner rather than later if Debra never shows.” This waiting was really starting to bore Dean, especially knowing (Y/N) would be alone with Sam in a moment.

“Alright, watch out.”

“Will do,” Dean hung up and set himself to wait this out. They were on a case. He had to see what he could find. Even if every cell in his body was begging him to go find (Y/N)

SAM POV

Two hours! It had been two hours since Sam had seen (Y/N) head back into that spa. An hour since the police had cleared the spa and deemed no one was in there and twenty minutes since he and his brother had snuck in there and checked themselves. 

Where the hell was she!?

Sam was wracked with fear. The idea that she wasn’t safe, that she could be hurt or scared, it was sending Sam into a panic he just couldn’t seem to fight down. He could tell his brother felt the same way as they ran through the halls towards the elevator.

They’d decided to check Sam’s room as that’s the last place they’d decided to meet. Maybe she’d decided to wait there. Though it did strike Sam that they’d never actually told (Y/N) that was where they’d meet. But they were panicked and looking for any answers.

Sam pulled out his phone for the seventeenth time and dialed (Y/N)’s number. Dean watched him eagerly as the phone rang once... twice... three times... four ti-

“Hello?”

Sam had never heard a sweeter more beautiful sound than (Y/N)’s scratchy voice. 

“(Y/N), Where are you!?” Sam demanded. For a moment he was sure Dean was about to rip the phone out of his hand as he realized the call had finally gone through.

“I’m....” the silence she provided was agonizing. “...in my room.” The sounded confused by her own words. 

“We’re on our way!” Sam hit the button for one floor up.

“Where is she?! Is she okay?” Dean finally spoke, unable to keep quiet anymore.

“In her room,” Sam answered quickly. “Are you okay?” he spoke into the phone.

“Fine, just... groggy,” she answered.

When the door opened for their original floor Sam reached over and hammered on the close door button.

“Come on!” Sam uttered through gritted teeth. This machine could not move any slower.

“I don’t know how I got here,” (Y/N) admitted.

“It’s okay. We’ll be there soon. We’ll figure out what happened, I promise.” Finally, the door closed!

“Okay,” her voice was faint, the way it got when she was answering from deep in thought.

“Just hold on,” he continued to reassure. Sam knew he could have hung up the phone now that they knew where she was but Sam couldn’t bear to do that.

When the doors opened Sam and Dean bolted for her room. Sam was the first to reach the door thanks to his longer legs. He reached for the door knob and tried it. To his panic Sam found it locked. It should have made sense, this was a hotel, but in his mind he just couldn’t get to her fast enough. Dean smacked his hand away and tried himself before knocking hard on the solid door.

“(Y/N), it’s us! Open up,” he spoke into the phone as he banged on the door.

The world seemed to slow as the knob turned and the door creaked open. Sam could see just the edge of her before Dean was throwing the door open and wrapping (Y/N) in his arms. He held her tightly and although that bothered Sam greatly, the sight of her face over his shoulder was the greatest sense of relief he’d ever felt. 

She was there. She was breathing. That’s all that mattered.

“Are you okay?! What the hell happened?” Dean questioned.

(Y/N) seemed taken aback by their worry, which seemed odd. Did she not know how important she was to him? To them both?

“I’m fine, I.... I don’t know...”

Sam couldn’t handle it anymore. He all but ripped (Y/N) out of Dean’s arms and held her tightly. It felt a million times better to be holding her. She felt so warm and real and the last of Sam’s worry was finally quenched. God, she felt so right in his arms, like his body was meant to wrap around hers.

Sam was willing to hold her for the rest of the night but he felt (Y/N) slowly push away after a long moment. 

“I’m fine guys, really,” she tried to reassure but as she moved away her eyes unfocused and she lost her balance. Both Sam and Dean each caught an arm and lead (Y/N) gently to sit on the end of her bed. Sam took a seat beside her and began softly rubbing her back. 

Dean had crouched before her, placing his hands on her knees and looking up to see her downturned face. He reached up and tucked some hair behind her ear.

“What happened?” Dean asked what both were wondering.

YOUR POV

What had happened?

“I remember...” you struggled to think back before you woke in your bed. “I went into the fitting rooms. I... walked into the main area and....” You looked up to your concerned boys, “...nothing. I don’t remember anything after that.”

The boys shared a look and turned back to you.

“So nothing weird happened? No flickering lights? Cold spots? Smells?” Dean probed gently.

You shook your head. “Nothing. I was just walking and then... I wasn’t.” 

God this was confusing. What the hell had happened to you.

“That’s fine. We’ll figure out what happened,” Sam assured you but you were still thinking.

“Why wasn’t I kidnapped? Why did I end up here?” You asked. You were getting a little annoyed with yourself for not being able to answer these questions.

“Maybe it’s because I wasn’t there,” Dean offered. “They usually take couples after all.”

“Or maybe you aren’t falling for anyone yet,” Sam spoke up, irritation clear in his voice as he looked down at his brother. Dean returned that irritated look. You, on the other hand, had no time to worry about their fighting when your case was providing more questions than answers.

You stood and walked away from the boys. You could see their disappointed faces in the reflection of a nearby mirror but you made no motion to turn back to them.

“It doesn’t make any sense!” You were really frustrated with this case, and perhaps a little worried. You could have been kidnapped after all. Perhaps that was what the real problem was. 

You sighed deeply. “Well we’re up to eleven and that’s not a sacred number so a god’s out.”

“It could still be a god,” Dean tried to comfort.

“It could be anything at this point,” you countered. “How are we no where closer to finding this thing? What are we missing?” You finally turned back to the boys so see they’d both stood and looked like they were about to run to you.

Well... you had disappeared for a while so that was understandable, you supposed.

You were surprised to hear a knock at the door. Both boys went on alert immediately. They both pulled out hidden pistols from their pants and moved to the door as a team. Sam was the one to open the door, his pistol held against the door while Dean waited to strike if needed. 

They were being quite dramatic and you knew there was no danger when Sam’s shoulders immediately released. 

A small voice asked to come in and Sam let the door open, hiding his weapon as quick as he could.

Lacy, the girl you’d run into that morning, entered the room. Well, guess that meant you’d missed dinner.

“Lacy,” you spoke.

“It’s um... Macy.”

You blushed a bit. “Right, um... sorry. I uh, I’ve been busy checking with the... spirits.”

Dean raised his eyebrow and Sam met his eyes to have one of their silent conversations.

Macy’s eyes lit up. “You have? Do they know where Sheila is? Oh god! She’s not... she’s not dead. Is she?”

“No, I mean, I haven’t heard anything. How about we sit down, I have some questions that might help me find her.”

Macy nodded and moved for a chair within the room and you moved to the other available chair. She looked over to the door and gasped, surprised to see Dean. She gave a nervous wave.

“That’s Dean, and you know Sam,” you introduced. “Dean, this is Macy. Her friend Sheila is missing.”

Macy bowed her head and you reached out to take her hand. “We’ll find her,” you reassured though you weren’t sure if you were reassuring Macy or yourself.

“So, Sheila was really hitting it off with someone, wasn’t she?” You began.

Macy seemed shocked and wide eyed. “You really are psychic, aren’t you?”

You didn’t confirm or deny her guess.

“She was,” Macy continued. “She’d met this guy named Greg and they were really falling for each other.”

“Was there anything weird about the way they got along?” Sam asked and took a seat on the edge of your bed to address Macy.

“No, they just clicked and I was really happy for her.” She reached out and took both Sam and you hand. “I really was, you have to believe me!” Her sudden panic was strange.

“We believe you,” you stated. 

Macy smiled at your words and slowly took her hands back to fold into her lap. She looked a little embarrassed and sad. “Sorry, some people think I helped. That I was jealous and did something. They don’t think that now, too many people are gone and I never met them but... it was hard... the first few days.”

You nodded and gave a soft smile. “What happened, the day she disappeared?” You asked, getting her back on track.

“She and Greg went off to have dinner and I never saw her after that. Greg was missing too. It’s not like they ran away! All her things are still in her room... or... they were, but the hotel had to clear it all out and hand it over to the cops.”

“Which room was she staying in?” Dean asked, taking a place next to his brother.

“Umm, actually... this one,” Macy looked over to you, “That’s why you’re staying here, isn’t it?”

Again you didn’t confirm or deny anything. It did seem odd that you were staying in a missing woman’s room after going missing yourself only hours before.

“Was there anything else strange? The way Sheila was behaving? Odd smells, cold spots, strange people you’ve noticed here?”

Macy thought for a moment.

“Well... there was...” She shook her head. “No I can’t-”

“There’s something,” You reached for Macy’s hand again. “You’re not telling me because you think it’s crazy.” Her eye’s were wide again, clearly taking your guess as an act of psychic power.

“I-I.... I know it’s crazy but, I... smelt... sulfer...”

Macy seemed to have spooked herself and stood in a quick motion. “I-I... I’m sorry... I have... I have to.... go...” She ran for the door.

“Wait! Macy!” You called after her but she was out the door in a second. You opened the door to chase after her but there was no sign of her. She was quick apperenly. 

You closed the door and turned to the boys.

“Demons,” Dean voiced.

“Maybe their making deals? Playing match mater?” Sam offered.

“It’s the perfect hunting grounds, desperate people who don’t want to be alone,” Dean agreed.

“But why are they disappearing?” You asked.

No one knew the answer to that.

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose, getting a headache from all this. Sam was at your side in seconds. His hands reached for you, one on your lower back while the other took your hand from your face so he could meet your eyes.

“Are you okay?”

You couldn’t answer him, you were too stunned by his touch. It was a more intense spark than usual. You were getting accustomed to the casual buzz each of the boys caused in you but this? This was almost harsh.

After a moment Dean made it to your other side. “(Y/N),” he softly called.

“I’m... I’m fine. I’m good,” You assured them both and moved away from them. Their effect was dizzying on you. Or perhaps it was all the stress you were putting on yourself to get the case solved. Eleven was a big number after all. In all honesty this program should have been closed with a number like that. Why wasn’t it....

Sam’s phone began ringing in his pocket loudly. He pulled it out and silenced the thing. “Crap, that’s for our yoga class.” His eyes raised to meet yours. He looked like he was begging but you weren’t sure what he was begging for.

“We don’t have to...” he spoke quietly. 

“No, we should,” you insisted. “We know there’s gotta be something about that spa. Let me get changed and I’ll meet you in five, okay?” 

Same gave a nod. He took four hand for a moment to squeeze it reassuringly before leaving the room to get changed. You began looking in your bag to find something to wear when Dean surprised you by taking your hand and pulling you into another tight hug. 

You were sure he could feel your heart thundering through your chest pressed tightly to his. Your hand naturally fell to the back of his neck where you brushed your fingers through his hair.

“What’s wrong,” you whispered to Dean. You were worried, so worried. Dean never acted like this. He did so well at hiding his emotions. You were happy to be there when they broke thru but that didn’t cease your worry.

Dean buried his face into your neck and spoke against the skin there. “I...” he took a deep breath of your skin, “I didn’t know where you were and...” The paused, unable to voice his thoughts. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

That was Dean, unable to voice his inner thoughts. Not even daring to whisper the truth allowed but you understood every word. 

“It’s okay, I’m here. I’m okay,” You reassured him, all the while running a calming hand through his hair. You were so lost in your actions, trying to calm this man in your arms that you almost didn’t notice the small kiss he pressed to your neck before finally pulling back and clearing his throat.

You wouldn’t have noticed the soft press of his lips, were it not for the lightening bolt it sent straight through your body.

“I’ll let you get changed,” Dean uttered before turning and leaving your room. You were left to stand completely still for at least five minutes wondering what the hell had just happened. Your hand pressed to the place where he’d kissed you, it was easy to find as it still burned in the best way.

After a shuttering breath you finally moved and changed into something you could attempt this yoga class in. One tank top, a pair of shorts and a hair tie later and you were standing in the elevator heading down to the main floor.

As soon as the elevator dinged you surged forward only to thump into a broad chest and be wrapped up in warms that started that familiar hum all over again.

“I was just coming up to check on you,” Sam spoke, looking down at you with a smile.

“Sorry, I didn’t have much to wear.” You explained. Short shorts were not exactly what you wanted to be wearing for a yoga class but you had little choice. Sam on the other hand looked amazing in his tank top, showing off those incredible arms, and his shorts which you recognized as the ones that were just tight enough to display that great ass.

“You had a hard time finding something to wear?” Sam questioned with a raised eyebrow.

You smacked him in the chest for his teasing but smiled all the same. “Just because I pack a lot doesn’t mean I pack everything.”

Sam just laughed and finally separated from you. He took your hand and threaded his fingers with yours. “Come on, we don’t want to be late.”

You followed Sam as he lead you back to the spa area which held a sign. ‘CLASSES MOVED, PLEASE CHECK WITH THE FRONT DESK FOR NEW ROOMS AND TIMES.’

You were tempted to try and search the spa again but Sam was already towing you towards the front desk. You opened your mouth to protest but Sam spoke first.

“We should be concentrating on the instructors and the class, not just the spa. Not all of the disappearances happened there,” you wanted to further protest but Sam’s puppy eyes were beginning to show and you knew you couldn’t fight that.

You soon found yourself at the front desk where Debra greeted you. She seemed surprise to see Sam holding your hand and her gaze made you feel odd. Perhaps it was because her eyes weren’t really ready surprise, they were more akin to seeing something wrong. Either way you slowly pulled your hand out of Sam’s

“What can I help you with?” She spoke in her chipper voice that didn’t quite reach those eyes.

“We’re signed up for couples yoga,” Sam explained.

“Really? You two?”

You were confused by Debra’s questions. Why was that so surprising? Why did she care? Didn’t she want people to couple up? Wasn’t that her job?

“Yes, so if you could point us in the right direction,” Sam was almost defensive in his words. Scratch that, Sam was very defensive in his words.

“Oh I think it was canc-” Debra didn’t get to finish. Mark was calling her name instead.

“Hey, Deb. What room did you say couples yoga moved too?”

You and Sam both looked in Mark’s direction to see another two sets of couples in yoga gear.

Through gritted teeth posed as a smile, Debra answered Mark. “Let me just,” she pretended to flit through her papers. “Oh, here we are! Couples Yoga is in meeting room 426.” She turned back to you and Sam, “I hope that helps.”

“Thanks,” Sam responded with a smug sass you didn’t often hear in his voice. He placed an arm around your waist now and guided you back to the elevators.

“I really don’t like her,” Sam spoke in your ear when the elevator doors closed. You tried to tell yourself he’d whispered it because of the other two couples in the elevator with you, but the way he lingered and his breath fanned over your skin told your body otherwise. And your body responded with that glorious hum and a flurry of butterflies in your stomach.

All six of you exited on the fourth floor and made your way to the conference room. You could see why they’d chosen it for yoga. It was a corner room and two of the four walls were entirely made of windows from floor to ceiling. It caught the incredible sunset beginning over the mountains. Oh god it was gorgeous. You couldn’t help but stop and stare with a hanging jaw at the sight before you.

You heard Sam chuckle beside you, “Come on.” 

He lead you towards a set of yoga mats in the back corner where the two windows met. Two jewel tone blues that popped on the dark hardwood floor with a pillow to the side of Sam’s. Most of the couples were choosing mats up close to the front. You could just tell that most had never done yoga before. Honestly you’d only done it once or twice yourself but you knew that Sam would be there the whole time to make sure you didn’t embarrass yourself.

It took a while before someone finally came in and took control of the class.

“Hello everyone, my name is Tamika and I’ll be your yoga guide today.”

This woman couldn’t be more new age if she tried. But she gave off a docile and calm vibe that everyone in the room seemed to respond to so you felt a little more relaxed with her at the helm. She opened by explaining some rules about cell phones and negative vibes then gave a little talk on breathing and ended with a small bit about moving with your partner to become more intimate and trusting.

You looked over at Sam. You realized then you had no idea what couples yoga looked like. You’d imagined couples just doing yoga next to each other but you were beginning to gather that this would be much more hands on with the other person. That hum you usually got from Sam was already starting up in anticipation.

“Alright, lets begin by becoming connected with one another,” Tamika instructed as she started some slow meditation music.

The first few minutes were easy. Deep breathing while facing each other. taking each others hands and more breathing. It was nice, relaxing and you were surprised how quickly your breathing and Sam’s breathing synced.

You only felt that jolt of nerves again when Tamika announced your first position. 

“Start by sitting back to back with each other, your legs crossed in front of you, hands on your knees. Take deep breaths.”

You did as Tamika instructed, breathing deeply with your eyes closed.

“Now I’d like you to twist to your right, and move your left hand onto your right knee and your right hand onto your partners left knee.”

Again you moved with Sam and honestly this didn’t feel too hard. If this was couples yoga you had no need to be worried. You switched to the other side after a moment and your next position came. 

Again it was easy, or rather it didn’t put you in a very sexual position. Sam leaned forward while you leaned back. Your hands above your head, he gently took your wrists and pulled to help you stretch. This actually felt really good. You returned the favour, switching positions after a moment.

You and Sam looked sensational as you moved. You were slow and totally in sync. Your breathing helped you each sink deeper and deeper into the poses. You really were putting the other couples to shame.

Until your next position came.

You moved into downward facing dog as instructed while Sam stood just in front of your hands. Then he was told to place his hands on your lower back and plank that way. It wasn’t too bad, he had a front row seat to your ass but still not that bad. Then the next instruction, he was to press his chest to that lower back and his hands slowly slipped down to press into the front of your thighs. It was meant to help your form but all you could think of was how close Sam was, how much of his body touched yours and how his hands felt on your thighs. His whole torso was alined with your chest and he felt to warm against you. Oh your mind was heading elsewhere when Tamika called for the next pose. You were just as thankful as you were sad to move.

You had a receive when Sam was told to head into downward facing dog and you formed an ‘L’ with your feet on his lower back. But the poses moved on from there and only got more challenging and Tamika’s instructions became more about the intimacy. 

The next pose required Sam to hold you up by his feet. That wasn’t too hard, his held you at your hips while his hands held yours.

“Now ladies, lay your hands over his so that your being supported by your forearms, your palms pressing together. As you lean forward to do this, bend your knees so that your feet touch and your knees are wide.”

“That sounds impossible,” you murmured to yourself.

“Don’t worry,” Sam spoke, meeting your eyes with his warm hazel gaze. “I’ve got you.”

You just couldn’t resist those eyes. You transitioned slowly, trusting Sam but moving little by little until you actually reached the pose. You were so focused on Sam, losing yourself as you moved together and trusted each other, that you didn’t even notice when Tamika complimented the two of you on your form.

Upon Tamika’s command, you found the floor again and this time moved back onto Sam’s feet the other way. With your back being held up you curled. Sam reached down to hold your ankles and you reached back to gently cradle his head. The stretch was incredible and Sam made you feel like you were good at this. You held the pose with a smile, looking upside down at your partners face only inches away.

“If you feel comfortable, this would be a good time to share a kiss with your partner.”

Your blood ran cold.

Under the golden light of sunset, Sam looked too good to resist. You could feel it. You wanted to kiss him while you were connected like this but kissing was something new and different. It was something you’d never done with either of the boys. Should you?

Sam seemed like he didn’t need to ask the question. Eyes still locked, he began moving forward. Your eyes fluttered shut but Tamika broke the motion with more instructions. It seemed you’d taken too long to decide on the kiss. The moment drifted away and you and Sam moved into the next position.

You continued like this. Moving as one, stretching and breathing and looking like professionals as the sun set over the stunning view beside you. Meanwhile inside you were just about losing it. Every once of skin he touched, every moment his weight pressed against you, every time his strength supported you, every second that his scent wafted towards you, ever deep stretch he helped with, it was all driving you insane. You were desperately trying to keep your breath even and slow but moments caught you off guard where your breathing hitched and you were sure Sam could hear it every time. His winning smirk confirmed that.

By the time you were trying child’s pose over child’s pose it was becoming too much. Sam’s form over yours was too much contact, his scent overwhelming you, it was too intimate and you let out the smallest sigh that could have been a moan. Thank god only Sam could hear it but at the same time you were cursing yourself for letting Sam hear it.

All this amplified when you reached the poses that seemed the most sexual. Face to face you sat between Sam’s legs, your legs draped over his so you were pretty much sitting in his lap. He was so close to you that you lost all hope of breathing normally. 

Of course this would be the moment Tamkia took to remind couples of their breathing. You tried to get yours under control but each deep breath Sam’s broad chest took was almost too much. His arms were wrapped around you and laced together at your lower back which kept you so close. Your own hands had a hard time staying at his shoulders.

“Now one at a time, one partner will lean back, the other will support their back as they go, and when you come back up you can share a kiss if you feel comfortable.”

Oh god, another opportunity for a kiss.

You were the first to lean back. You went to the floor and back up slowly. Sam helped you up until your chest was pressing against his. Your breathing was long forgotten and you stayed in that moment for a while. Your eyes flicked to his lips and his did the same with yours. But Tamika was encouraging the switch so you laced your fingers behind Sam’s back and watched as he leaned back. 

God he was bendy. As he came up it was a replay of your moment seconds before. You stared at each other, lips parted just begging to be kissed while your mind fought with the decision. 

You leaned back and coming up you could hardly breathe. Sam went back, your eyes roaming his chest all the way down to the small bar of skin revealed by his shirt riding up.

When he came back up, you noticed that Sam was much closer. You could just feel the feather light touch of his lips. A whisper of air between you as he nearly brushed against you. You’d stopped breathing all together until you suddenly leaned back. 

Coming back up though, you just couldn’t stop it. You couldn’t think let alone make an argument against it. So when Sam’s lips inched towards yours, you let them. And when he kissed you, you kissed back. 

If you thought physical contact was creating a humming sensation, it was nothing compared to his kiss. It was like a raging forest fire in heat that burnt it’s memory into your lips. Even though it was a slow and lingering kiss, you felt the fire beneath it. When the kiss broke you were absolutely breathless.

It wasn’t your turn but you went back again, just to get some distance between you and Sam but this time he leaned forward with you, his lips grazing down your neck and chest. When you came back up you were nearly dizzy from it.

Finally Tamika gave more instruction and the leaning ended. That didn’t stop Sam though. The instruction was to hug in this pose, which gave Sam prime access to your neck where he began adorning you with slow and sensual kisses. Your breathing was speeding compared to everyone else. You held the pose for as long as you could but the moment Tamika called for another pose you were quick to move, if only to keep yourself from making any obscene sounds. 

The last pose was for a meditation. 

“I’d like you to lay with your partner on your side in what is commonly know as spooning but what I like to call the cradled lovers pose. You can use the nearby pillows to make yourself feel more comfortable.”

Sam didn’t even think. He was already grabbing the pillow and lying down, waiting for you to do the same. When you did he pulled you in tightly to his own body. Your back now firmly pressed against Sam’s chest, you could concentrate on matching his breathing now.

“Feel free to hold your partners hands or stroke your partners skin to feel close and calm together.”

Again without thought, Sam began running his fingers feather light up and down your arm. It was hard not to feel relaxed like this. The meditation lasted for a while and honestly with Sam’s constant attention you nearly fell asleep. Just as your eyes were fluttering shut for sleep, Tamika ended the class.

You and Sam reluctantly stood and took your time, waiting for the class to empty for the chance to speak with Tamika. It didn’t take long for people to clear out, and luckily Tamika had stuck around.

“Ah, my two experienced partners,” She offered warmly.

“Thank you for the class, it was very.... relaxing,” you offered.

“You are very welcome.”

“It’s a great class considering the stress going around,” Sam added.

“The stress?” Tamika questioned, unsure of Sam’s meaning.

“Well, with the disappearances,” Sam clarified.

“Oh yes, of course. It’s all very unfortunate.” Tamika seemed genuinely saddened by the reminder.

“We heard there were some strange smells around her ever since they started. rotten eggs or something-” you tried to casually lead in but Tamika was already answering.

“Negative vibes. Sometimes they take on the form of sound or smell.” She was very factual about this information.

“So you smelt something like that too?” You tried again.

“No, I can’t say that I have. But I am usually lighting incense so I’m not sure I could smell it even if the negative vibes came close to me.”

You nodded, “So have you seen anyone effected by the... ummm... negative vibes? Anyone acting odd because of them?”

“Yes, of course,” you got hopeful as Tamika spoke. “Tense muscles, unaligned chakras, darkened auras. It’s all around.” Your hopes fell.

“Of course, but anything else? Like, changed moods? Aggression?” Sam tried to prob.

“Hmm... not that I’ve seen. Everyone is pretty concentrated on finding a connection here.”

Damn, so you had nothing to go on. If there were demons involved, they were going pretty incognito.

“You two should come to my Tantric Lover’s Yoga tomorrow,” you’re eyes went wide at Tamika’s sudden comment. Your jaw dropped and though a spew of words tried to come up at once, nothing actually came out of your mouth.

“I sense a lot of sexual energy in you two,” Tamika continued, further rendering you incompetent and incoherent. 

“I-I-I...” You were blushing madly as you stuttered, hoping that forcing any sound from your mouth might help. 

“It’s noting to be ashamed of,” Tamika assured you. “Our sexual nature should be explored and shared with others.”

Silence, nothing but silence from your gaping mouth.

“We should get going,” Sam finally rescued you. He didn’t sound nearly as shocked as you did. In fact, looking at him, he looked downright pleased. “It was a pleasure taking your class, Tamika.”

“Namaste,” Tamika spoke with a little bow.

“Namaste,” Sam returned with his own bow.

“N-namaste,” you whispered, still in shock, with your own tiny bow and before you knew it Sam was leading you out of the class room and down the hall to your room.

DEMON POV

“Their progress is encouraging but we need more concrete results.”

“But Raaiel and Lerrilia might begin to notice,” Soabriel spoke in her soft and frightened voice.

“I don’t care!” the Demon shouted. “You do remember why we’re doing this-”

“Yes,” Soabriel interrupted. It was clear she was reliving unpleasant memories from the not so distant past.

“Good, now kick it up a notch. I want more than just a steamy kiss. I want brother splitting results.”

“How about we see if we can grab the vics schedules. See if there’s anything in common.”

Both brothers looked at each other, sharing a silent conversation before agreeing to your third option.

“Good,” you added before turing on your heel and walking towards the front again.

ANGEL POV

Soabriel watched the three hunters walk by, unaware of their presence.

“Raaiel says we should take another set, herd them into the workshops so we can keep an eye on them.” Jaiphim

“Do we have to?” Soabriel whined.

“Orders are orders,” Jaiphim shrugged.

Soabriel sighed and nodded. “Fine, you go ahead and find a set. I’ll follow them and make sure they don’t wander off too far.”

Jaiphim nodded and disappeared with the flap of his wings, leaving Soabriel to stare down the hall at the hunters, and past them at Haaniel who stared back expectantly. Soabriel knew what she had to do.

YOUR POV

Sam and Dean planned to round the corner as soon as the coast was clear while you distracted the front desk employee.

You walked up and waited until... Mark, or so his name tag said, approached you.

“Is there something I can help you with?”

“Ya, I umm... I was wondering if your umm... spa was running?” Real smooth, (Y/N).

Mark didn’t seem to notice and answered smoothly. “I’m sorry but the spa is running classes for the retreat.”

You did your best to look disappointed while you clearly watched as Sam and Dean snuck into the back office Debra usually appeared from. “Damn, I was really hoping to get a massage.”

“Well you could find a partner and sign up for one of the workshops taking place.” Mark offered, trying to be helpful.

You looked conflicted, “That would depend on me finding a partner. No offence but the guys here are kind of... desperate.”

Mark seemed to drop his employee status for a second and genuinely spoke. “I kind of get what you mean.”

You jumped on the opportunity for conversation and leaned in to the counter to talk quietly. “I mean, I just wish they’d calm down and have a normal conversation!”

“You should see the women who come here. It’s like I’m a piece of meat and I’m only handing them towels and room keys!”

You laughed and continued the conversation with Mark, who was... actually pretty funny, while you watched the door Dean and Sam slipped through.

SAM POV

Dean searched the filing cabinets while Sam checked the desktop computer. It seemed like just another hotel computer. Probably for the hotel manager as there were no signs that Debra logged in at any time. Still Sam checked for anything hidden or deleted.

“I got it,” Dean called. Sam turned around to see Dean with a file drawer marked archives on it. He fingered through folders, pulling out the names of the vics and piling them on Sam’s arms when he moved close.

His fingers brushed over (Y/L/N), (Y/N) and both brothers tensed. It was wrong. It was so wrong to look through (Y/N)’s file. But the temptation to see how she answered her questionnaire was so heavy on Sam’s chest. Oh he wanted to see. He wanted to know.

Dean seemed to be thinking the same thing as his hand hovered over the file.

“We shouldn’t,” he spoke after audibly swallowing.

“I know,” Sam answered but neither moved. Sam turned to look out the mostly closed office blinds when he noticed (Y/N) leaning in too closely for Sam’s liking to the hotel desk staff.

“What, is someone coming?” Dean asked when Sam’s body language changed but when he noticed the same thing Sam had, his body language changed to match.

“I think this is all we need,” Dean spoke harshly. Sam couldn’t even respond, his jaw was so tense as he watched. Were they flirting? Did she like him? It shouldn’t matter what the answers were but it did.

MARK POV

This girl was cute. And really nice to talk to. It was so clear to him that she wasn’t the desperate woman who usually found herself at these conventions. Maybe she was here for a friend. Maybe she’d been hurt... like, really hurt in the past and she was just hoping to heal a bit.

Either way Mark was having fun.

“I mean he has groupies! He’s worse than Dr. Phil!” She laughed.

“If I had 5 bucks for every time someone has bribed me with 5 bucks for his room number... oh wait... I do!” Mark pulled out the two five dollar bills he’s received today. They’d been offered as tips when he asked it they really thought bribery would work but he knew what they were really for.

The girl laughed with disbelief as Mark tucked the bills away again. Maybe he should ask her out. She might say yes if she was having such a bad time at the retreat.

“Hey, there’s a great...”

Mark was forced to trail off when two huge men moved to stand on either side of the girl. Both stood at their full towering height with their shoulders back.

“Hey guys!” the girl between them spoke casually, unaware of the intimidating hostility on each of their faces. “Mark was just dishing the dirt on desperate women.”

“Ya...” Mark spoke, shrinking away from the desk. The girl went from charming to a little confused in a second and checked on her companions. She straightened her own back and took a step away from the desk.

“Anyway, we should go. See you around, Mark.” She turned and hustled away but it took a moment for her friends to do the same. If looks could kill, Mark was sure he’d be dead three times over by now.

Guess he wasn’t asking that girl out anytime soon.

YOUR POV

You walked quickly away from Mark. You finally came to a stop out of his line of sight.

“What the hell did you find?! Is he our guy?” The way they were acting... he’d have to be a sick bastard. What the hell did they find out?

The boys looked to each other confused for a moment.

“What?” Dean asked.

“The.... the guy... Mark. You... you were... Didn’t you find something on him?” You tried to clarify.

“Should we have?” Sam asked.

“You.... What the hell guys!? You looked like you were about to tear him apart!” You threw your hands up in exasperation. The boys shared a look again.

“We just... we didn’t like him,” Dean tried to explain.

“You don’t like a lot of people around here,” you murmured but made a mental note to add in your ‘The-Winchesters-Are-Being-Weird’ file. “So what did you get then?”

As though finally remembering their purpose, the boys showed you the many files they’d snagged. All of which were labeled with the vics names. Perfect.

“Great, lets--” before you could finish Dr. Hardy walked past the three of you... and then a hoard of followers knocked past you. They shoved and pushed and you ended up being shoved into the wall beside Sam who had also been pushed. What the hell was with these people. As the flood of people moved past you could see Dean had been pushed to the other side of the hall. Both men moved to your side and began checking for wounds again. You couldn’t complain because you were doing the same to each boy.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean explained. “These people are going to kill us.”

You all nodded.

“Mental note: We’ve got to check what’s up with Dr. Hardy.” You spoke to the boys before getting back to what you were saying. “Alright, lets head to one of your rooms and look over everything. There’s gotta be a pattern here.”

You all headed much more cautiously to the elevator, each boy flanking you.

ANGEL POV

“This is ridiculous!! We need real results here!!” Raaiel exclaimed.

SAM POV

Sam sat in the chair in one corner of his room. He held three of the vics files in his hand. It was hard to discern any answers from them. They contained their sign up questions, an assessment sheet with suggestions for most beneficial classes and workshops. The only real list of attended classes was another sheet listing appointment times for workshops taking place in the resort spa. Beyond that it was a total guess as to which classes the vics attended.

(Y/N) had already come to the conclusion that each vic varied in age and their sex was split pretty evenly so there wasn’t too much of a pattern there.

Of course none of this factored in the real reason why Sam couldn’t concentrate.

How could he focus on subtle patterns in the paperwork when he could be memorizing the subtle pattern in your eyes. Each soft sigh you breathed drew his attention to you and even the innocent tapping of your pen softly on the bed had his mind so focused on the movement he almost forgot to watch you out of his peripherals. Twice already you’d captured your lip between your teeth while concentrating and Sam had to fight a raging boner imagining his own lips biting down on that bottom lip.

He looked to Dean every once in a while, resenting his presence and the ridiculous pact they’d made.

DEAN POV

Dean looked over to his brother, resenting his presence and the ridiculous pact they’d made.

He stood by the window, leaning against the wall so that when he wasn’t looking at his three folders he could look out the window, which was really his way of watching (Y/N) in it’s reflection. God she was driving him crazy.

After tapping her pen on the covers of Sam’s bed she’d gently bite the tip for a moment. The small movement would have Dean licking his lips. How was he suppose to ignore a mouth like that? How could he pretend he wasn’t paying attention to the way her ankles would cross and uncross in the air while she lay on her stomach? How could any human being stop themselves from taking in that perfect ass!?

This wasn’t fair. Dean forced himself back into his work, knowing he had a five minute window before his attention would return to (Y/N). He read the same information he’d read a dozen times--

“Wait,” Dean spoke. He took his files and sat on the bed beside (Y/N). He laid out his files above and beside (Y/N)’s and looked over hers as well. “Look, The workshops. About half way through two of mine matched up. And here, Liz and Peter’s match up too.”

Dean let (Y/N) see his connections. He was all too aware that he’d placed his hand on her back as he leaned into the paperwork. It was like his body couldn’t help but touch her when he was so close.

“You’re right!” (Y/N) declared and Dean beamed with pride. “Sam, come see this!” And that smile fell.

Dean noticed the way Sam bounded off his chair to sit on the other side of (Y/N)’s body. He laid out his own files and without seeming to notice he tucked some hair behind (Y/N)’s ear and rested his hand on her shoulder. Dean had to take a steadying breath.

SAM POV

He could see what Dean meant. At some point each vics scheduled workshops paired up.

“They’re coupling up,” (Y/N) stated.

“Except for one,” Sam pointed out one of the files (Y/N) had been reading.

“So what? It’s a bitter witch who’s got a vendetta against couples?” Dean asked.

“Or a God with a specific taste,” Sam added.

“Or none of the above,” (Y/N) mentioned as she pulled the unmatched file towards her.

She sighed, closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. Sam and Dean both leaned just a little more towards her.

Sam wished he could kiss the stress away that was giving (Y/N) a headache but he knew that would never fly past Dean. Damn this stupid pact.

“We should start looking for couples developing,” (Y/N) pulled her hand from her face and decided. “Only there’s going to be about 100 of them.”

“We need more, something specific about these couples,” Sam offered, his thumb gently caressing (Y/N)’s shoulder.

“Well we know they all went to workshops at the spa. Maybe they might know something,” Dean threw in. Sam noticed that Dean’s thumb did the same thing on her back. Sam looked up to meet Dean’s eyes. At first it was to share a look that neither of them liked seeing (Y/N) stressed, then they both simultaneously came to the same realization.

“Ya, sounds like a good idea--” (Y/N) began only for the brothers to interrupt her.

“I’ll go with you!” They spoke in unison. 

(Y/N) sat up and looked to both brothers, then it dawned on her. 

“Oh, right! We have to sign up for a session, don’t we...” She trailed off and Sam knew why. She’d just realized she’d have to pick one of the brothers for this. 

Half of Sam’s mind was debating how to best convince (Y/N) that she should take him, the other half just wanted to kiss that unsure look right off her perfect face. Instead, Sam watched (Y/N) look between the brothers like she was watching a tennis game.

“Umm...” She bite her lip, unable to choose, even though Sam was clearly the right answer.

She suddenly moved off the bed, rushing behind Sam and moving to stand at the foot of the bed. She was rubbing her thumb along her palm, it was her way of calming down and thinking clearly. She always did it when she was feeling frazzled or pressured. 

“Umm... lets... lets see what classes they have,” she stalled. Grabbing one of the vics workshop sign up sheets. Sam already knew what she was seeing as she read through. Couples course after couples course. A variety of couples messages and couples yoga classes, couples aromatherapy, couples meditation, couples reiki, couples sweat lodge, couples palmistry, the list was endless. 

“I guess...” She kept her eyes on the list. “I guess we could do...”

Dean leaned forwards and plucked the list from (Y/N)’s hands. Sam opened his mouth to protest until Dean spoke.

“How about you and Sam do couples yoga and you and I can do one of the couples massages. I could use a massage.” He looked up to (Y/N)’s approval and she breathed out in relief and nodded.

He might have been a little annoyed with his brother right now but that was a good compromise, and any decision that made (Y/N) more relaxed was one Sam could get behind.

“Alright, let’s get signed up,” Sam offered with a smile.

YOUR POV

“Alright, (Y/N) and I are signed up for the next couples message in 20 minutes but the next couples yoga isn’t until later tonight,” Dean broke the news after offering to set everything up with front desk.

“That’s fine,” You spoke but Sam seemed to stiffen beside you. You looked up to meet Sam’s eyes as you spoke. “We’re meeting up with Lacy after dinner, remember?” 

He seemed to relax at this and you turned your attention back to Dean. “So what kind of message are we getting?”

“No idea, I just asked for the next available one,” Dean admitted and you had to chuckle. It didn’t matter really, you had a job to do in there and honestly you were just excited you’d be getting a massage at all.

“Let’s get going then. We might have time to ask about the vics before hand,” You announced.

Rather than answer, Dean offered his arm for you to take. There it was again. The odd behavior. What was up with your two boys. Sam responded with his own odd action of grabbing your hand. You turned around to him and he met your eyes.

“Be careful,” he spoke and finally released your hand. What?

You turned to Dean with his arm still held out and looped your arm with his. And there that was again. The boys weren’t the only oddities, you had a strange reaction to them too. Every time one of them so much as touched you your body seemed to hum with electricity. It worried you. Were you the next target for kidnapping?

Dean walked the two of you towards the spa and signed you both in. Dean was forced to release you when you were each shown to separate change rooms. Inside the women’s change room were lockers for personal effects. Each unused locker had a towel, a fluffy white bathrobe and a set of slippers. You picked a locker and began to undress. You had to look around at the other women entering the locker room to be sure but it seemed people were handing everything up. Underwear included. You just couldn’t do the same. You were still hunting after all, so your underwear remained but everything else including your bra, that was locked up in favour of that fluffy bathrobe and slippers.

You finally emerged in the main spa area. It was gorgeous. You walked into a round room with soft lighting. Lining the walls was plush seating broken up by various doorways. In the very centre was a pool of water. Water fell into it from the ceiling in a steady trickle. Later lilies floated across the surface though you were sure they had to be fake. Relaxing music played on exotic instruments bounced off the mosaic tiles of the floor and the murals of splashing waves on the walls. 

You already felt the effects of the spa. There were a few people in the room, sitting and waiting for their workshops to begin. You copied them and took a seat against the wall. You only closed your eyes for a moment but you opened them seconds later when you felt a hand tuck some hair behind your ear. You opened your eyes to see Dean smiling down at you. He took a seat beside you and for a moment you just enjoyed the silence together. Hunters never got to relax like this.

Then you noticed that Dean was wearing a bathrobe like yours and you had to laugh. It bounced off the walls and water and you had to cover your own mouth to stop it. But it was so hard to stop. He was even wearing the slippers which had you giggling out loud again.

Dean just rolled his eyes at you, “Ya, ya. Laugh it up.” He smiled though, knowing your laughter was all in good fun.

“I’m never going to forget you in this.”

“Ya, me neither.” He spoke to himself and looked around the room as a woman in a spa uniform entered. She appeared to count the number of couples quickly before drawing their attention.

“Welcome to our Couples Massage Workshop: Communication. If you’d like to follow me we can head to the classroom.”

Classroom? You looked over at Dean with wide eyes that said: ‘What the hell did you sign us up for?’

“We don’t have much of a choice now,” Dean whispered to you and stood, following the four other couples out of the main area. 

Your jaw dropped but he was right, you were shit out of luck now. You moved down a hallway to another room, this one was just as relaxing with the same soft lighting. Set up on the floor were five sets of red pillows over a red mat that looked... quite comfortable. Couples were already picking their places and sitting on the pillows face to face. You and Dean copied them, choosing a set in the far corner. The woman from earlier still stood at the door and drew everyones attention again.

“Your instructors will be here in a moment,” she the woman left. 

You looked at Dean, “So... this isn’t what I expected.” 

“Come on, it’s not that bad. We’re still going to get massages. Plus, when we’re done this we can have massages whenever we want,” Dean teased and you had to laugh. Not because he was right, which he was, but because of the butterflies that fluttered in your stomach at the thought that Dean wanted to do this again back home.

You opened your mouth to speak but your instructors arrived just then. A blonde woman and a man with obvious greek features. 

“Welcome to Couples Massage Workshop: Communication,” she woman spoke.

“I am Antoine and this is my partner Ivy,” the man continued.

“In today’s class we’re going to work on opening communication between partners. We understand that you’ve all just met this weekend so this is very exciting for you. Communication is a great way to really start off on the right foot,” Ivy explained.

You looked at Dean with a raised eyebrow and he rolled his eyes in response. This was getting cheesy again.

“So today we want you all to be honest. Be honest about your physical needs so that your partner can better learn how to help those needs.” Antoine was very dramatic for a masseuse, his hand gestures wild and passionate.

“Now, we’re going to jump right into this. Let’s start with deep breathing. Time your breathing with your partner as best you can. Look into their eyes as you breath in and out.”

You weren’t sure you were going to make it through this class. It seemed ridiculous and the smirk on Dean’s face said he felt the same. You were seventy percent sure you were going to get kicked out of this class for not taking it seriously. You couldn’t let that happen though or else you’d never be able to question the instructors later.

You felt a little weird but you did as Ivy instructed. You met Dean’s emerald green eyes and took your first deep breath, releasing when he did. By the third breath you felt it. Something in you warmed. You actually relaxed, stepping out of your own mind as you breathed with Dean. 

“Next I want you to reach out and take your partners hands. Hold them, get use to the feeling of their body with yours,” Antoine directed.

Dean opened his hands, palm up and you placed your hands in his. In the quiet of the classroom you couldn’t ignore the hum that already started from toughing Dean.

“Remember to breath and connect with your partner,” Ivy reminded.

You wanted to laugh, you kept smirking like you were about to but you never did. Mostly because of that damn humming against your skin. 

“Communication is key in a massage and a relationship. Lets start by getting into the right frame of mind. Compliment each other.”

Okay, now Antoine was crazy.

“You have... nice... hands,” You tried and laughed at the end. 

“Right back atcha,” Dean winked and you both laughed. Ivy turned and gave you a death glare from across the room. Antoine was the one to approach the two of you.

“Remember,” he placed a soft hand on each of your shoulders like you were two wayward children he was gently correcting, “This is about you and your partner, not about the instructions. Do what feels natural. Just let your partner know something you appreciate about them.”

You wanted to laugh but Antoine wasn’t removing his hands or leaving you two alone until you finished the task. You tried to think about something to say to get rid of Antoine when Dean spoke first.

“I think you’re brave.”

You looked up at Dean, surprised by the genuine tone of his voice and look in his eyes. He really meant that and it actually meant a lot to you. 

“You’re really smart.” You spoke, your voice also genuine. Sam might have gone to college but Dean was intelligent too. He was clever and could figure out just about any problem he faced. 

Dean smiled at your comment and you were so lost in his eyes that you didn’t notice when Antoine pulled away.

“Now is the time to be honest. Tell your partner where you’re feeling pressure or stress.” Ivy’s voice floated to you.

“You go first,” Dean offered and you had to think. Something simple. Something easy for friends to do.

“My... my hands, I guess.” They did usually ache from researching for cases and holding the cold metal of a gun.

“Now remember to use long and slow strokes,” Antoine instructed.

Dean released one of your hands in favour of holding one. He flipped your hand so it was face down and using his thumbs began to massage the top. It actually felt nice, mostly because the humming of your skin intensified where he rubbed. You tried to ignore it and keep this friendly but it was hard. Thank goodness Dean’s perfect green eyes were no longer capturing yours.

Antoine came over to check on you guys again. “It’s easier if you use the oil.” Were Dean watching your face, he would have seen all the blood in your face go right for your cheeks. 

Dean reached for something beside his pillow and you swallowed as he pulled out a bottle of massage oil. Antoine nodded and waited for Dean to pump some into his hand before he left. 

Hands slick now Dean tentatively went back to your hand. It was a little harder to pretend that this was still friendly but you managed with a few deep breaths.

The two of you were quiet, both staring down at Dean’s work rather than each other. That was, until Ivy swung by and lifted both your chins. 

Meeting eyes cause the hum to intensify again. You had to focus on controlling your breathing while he turned your hand over and began rubbing the inside of your palm. Oh that was it. Game over.

The inside of your palm was oddly enough a source of comfort. You sometimes caught yourself rubbing it on your own, but having someone else do it? With proper oils? While starring into your eyes? Oh it was heaven!

You closed your eyes without meaning to and let out a soft hum. Perhaps it was your attempt to match the hum of your skin. You heard Antoine swing by again. He gave Dean some quick instruction and moved away and Dean’s hands slowed on yours and moved from your palm to your whole hand and even your wrist and forearm. You were feeling intensely relaxed as Dean switched to your other hand. You could have stayed like that forever until Ivy spoke some time later.

“Alright, time to switch between partners.” 

You opened your eyes, looking to Dean for him to decide where he wanted a massage. He looked at you for a moment before looking back at this still moving hands.

“It’s fine. I can keep going,” He spoke quietly.

“Come on, what’s tense?” You lightly asked. 

Dean continued on your hand as he answered. “I don’t know. I guess...” He stopped.

“You guess what?” You gently prodded.

“My neck,” He almost seemed shy about it, like he didn’t want to tell you about a weakness he had. You smiled and pulled your hand from his.

DEAN POV

He was perfectly content to massage (Y/N)’s hands all night. Watching her completely relax because of his hands, it was incredible. 

But (Y/N) was moving, standing and walking around to sit behind him. She must have reached for the bottle while she was back there because her fingers were warm and slick with oil when they met Dean’s neck.

Her movements were slow, her thumbs putting just the right amount of pressure into his neck, beginning at the base and slowly pressing up to the top. It felt like heaven. Dean’s head began to slump forward as he relaxed. Antoine was back one more time.

“Here, Why don’t you take your arms out of your rope so your partner can explore your shoulders and back?” Antoine wasn’t pushy, in fact he was downright convincing. But Dean still wasn’t sure. He was about to turn Antoine down until he felt (Y/N)’s fingers gently grab onto the collar of his robe. He held his breath as she slowly eased the fabric off of his shoulders and down his arms. Dean pulled his hands out but still refused to breathe.

Her fingers met the base of his neck again, but this time her fingers glided across Dean’s shoulders. Her pressure was slow and given across long, even strokes. He could hear Antoine praise her pace before he all but disappeared along with the world.

Truth be told Dean carried a lot of his stress in his shoulders and he didn’t think he’d ever had a decent massage in his life to release it. 

Now, the world melted into nothing and (Y/N) was the only thing that existed. Her hands were attentive and never rushed for a moment of Dean’s tense muscles. He finally felt his breathing slip into a deep pattern. Her hands slowly began to work lower, working Dean’s back. Oh it felt good.

“Remember, this is about communication which is not just in words. Let your touch tell your partner how much you appreciate them in this moment,” Ivy instructed.

Dean wasn’t sure how that was going to come about until it happened.

(Y/N) began sliding her hands from Dean’s shoulders down his arms. Each pass she pressed further down before coming back up. Finally, She pressed down, following the length of Dean’s arms until she reached his hands where they were perched on his knees. Her fingers slid along his hand and then in between his fingers. She pressed her chest to his back to reach, her head beside Dean’s. With their fingers laced and her body weighing gently over his Dean took his deepest breath yet.

This wasn’t just fixing someone’s aching muscles, this was just being close. Dean’s heart raced. He tried to fight himself from turning his face towards hers but he couldn’t. She did the same. Their lips were so close, one small twitch and they’d be touching. 

Dean briefly thought about the pact he still had with Sam, but fuck the pact. Everything else in Dean’s mind and body told him to go for it.

“Ivy! Antoine!” A panicked voice called from the door.

A woman in a resort uniform stood there, white with shock. The instructors immediately moved to speak with her. It was definitely some sort of emergency.

(Y/N) pulled back, her hands slowly moving back up to Dean’s shoulders while she listened to the conversation at the door. Dean took a steadying breath before he could do the same.

“--just gone! I don’t know what happened! The police are coming I just...”

“It’s okay, Lauren. Tell Debra we’ll be out in a minute.” Ivy spoke comfortingly to Lauren who nodded and left.

“Alright partners, it’s time to bring this session to a close. I encourage you to take the bottle of oil with you and continue this on your own time. If you have any questions feel free to come find up,” Antoine directed.

“Until next time, Go in peace and love.” Ivy placed her hands together and gave a little bow. Some people bowed back. Dean and (Y/N) were not one of them. They were on high alert again, hunter mode.

They bolted up, ready to catch Antoine and Ivy with their own questions but they moved too fast and were out of the room in a flash.

“Well, at least we know they’re headed for Debra,” (Y/N) stated as they watched them head down the hallway.

“Let’s get back to Sam,” Dean was ready to walk down the hall but (Y/N) stopped him.

“Wait,” she hustled back into the room and grabbed the bottle of oil from their spot. Dean stated at her with wide eyes.

“Just in case,” (Y/N) gave as an excuse and moved past Dean towards the change rooms. Dean had to clear his throat and adjust the robe wrapped around his waist before he could follow.

YOUR POV

You knew something had gone wrong. There was an emergency. More people had vanished under your watch. You should have been thinking about that as you washed your hands. Instead you were preoccupied with something else. Dean’s back.

You were never, ever going to forget the feeling of Dean’s incredible back beneath your hands. The way his muscles rippled and relaxed under your touch, the image of that muscular back slick with oil. You were so close to bitting his shoulder where a thousand freckles were spread out. You didn’t even care if anyone noticed. Your breathing had been hitched the whole time. And then that moment at the end where your whole being was screaming to kiss him. 

You wished you’d had time for a cold shower. 

But you didn’t and so you dried your hands and dressed as fast as you could. When you exited the changing rooms there was a crowd at the entrance to the spa. Police stood by, taking statements while bystanders created a wall beyond them, trying to get a good look. You found Sam waiting by the spa entrance and made a b-line for him. 

“What’s going on--” But you didn’t get a chance to finish. Sam threw his arms around you and hugged you tightly.

“Two more people went missing from the spa. I was so worried it was you and Dean,” Sam explained. He didn’t let go of you until someone cleared his throat behind you.

“Well, lucky you then, we’re fine.” Dean spoke and waited for you two to part.

Once you did he seemed to lighten just a bit, “Good as new actually. (Y/N)’s got some talented hands.”

You smiled, “Only cause you fixed them first.” You joked back.

“Alright, we’ve got a case to work on, remember?” Sam sounded impatient.

“Right, let’s find out what happened,” You agreed before slipping back into the spa, claiming you’d forgotten something in your locker.