The Hunter and the Hunted

by art of mayhem and Dr. Ruthless

Rated: Parts range from PG to NC17 for adult situations and graphic sex.

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Alex Krycek

Spoilers: none

Warning: Slash, M/M affection

Wordcount: 100,365

Disclaimer: Dean and his family belong to Eric Kripke and Supernatural, and Alex belongs to Chris Carter and the X-Files. We own nothing, but we are doing this for love and not money.

Author's Notes: Dean spent four years traveling with John, his father, and later on his own missions, while Sam, his brother, was at Stanford. We've bent time a little, and we are aware of that, but this is fiction. We've decided that Dean met up with Alex Krycek after the events of Piper Maru and Apocrypha so for everyone that ever wondered how Alex got out of the missile silo, we have the scoop.

Illustrations: by Carla Jane and Griva, banner by art_of_mayhem (hover mouse over for credits)

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Part 1: The October Song

I'll sing you my October song, There is no song before it
The words and tune are not my own, my joy and sorrow bore it
Beside the sea there's a brambly briar in the still of evening
Birds fly out from beside the sun, and with them I'll be leaving
"October Song," by the Incredible String Band.

Dean Winchester never liked to fly – he had more than just a slight fear of air travel, so instead, he spent his time driving around the country in the 67 Impala his father had given him. It was a funny thought, given Dean's profession, which was that of hunter. He wasn't just your average hunter either, not the kind that hunted animals. Dean hunted the paranormal. Demons, ghosts, spirits - anything that troubled people, and he saved their lives. It was something he'd grown up with – something that his father had taught both his boys, believing that, if he made soldiers out of them, their knowledge and skills would protect them.

At the tender age of four, when Dean was little, his brother a mere six months old, their house had burned down. Dean had carried his little brother out on his father's orders. As the house burned, Dean, his father and little Sammy had watched. Dean later learned that his father believed something supernatural had started that fire, and that it hadn't been the electrical blaze that the authorities had decided to call it.

Much later his father had told Dean that he'd seen their mother pinned to the ceiling, before it had burst into flames. Whatever had done this, it had become the family mission to hunt it down and destroy it.

Dean's father, John, had heard a rumor of strange things happening around a certain field close to Fargo, North Dakota, the part of the country where Dean was now traveling. Events had been going on for a while, and people were reporting strange lights, things happening that could not be explained, even peculiar noises coming from the woods. Finally, Dean had been sent to check it out.

Dean found himself driving down a dirt road, which led to the field he was to investigate. It was just past sunset, and his headlights cut through the light fog lifting off the grass. The tree line could barely be seen in the darkness, but something else was catching his attention. A Missile silo jutted up into the night sky like a rotten tooth against the scudding clouds.

The Impala rolled to a stop, the driver peering out of the window at his surroundings. "Great, dad," Dean mumbled, pushing the door open. It creaked with age as he closed it, looking around at the apparently disused building. Walking back to the trunk, he opened it up, and then pulled open the hidden compartment, which was loaded down with all he needed to fight whatever he encountered, guns, knives, holy water, rock salt, gas, and more. He selected a flashlight; he already had a gun at his back, just in case, but he reached in to grab some spare ammo for it.

Walking around, he started to explore what he thought of as the target area, EMF at the ready. After wandering through the complex for nearly an hour, he was beginning to think this trip might be a bust. He hadn't seen or heard anything except... well, now that he thought of it, that was a little strange, there were no birds flying about, and not even the crickets were making a noise. Hell, there weren't even bugs flying at him to bite or get at his light.

After some consideration, Dean decided to check out inside the silo, if at all possible, so he made his way to the entrance. It appeared to be unlocked, so, pulling the door open, he entered. Once inside, he gazed down the long hall, frowning, then shone his flashlight around, walking down the length of the corridor as he looked about.

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

Alex Krycek had given up. Hungry and thirsty to such a degree that his tongue had swollen in his mouth, he sat slumped, his back to the door against which he'd pounded so fruitlessly for hours.

It seemed as if this was going to be the one time when he wouldn't get away. The creature that had taken him over had departed from his body, leaving only a greasy scum on his skin and a vile taste in his mouth - as if he'd drunk industrial waste.

If he had any moisture left in him, he would have cried, but as it was he merely sat, staring blindly into the stygian darkness, wondering how long it would take for him to die.

He had no idea how long he'd been there. Time had stopped for him at that airport bathroom in Hong Kong, and he had somehow awakened here in this hellhole, back in the clutches of the Smoker. He'd thought he could somehow parley his way out of the place, but Spender wasn't having any of it. He'd told the soldiers to leave him, and then abandoned him to his fate.

As the door had clanged shut, he'd been crouched over the ground, vomiting out the oily substance that had been riding him for the past few days, and by the time he'd realized that he wasn't in Hong Kong any more, the door had been shut on him, locking him into a darkness that was doubly terrifying because he didn't know how he'd got there, only that he was there now, and it seemed as if he would never get out again.

He thought he might have dozed for a while, but he came suddenly awake as he heard something moving on the other side of the door. "God!" He stumbled to his feet and peered through the glass in the door, trying to discern whether there actually was someone out there, maybe Mulder returning to poke around.

He was giving up again, when he saw the light. It was a flashlight, he was almost certain, and that meant Mulder; of course it did. Even Mulder wouldn't condemn him to die alone in the dark, although if it did turn out to be his nemesis he'd have to work out a way of escaping the feeb's clutches once out of here.

"Help! Help!" His voice was cracked and barely audible, so Alex did the only thing he could. He banged on the heavy iron door, kicked at it with one steel toecapped boot, until the hollow booming he made could not possibly be missed.

"Oh, God, please!" He didn't believe in God, but he hoped like crazy that God would believe in him, just this once.

"Help, goddammit!" he screamed.

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

There was nothing but darkness, and the hollow echo of his boots striking the flooring. His flashlight reflected off painted signs and numbers on the wall. Dean shone the light up, not able to figure out where those strange sounds would have come from - those sounds and lights that had been reported in the press. Perhaps this was really nothing -just stupid people trying to get attention. He and his dad had run into that before.

Suddenly there was an echoing, a booming followed by a faint sound that might have been a voice. Then there was banging - loud banging. Dean turned toward the source, his flashlight pointing out the direction. He started walking toward where he thought it was coming from, and as he got closer it became unmistakably a voice. Someone was inside, apparently locked behind the huge iron door at the end of the corridor. Running up to the window, he shone his light in through the glass.

"Hey! Hey, you okay in there? Hold on." He reached for the latch but then paused wondering if he should. Was there a reason someone had put this man in here?

His head jerked up when the man spoke again, although he couldn't hear what the other was saying, because of the thickness of the metal door. "Okay, hold on." He moved the latch, pulling the pin that held it in place, then jerked the handle to release it and pulled open the door, catching the man as he nearly fell out.

"Easy!"

He wrapped an arm around the newly freed prisoner, supporting him as he started to help him out. Dean would worry about how he got in there later. He was sure there was going to be a story.

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For a moment, Alex couldn't quite believe he was out. He clung to his rescuer. He was unable to see the man properly in the light from the flashlight, but one thing he knew, he was out! He was free, and there was no way anyone would get him back into that chamber again without brute force, and a lot more brute force than was usual.

"Jesus!" he whispered. "Get me out of here! Please get me out of here?" His abused vocal chords were way beyond their usual ability to vibrate now, and his voice was a ragged travesty of its usual sensual husk, but his wild eyed look, and the panic he was so visibly experiencing would have to do for now. Either the man who'd opened the door would recognize his fear, or he wouldn't. If he didn't, then he'd cut and run, and that was all there was to it.

It seemed that the other was on his wavelength, because he turned and began to guide Alex back towards the doorway he had thought never to see again. He coughed, almost choking as he tried to speak, but managed a brief 'thank you' as his rescuer led him to freedom.

The night was damp and chilly, and Alex breathed in the sour air with desperate greed, clinging still to the slick leather that his savior was wearing. "Can we get out of here?" he asked, still coughing a little.

Dean had to support most of the man's weight. He was weak, stumbling, and who knew how long he had been in there. By the smell it had been a while, that was for sure. And he had this strange greasy film covering him, like oil. Dean had to wonder where that had come from. He turned a corner; the metal door he'd entered by was still wide open. Bugs fluttered around the entrance although they hadn't been there earlier, and the cool air rushed in to wash over them as Dean was taking the ex-prisoner out.

He led the man over to the car, opening the passenger door to set him in, then went around to the back, opening the trunk to get him some water. "Here, drink it slowly." He held it up to the man's lips. "What the hell were you doing in there?"

Crouching down before him, he put his hand upon the man's leg as he looked up into another set of green eyes set in a face that looked like it'd been scared shitless for far too long.

"I... I don't know." Alex gazed at his rescuer, eyes still wide and shocky, although his initial panic attack was subsiding now that he was outside and able to see the sky above his head, feel the icy bite of the wind that was beginning to blow flakes of snow around the desolate landscape.

"I was in Hong Kong, and Mulder..." He stopped short. This man wouldn't know Mulder, wouldn't have a clue what he was talking about, and he didn't want to give away any sensitive information until he found out for himself what had happened. He'd already patted his pockets down and knew that he no longer had the DAT tape on him - worse, he couldn't find that last little packet of the amphetamines he knew had been in his jacket, and he thought that any moment now he might come apart. This man with his bland, pretty face, and his big old battleship of a car would help him, if he pushed the right buttons, he knew. It ought to be easy. He took a deep breath and began again.

"The last thing I remember," he murmured, his voice growing stronger as he sipped the water. "Was being in the airport at Hong Kong. There was a woman in the bathroom, and she choked me." He sighed. "I know that sounds feeble but..."

The sudden sound of a vehicle in the distance made him jump and twitch, and he hugged himself. "Can we get out of here? It's not that I'm not grateful or anything, but I don't suddenly want to find myself back in that place."

Dean frowned; Hong Kong was a hell of a long way from here, and the muttered name, Mulder, was not one he knew, although of course he would look it up later and check with his father to see if he'd heard of him. But his face didn't show too much other than a frown as he kept a close eye on the man's intake of water.

"Missing something?" Dean asked, pushing up from his crouch and fishing around for his keys. The things this man was telling him were triggering off warning signals. It sounded like a possible possession of the kind that would transfer from person to person. It seemed obvious to Dean that a demon had gone from the woman to this man, but where was it now, and why did it leave this man here in this godforsaken hole?

Dean got the man the rest of the way into the car and closed the door. Climbing in on the other side, he started up the engine and pulled the car away from the silo, barreling off to the road and down it, heading for Fargo, where he already had a room in a dilapidated motel.

"Name is Dean." He didn't give his last name. Ordinarily he would have given a fake ID, but, if this man had been possessed, it might be best to gain his trust rather than lying about something as simple as his name. He glanced at the other, frowning at the residue upon his skin and clothes. He hadn't ever seen a possession that left behind that kind of stuff. It looked almost like oil. "I'm staying in a motel. It's not far; there it is in fact," he said, a few moments later. "Look, we'll get you cleaned up. Something to eat and then..." He pulled the car up to his room and shut the engine off. "Then you can tell me what really happened."

"Arntzen," lied Alex, glibly. "Valery Arntzen. Call me Val." He'd breathed a sigh of relief as the Impala picked up speed and leant his head back against the upholstery, closing his eyes for a brief moment.

God, but he was tired, and his skin crawled with the slime that covered it. The substance seemed to burn his skin, and he looked at Dean with genuine gratitude when the other man suggested food and getting clean. His clothes were soaked in the oily residue, but at least he would be able to get the stuff off his body, and who knew, perhaps he'd be able to bum some clothing from Dean - they were after all very similar in size.

As Dean stopped the car, Alex turned to Dean. "Man, don't think I'm not grateful - you'll never know just how grateful I am, but I've told you everything. It was like one minute I was in that bathroom, and the next minute I was screaming my lungs out, trying to get someone to hear me in that hell-hole."

Dean had done a double take to the name. Valery was a strange name – even stranger than the aliases he usually picked for himself. "Okay, Val is easier," he nodded. He looked the man over then thought he better not press him just then. The man was traumatized. He would be hungry too, Dean was sure. Getting out, he went around to help the man out, closing the door and supporting him to the room. Once inside, he guided him to the bed.

Heading into the bathroom, Dean came back with a towel, then stood before him. "Why don't you tell me everything you remember? Any little detail, no matter how strange it might seem, because there has to be a reason for this," He swiped a finger over the oil on Alex's neck, showing him what he'd collected.

The stuff on Dean's finger made Alex gag helplessly. He lifted his eyes to Dean's, doing his best to look as harmless and scared as he could. "Could I... do you think I could get a shower?"

He needed to get the shit off him - it felt like every pore was clogged with the black, disgusting residue, and he thought that he might start to scream and tear at his skin, if he couldn't wash it away very soon.

Dean nodded as he wiped his finger on his jeans, "Shower, sure."

At Dean's nod of assent, Alex rose to his feet and started to take off his clothes, black jeans and leather jacket, T-shirt and boots, finally kicking the things into the corner of the room as if to say he was never going to touch them again. Standing there, naked but for his boxers, he gazed helplessly at Dean.

"Like I said, Hong Kong airport. The woman had black eyes, which was peculiar, but other than that I don't know. She was very strong - lifted me off the ground with one arm, and I'm no lightweight."

He stepped towards the bathroom as he spoke, and turned back as he reached the door. "This shit on me is burning my skin. Got to get rid of it."

Dean held out the towel while the man undressed, unable to help his eyes wondering over that body. He took a moment to glance sideways at the clothing pile in the corner before sliding his eyes back to where Alex stood. What he hadn't expected was the helpless gaze that greeted him. He had almost winced, because it was very nearly the same look Sam always gave him, and he always, always fell for it.

"Go knock yourself out," Dean tossed him the towel, now distracted over the fact of black eyes and strength. He walked over to the clothing and lifted it up, looking the items over, taking a sample of the material to place it into a little glass container. He would send it off for analysis to one of the connections he and his father knew.

He moved over to the table while the man was taking a shower. "Christo," he murmured, recalling what his dad had said about possessions. It was obvious to Dean that the man had been possessed. Some people didn't remember, if they were rescued, and others did; it really all depended on the person. The black eyes, and the strength confirmed a possession, and the demon could be any of the ones he had listed in his journal. Damn, but he wished John Winchester were here, so he could check his dad's journal out. Hell, that man knew everything there was to know about possession, and he probably wouldn't even need the journal to know what had bitten his new companion; he'd just look at Valery and be able to tell, although that oily residue was a really unusual phenomenon.

The oily substance baffled Dean; he was unsure what kind of demon might leave such a thing behind. He looked back to the bathroom door, frowning deeply before grabbing the phone and ordering some take-out for delivery.

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

Part 2: When Hunger Calls

The autumn leaves that jewel the ground, they know the art of dying
And leave with joy their glad, gold hearts in scarlet shadows lying
When hunger calls my footsteps home the evening follows after
I swim the seas within my mind, while pine trees laugh green laughter
"October Song," by the Incredible String Band.

In the shower, Alex had turned the water up as hot as he could bear it and was scrubbing himself furiously in an attempt to get the oil off his skin. Normally a shower like this would have been seen as a luxury to savor, but for Alex today it was merely a way of losing the foul stuff and re-claiming himself, putting the silo behind him.

He shampooed his hair and then reluctantly climbed out of the shower once more, noting that his skin was scarlet where he'd scrubbed, but feeling much better even so. He risked using Dean's toothbrush, not wanting to ask in case he was told that he couldn't, and then breathed a sigh of relief as he finally stopped tasting the filthy, oily substance that had apparently pervaded his every pore.

At last he felt human again. Wrapping a towel around his hips, he ran his fingers through his wet hair and turned to push the door open and emerge, clean once more.

"God, that felt good," he said. "Thanks, man. You know I appreciate it?"

Dean looked up from writing in his journal just as the bathroom door opened. Green eyes blinked slowly at the wet man in the towel who stood there. Shit! Dean knew he shouldn't be thinking this, but that body was hot, hot, hot!

That was it, Dean knew he needed to find a bar soon and get laid.

He shifted in his chair, "I can tell." He got up, walking across and looking the guy over, "Good thing the wire brush wasn't in there; you might have used it." He moved past him, digging in his bag for a pair of jeans and a shirt and tossing them to Alex, "See if you can fit into those. If not, I'll go out and see if I can find you something."

He made his way to the safe area across the room, sitting back down and making more notes. "While you were in there trying to scrub to the bone, you think of anything else you might have remembered?" He tipped his head towards the man. "I got food coming."

"I dunno." Alex could see the way that the man was looking at him, and for a moment, his eyes gleamed at the thought that there might be a little recreation later on that evening. He licked his lips, smiled his thanks and dropped his towel as he took a seat to pull on Dean's jeans. Pulling them up took him a couple of seconds, and he smiled as he fastened them, tucking his genitals in with a wink to Dean. "Maybe there was something else. When I came to, it was like there was stuff pouring from my eyes and nose, coming out of my mouth too. I couldn't see it, because it was black as the hubs of hell, but it felt greasy and tasted disgusting."

He reached for the T-shirt and pulled it on over his head, stretching to tug it over his chest. "Food would be wonderful. I could probably eat grass, I'm so hungry. I don't know how I'm ever going to repay you." As he spoke the words, he let his gaze travel down over Dean's body, allowing his eyes free rein. Dean was very attractive, with a mouth even more exotic than Mulder's, and Alex suddenly felt himself quicken inside the borrowed jeans at the thought of tasting it.

Dean had to fight to keep from watching the man dress, but he shot a glance here and there. At one point, Dean wasn't sure if this man might have winked at him. Dean was used to women flirting with him, but men? That was new in Dean's book. However, as the handsome, green-eyed man started talking, Dean listened more intently. "Eww," Dean made a face, then shivered as he turned back to add that to his notes. This was definitely something new – something neither he nor his dad had run across. He might have to make another call or two.

"No grass, but there might be cat or dog; it's Chinese food." Dean leaned back then on an afterthought pushed up to go to the little fridge. He pulled it open and retrieved two beers, offering one to his companion, "Here, this might help with that taste in your mouth." Popping the top of his own, he leaned back against the cheap dresser. "You don't have to repay me. Just tell me where you want to go, and I'll take you back." He took a swig of his beer. "I'm sure you have someone who is missing you."

Alex gave Dean a smile from which innocence shone. "I think not," he said, softly. "I'm what you might call a lone wolf. My family is long gone, and the only person who might hope to meet up with me hates my guts."

"Bummer," Dean commented, taking another drink while the green eyed man was speaking. He concentrated on trying to read the guy. His dad had always been better at that than him. John Winchester could figure people out with just a glance, because people were another one of those pattern things. The interpretation of patterns was John's real skill.

All unaware of the thoughts running through his rescuer's brain, Alex was opening the beer that Dean had handed him. He raised it to his lips, eyes fastened on Dean as he did so. "I was investigating a theft. Guess you could call me a private eye," he announced, thinking that might cover any possible slip ups he might make. "Don't really have anyone that looks out for me." He sighed, face a picture of regret. "You know how it is, Dean, I can tell. You're in the same business as I am - all I have to do is look at your face to know that."

"Theft. Out there." Dean nodded as he took another drink. He had to chuckle as he pushed away from the dresser. "You need a partner, buddy." He smirked at the look on the other man's face, because his words were ironic. The two people he'd always looked out for were gone. They'd both left him. Sam, his younger brother, had left him to go to college, fed up with the life of hunting and with home life in general. His father had sent him away to work his own missions, and Dean was getting the sense that it was a gradual push away, because Sam wasn't there any more. The only things his father had given him were his beloved car and a cell phone. So in a way, Dean kind of knew how things were.

"Yeah, a theft," agreed Alex without elucidating further. "Guess I lost the trail, what with one thing and another."

Dean drew a breath; he didn't believe a word this man was saying. They were miles from nowhere, and who the hell would steal anything then bring it out here? So alarms were going off for Dean, and it seemed that he was his father's son after all.

Setting his bottle to his lips and tipping the beer back, Alex drank, allowing his powerful throat muscles to work their charm. Placing the half-empty bottle down once more, he smiled at Dean again, guileless and innocent as you please. "I feel so full of life after thinking I was dead. Do you suppose that it's a kind of reaction to nearly dying that makes me want to have sex after being in danger of my life?"

As the thoughts flickered through Dean's head, his own bottle was pressed to his lips, his eyes upon the other man's, and how it tipped, how those throat muscles were moving. He gave a quick lick to his lips then tipped the bottle again, nearly spitting his beer out at Alex's next words. "You coming on to me?" He gave Alex that look of his before turning and setting his beer down on the small table near his papers. "Dinner will be here soon. After we eat, if you still feel like plowing some fields, maybe we can find a local bar for some prospects."

Alex set his empty bottle down on the table, placing it precisely on the patterned Formica. "I wouldn't call it 'coming on to you' exactly," he added, thoughtfully. "Think of it more as a polite inquiry." He moved towards Dean, who was sitting in one of the chairs beside the table and moving to stand between his knees, a guileless smile on his face. "Because I most definitely need a partner, and I like green eyes. You know where you stand with green eyes."

He reached down to tip Dean's chin up so that he could examine the handsome face, lips pursed as he took inventory. "See, I'm very picky, but when I meet someone that meets my standards, I'm also very good… very good indeed. Lucky you."

Dean had tipped his head just a bit, lounging in the chair as Alex moved toward him. The other man was now standing between his knees, and he couldn't help but feel the heat in his body building, because that shirt was much too tight on his guest. Looking up, he smirked. "Must be because you have green eyes too, I take it."

The fingers touching his chin burned. And as Alex took inventory, so did Dean. "Lucky me," he repeated, pursing his lips. Just then the door was rattled by a knock. Dean reached for his wallet, pulled out some money then handed it to Alex, "Dinner. Wine and dine, then we'll see, if we aren't both too fat and tired to talk about plumbing."

Nodding, somehow pleased at what he saw, Alex took the money and turned to the door. A short conversation later, he returned bearing the bags of food. "Oh, man!" he murmured, inhaling the scent that was coming from the bags. "I think I've died and gone to heaven."

He set everything on the table and turned to look in the cupboards for plates. "I can't tell you the last time I ate this well. You know the clichè about the impoverished private eye? Well, I'm here to tell you that it's all true."

Passing the dishes over to Dean, Alex began to take the order out of the paper bags. "Okay, you put it out. You bought it."

While the man was gone, Dean had taken the opportunity to clean up the mess on the table, putting all the papers and his journal away. Let this man think he was some private-dick, there was no need for him to know Dean was actually a hunter.

Table cleared, Dean stood up to look in the bag. They seemed to have gotten everything. Rice was present as was the pork fried rice which would do for later or leftovers since Dean figured he might be here a few days. He set out the chicken, then the steak and veggies and rice.

"There you go, dig in!" Dean took a piece of steak and started nibbling on it as he stepped back. "So... What was stolen? And this woman - the one with the black eyes, did she say anything at all to you?" He glanced over at the door, frowning, then pushed up while Alex was serving himself and went to his bag, pulling out a large can of salt. Moving to the door, he started to pour a ring. If this man was possessed, (and who was to say he wasn't now?) Dean wanted to be protected. Once the door threshold was protected, he turned his attention to the windows, salting them next.

"The woman with the black eyes?" Alex wasn't concentrating. His eyes slid to the food, but he did shake his head. "No. For a start, I didn't really know she was there until she had hold of me. Once she had me by the throat, I don't remember anything else."

Alex was drooling. The smell of the food was almost intoxicating in his famished state. He loaded his plate with rice, chicken and vegetables and began to eat, closing his eyes in bliss as he allowed the taste to permeate his senses.

"Oh, jeez, Dean, you have no idea..." Alex had arched his neck, head back as he sampled a little of the ginger chicken. "You've saved my life a couple of times over." He suddenly noticed what Dean was doing and frowned, trying to decide whether or not his new companion had suddenly lost his mind. "Uh... listen, guy. It's your room, and live and let live, but is there some reason I don't know about that makes you want to pour white stuff on the rug?"

Dean watched as Val/Alex took the food onto his plate. Lots of it. The man must have been starving, which told Dean he must have been in there a while. He found it a little hard to believe that this man didn't remember traveling in his own meat suit. With most possessions, the person was along for the ride, aware of what was going on, there were very few that weren't.

Returning the salt can to his bag, Dean smirked. "I heard a little spilt salt is good luck. Maybe this much will get me really lucky." He came back to the table, fixing his own plate and giving no further explanation. He sat down and looked at the guy who was eating ravenously. "So what kind of theft were you investigating that took you to Hong Kong? And has this happened to you before?"

"Happened to me? Hell, no." Alex shot Dean a veiled glance under his lashes. It seemed as if the man was trying to pump him about the DAT tape, and he suddenly felt a little nervous. Perhaps Dean was a clever plant by Cancerman. Come to think of it, why would the guy have fed him, given him clothes from his own wardrobe and brought him here rather than just turning him loose. Alex frowned. This needed investigation.

And he needed a fix. He really did. He could feel his hands shaking, and the chills were already starting. He thought quickly, seeking a plausible reason for being in Hong Kong, and starting to sweat.

"I... There was a tape that I was couriering for a third party. It contained important information, and it was supposed to be going to a particular organization; I was the middle man for the transaction. It's gone, and I never got to deliver it. I'm betting that there'll be a price on my head before too long."

Dean seemed uninterested in the true purpose of the item Alex had been carrying. Instead he just nodded as he took another bite of food. "Look, I don't care what was on the tape, who it was to go to or why." He set his plate down as he leaned forward. "I just want to know if this could happen again to someone else and stop it from happening, if I can."

"I think you were possessed by something. It rode you back here, but why I don't know? I think there is more you aren't telling me. You told me first you were investigating a theft, and now you say you were a courier? I just want to know what else you aren't telling me. Like where whatever was inside you went. When it came out of you did it vanish, go in a vent... what?"

"I told you before - it was dark. I didn't even see what it looked like, just felt that it was greasy and burned my skin." Alex set down the chopsticks he was using and looked at Dean, his face suddenly panicked. "Damned right I was possessed. I can't think of any other way to describe what happened. What I don't understand is how... or why."

He made as if to start eating again, and then suddenly turned pale. "And, God, please don't make me go back in there. Suppose it found me again. Suppose..." His voice dropped, and he looked positively panic-stricken. "Suppose I got locked in there again."

Dean sighed, murmuring, "Neither do I. Don't know how or why." He looked Alex over, reading the panic that he was projecting. There was fear in there, and he didn't really blame the man. "No, not taking you back there. Not going to let it happen to you again. If anything I'm going to make sure it doesn't happen to anyone else."

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

Part 3: The Greatest Treasure

I used to search for happiness, I used to follow pleasure
But there's a place behind my mind, and that's the greatest treasure
For rulers like to lay down laws and rebels like to break them
While poor priests like to walk in chains and God likes to forsake them
"October Song," by the Incredible String Band.

Dean stared at the man for a quiet moment. There seemed to be nothing special about him, but then most demons were not picky on the people they possessed. But the reason why it had ridden Val from Hong Kong to here was baffling him. He wished his Dad were here right now. His father was good with patterns, with piecing things together.

"After you're done eating, why don't you lie down, get some rest? I'll... keep watch over you." He reached out, bumping the man with his leg, rubbing a bit, "Don't worry, I won't make you go near that place."

The reassurance was welcome, and Alex felt a great weight go from his mind. He began to eat again, stretching nonchalantly to press his leg closer to Dean's, finding the contact comforting as much as it was arousing.

"You won't go away, will you?" he asked, allowing a little panic to show in his eyes again. "I... I don't know how ready I am to be on my own."

Dean's own green eyes took in the man before him as he ate. In a way, the man reminded him of his little brother, Sam. The dark hair, a little long, hanging down in his eyes. Though the eyes were green, and Sam's were hazel, there was that little touch of fear, of vulnerability he'd seen so often in his brother. Dean feared that, if this man gave a pout, lowered his lashes then lifted them back up to look at him, he would feel that same tightening in his chest that he always did with Sam, and then he'd give in to whatever was asked. Dean felt the urge to push away as he always did to protect himself. To say something smart.

He had to divert his eyes, look out the window. "I really should go back out there but..." Shit, there was that look, and Dean could tell that physical contact was needed. "It can wait. Just relax, you're safe here. I'll... keep an eye on you." He stopped talking abruptly, aware that he had almost spilled the same words he was so used to telling Sam, that he would protect him.

"Look, you sleep on the bed; I'll keep watch, sound good?"

"The bed, right..." Alex looked at the bed, then back at Dean. "You don't have to stay up on account of my modesty. I don't mind sharing." Inside, he was screaming, wondering what to say or do to get this man to stay close to him. Sex might do it. He could seduce - that, after all, was what he did best. Very well then, seduction it must be. He'd fuck someone a whole lot less beautiful than Dean, if it meant that he didn't have to be alone in that bed tonight. Frowning, he turned back to look at his companion.

His eyes traveled the length of Dean, starting with his eyes and flicking down over his torso and back to meet his gaze. Pursing his lips, Alex smiled, wondering if his panic was showing through. "To tell you the truth, I'm kinda scared of the dark right now. I'm a big pussy, yeah?"

Dean took a bite of his food, noting the way his companion's eyes traveled over him. He shifted a little but didn't draw his leg away while he considered the idea of sharing. The only times he'd ever shared his bed had been when he and Sam were much younger, and he'd been protecting his precious brother, because there was reason to do so - reasons this man didn't know about. He wondered if he could bring himself to do it now with this panicked, pretty stranger.

"No, not a pussy," Dean bit back any smart-ass remark he might have blurted out. "There are... reasons to be scared of the dark. I know. When I was a kid growing up... I saw things." He left it at that. Not 'til he could trust the guy would he tell much more. "I told you I would watch over you, and I will. Hey, want another beer? Will relax you?" He got up and went back to the fridge to pull two more bottles out.

"Yeah, thanks." Alex smiled up at Dean as he took the bottle from him, allowing his fingers to close over Dean's and linger. "I think I really need to relax." He licked his lips as he popped the top on the beer. "Cheers, Dean," he murmured. "Here's to you, and your fortunate presence in that god-forsaken hole."

He drank deeply, tilting his head back and swallowing, then set the bottle down on the table and leaned forward to reach again for Dean's hand. "You could help me relax a little better, if you wanted to," he murmured, voice full of soft promises. "I'd make it worth your while."

As Alex's fingers came into contact with Dean's, lingering, Dean felt a burn go through him. He didn't let it show as he drew his hand back to pop the top on his own bottle. He walked around to sit back in his chair, lounging with legs apart, slouching in his seat. "Cheers." He raised his beer, watching as the other man drank.

It was almost like staring at a wreck, Dean couldn't take his eyes away as Alex tipped his head back and swallowed, muscles moving. Dean had to look away or his train of thought was going to head south rather quickly. It wasn't that he hadn't had one night stands before, although most of the time they were with women. He hadn't been with a man since...

Dean took a drink, his eyes going to the man as he leaned forward, reaching for contact again. Fingers brushed. And that voice. Dean looked down at their hands then back to Alex, "Risking a little here aren't you? How do you know I won't kick your ass for making such an offer?" He took his hand away from Alex's and quickly turned his own to capture his companion's wrist.

Dean set his beer down and leaned forward. "Listen," his voice was softer, "You don't have to do this." He stared into another set of green eyes. "But if it will 'relax' you, come here." Dean got up, pulling Alex to the bed. He took off his shoes then climbed on the bed, pulling Alex with him and to him, just to hold.

"You won't kick my ass," said Alex, certainty ringing in his voice. He grinned suddenly, his fear for the moment vanquished. "I'm not entirely defenseless, you know, and besides, a little pain is always good."

He gave a soft sigh as Dean pressed in against him, their heights a perfect match. Dean was warm, and Alex slipped his arms around him, tilted his chin inviting a kiss and lay looking at the man who had rescued him.

"Freckles," he whispered, voice a husky murmur. "I like freckles, and I know I don't have to do anything. I just want to. Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are?"

Dean had given a little laugh at Alex's first words, and at least he'd managed to make the man smile, but it was still in the back of Dean's mind, the vexed question of why he had been brought to that location? What was so special about it? It would have to be looked into. Research was needed, and fast, and that meant contacting people, since his father was off doing his 'thing.'

"Well, yeah, I do." Dean smirked a little, drawn back from his musings as he felt the sigh and the press of the other man's body. He hadn't held anyone like this to comfort and make feel secure since Sam. Just like Sam as well, there was that tilt of the chin, lips slightly parted, wet by his own tongue.

Dean held Alex closer, burying his face into the man's neck, just nuzzling, letting his breath heat the area, and his lips rub against the beginnings of stubble despite his recent shave. "I'll admit you do smell good, now that you've showered."

"I taste even better," laughed Alex, sliding a hand down to fondle Dean's ass. "Why don't you sample?" He was beginning to feel safe, now that Dean was pressing against him, on familiar ground as he felt Dean growing hard against his thigh.

Fingers fumbled with Dean's T-shirt, reached under to skim the muscular back and trim waist, and Alex leaned in to nibble on Dean's shoulder, tongue painting small circles on the smooth skin.

"You feel good," he said, his voice a purr. "You make me feel safe as well as horny, and I can't think of a better way to feel right now."

Dean couldn't help getting hard. The man's body was warm, his hands wandering. It felt so good to be touched and needed. Perhaps that was why he always seemed to go for one night stands – He'd always done it with the exception of Cassie, and that had been a relationship which had gone to shit in very short order. With his fleeting relationships, he got the attention for a little while, and felt as if he was needed and wanted, even while knowing that it wouldn't – couldn't last. God knew he'd never felt that his father really needed him, and then there was Sam, who didn't need him either, and who had left him, gone away to college to try and live his famous 'normal' life.

Licking over Alex's neck, Dean stopped at his ear to nibble and paint with his tongue. His own hands wandered, scoping out the man's muscles. He sighed heatedly against Alex's ear, a leg curling over his companion's. Alex let out a little sound as he was touched, and when he talked about feeling safe, it sounded almost like something that Sam might have said. It made Dean press in closer. "How about drained and satisfied?"

Dean moved his body over Alex's, lowering his head to kiss him. Those lips had him groaning. It took every ounce of Dean's will to pull away and move down that body. His hands pushed up on the too-tight tee shirt. "Take this off!" He leaned down, biting at skin over the broad span of Alex's chest.

This was better – they were on a much more level playing field right now, and Alex chuckled, the laugh rumbling deep in his chest as he pulled the shirt over his head and off. "Your wish is my command." He reached down to tug at the hem of Dean's shirt too. "But you need to reciprocate, man; it's only fair."

Kisses followed, increasingly deep and wet. Alex let Dean lead them, his perceptions telling him that Dean got off on being the protector, and enjoying the chance to be seduced, cosseted and protected by this very attractive man. "And as for drained and satisfied, I'm aiming for that, but I hope it doesn't come too soon, because I can foresee a lot of fun in the mileage between horny and drained." He snickered again, reached down with his hand to slide fingers into Dean's jeans and squeeze the tempting flesh of his ass. "It's worth taking my time, because… well, because your mouth is probably the most incredible one I've ever seen, and I want to get my money's worth."

Pulling back slightly, Dean made enough room to allow the shirt to slip over his head, so that their chests were skin to skin. Alex was hot, heated by their contact, and so was Dean. He'd never thought he would be this way with another man beside Sam and yet here he was. Perhaps it was because Alex was pushing all the right buttons, that husky, honeyed voice whispering all the right words to pull at Dean's strings.

Dean used tongue and teeth, returning the kisses in just as heated a way as Alex. He gave a chuckle, "Well thanks, good to know I'm worth something to someone," it was a slip, and to cover it up Dean moved back, so he could move down the man's body. He kissed and sucked, pulling at flesh, groaning softly as his hand went down to cup Alex, gripping him firmly to feel his hard cock then rub. "You got a nice sized one." He looked up, "Let's set it free shall we?"

The slip hadn't gone amiss. So this guy has self-esteem problems, thought Alex. He frowned, totally unable to understand why. The man was gorgeous - incredible, with perfect teeth set in the hottest mouth he'd ever seen, and thick-lashed, moss-green eyes that were by turns laughing, concerned or flashing irritation beneath expressive brows. Alex could see himself getting addicted to him, if he wasn't careful.

And of course, Alex was always careful, but that didn't mean he couldn't savor the here and now. Dean's fingers were stroking his cock, and his mouth was nibbling, licking and tugging at his skin in a practiced, distracting way. He gave a gentle moan and set about appearing to be in need of protection, so that Dean would protect him all the way to an orgasm that he could tell even now was going to be stunning.

"You feel so good," he whispered, lips barely grazing Dean's ear. "I feel safe with you; you're so strong, so perfect." His mouth slid down over Dean's shoulder, nibbled the hollow at his collar bone, and licked up the column of his throat. His hand was wandering down, skimming the flesh of Dean's flat belly to find and start unfastening the button and zipper that held his jeans closed. "Want to feel you - want to get you hard for me."

Dean closed his eyes, the words cutting and digging in deep. It felt good – no, it felt great to be needed again. Wanted. Dean leaned into Alex's mouth, feeling his breath so heated upon his flesh. Alex's tongue gliding over his skin made him moan a little, his head lifting and tilting back.

He gave a little laugh, "Well, you won't have to work to hard for that." He rolled to the side, helping to get his jeans open, succeeding in fumbling them open, even though Alex's hand kept getting in the way. "Eager little bastard aren't you?" he chuckled softly, then gave up and jerked his jeans off, tossing them aside. "Your turn." He leaned in, biting Alex's neck, a hand caressing over his chest.

I must really need this, he thought. His cock was hard and wanting to be touched. He watched as Alex worked his own pants off. "Damn," he whispered at the sight of him, when at last he was naked.

"Damn is right," growled Alex, zeroing in on Dean's soft skin, skimming his hips, sliding his hands along taut thighs and stroking over the evidence of arousal that jutted from Dean's groin. "You are the most beautiful, sexy guy I've ever seen in my life."

He caught at Dean's hair, pulling him up, so that he could kiss him, the caress slow and sensual. "I want to make this last. Who knows when I'll ever feel as safe and protected again?" His mouth slid over Dean's lips; his tongue flickered along the soft tissues inside of Dean's mouth, and he nipped and nibbled as he lent himself to his companion, growing more and more familiar with the way that Dean responded.

"You're just saying that," Dean commented, as his hair was pulled. He let out a little growl as he kissed the man who was pulling him to his lips. Dean's mouth worked against Alex's, slow and sensual, little kisses alternating with deeper ones. "We have time," Dean whispered, stroking his hands over Alex's body as he explored it.

"Let me taste you," he whispered, mouth dragging down from ear to neck and down. "Want to see, if you're as juicy as I think you are." Slipping down the bed, he lapped at Dean's stomach, nipped at the indentation at his navel and slowly took possession of his cock.

Dean wanted to explore more, but his head was tipping back as that wonderful mouth worked its way down. "I could add a little salt to that," He laughed softly, referring to his earlier spilling of salt on the floor, although that was probably only funny to him. He hissed in a breath as his belly button was nipped, and shivered as Alex moved inexorably lower. Dean squirmed upon the bed, pushing up higher - not to get away, but to give Alex more room.

Opening his legs wider, Dean looked down, one hand upon the man's head, "Juicy, now that is a new one. I feel like a juice box now," he smirked then groaned as warmth surrounded him. "Fuck but you have a talented mouth."

"And you taste good enough to be the best dessert I ever had," murmured Alex, slicking up Dean's cock and then pulling back to lavish attention on the head of it. "You're right; we have plenty of time. I think I'd like to drag things out a little and see just how much you can take, before you start begging me to fuck you."

He smiled again, then began once more to suck and lick at the head of Dean's cock, a little worried that he might be coming on slightly too strong for a man who had been apparently freaking out. "You make me feel incredibly good," he husked. "You make me feel really safe, and I want to give you everything you ever wanted."

He bent his neck, his mouth working on Dean, then slowly pulled away. "There was this man once," he said. "I loved him - he had a beautiful mouth. Yours is prettier. Dean, I think I could love you, if I don't stop myself."

"You're just saying that because I saved your ass. I hear it's some kind of thing that happens, because you were rescued. You'll see his... mmm... mouth again and forget all about me. Besides, I tried love once..."

"Mmm, I don't beg... much," Dean groaned as he scratched blunt nails over Alex's scalp. Fuck but Alex was doing a really good job at working him up. He shifted a little then froze as Alex sucked first upon his crown and then the rest of him. He swallowed hard, feeling like his eyes were going to roll back in his head, while his fingers gripped the pillows. Dean hadn't had a blow job like this in a long while. The women he had been with lately didn't usually bother, and though they were always fun, they weren't usually as skilled as this man he'd rescued. His head thumped back against the headboard. "Val... fuck me..."

"It would be my pleasure," whispered Alex pulling off and moving up again so he could purr his words into Dean's ear. "You're special, man, despite what you say." His wet tongue slid into the ear he was attacking as his hand slid down to take over where his mouth had left off. "Do you have anything, or shall we go bareback? I'm clean."

He was trembling at the thought of Dean lying like a banquet for him to feast on. "You'll have a great time, Dean. I'll make it worth your while, I promise. I love your mouth, and you're beautiful. I want you so badly."

Dean had closed his eyes as Alex washed his ear with his tongue. He felt like he couldn't breathe. The air was thick around him, and he was trying everything he could to take in enough air. He barely understood what Alex asked, and he could only look at his jeans on the floor, unable to form a coherent thought. "Bareback. Just fucking bareback. But I swear, I get anything, I am hunting your ass down and kicking it all the way to the hospital." His words were severe, but the kiss Dean gifted him with belied them.

Pulling away from that sucking kiss, he moaned, shifting as he wiggled under Alex. He pulled his legs up and back, opening up to the man then pulling him down to kiss again. "Want me, have me, while I still let you," he smirked and kissed him again more deeply. Dean just wanted to feel him, be numb for a while and feel needed. Alex was doing a wonderful job at helping him with that.

Alex hadn't expected Dean to say yes, but the response he got from Dean sent the blood singing in his ears. Dean was completely delicious, beautiful and desperate, spread out for him, and Alex lost no time in taking advantage of the fact.

Somewhere deep in the back of his mind, Alex registered the fact that Dean was still showing evidence of an inferiority complex, but he filed it away for later consideration. Now was all about the wet, messy kisses, the slide of skin over skin, and the slow sinking of his cock into the welcoming heat of Dean's body.

Burying himself in Dean's flesh, Alex wrapped a hand around the younger man's cock and began to jack it in time with the flexing of his hips. He couldn't stop looking at Dean, those brilliant, green eyes darkened as Alex fucked him, the full, kiss-plumped lips drawn back as Dean gasped for breath. The man was utterly delightful, and Alex decided then and there that this ought to be more than just a one night stand.

Dean's body was ready and eager. Yes, it hurt at first, but Dean bit back the pain. He only let out a grunt, a gasp at the initial burn and another as it began to ease while Alex slowly entered him, filling and stretching till no more could be taken. His head pushed back into the bedding under him, one hand gripping at the sheets, twisting and pulling, while the other gripped the upper part of Alex's arm.

Alex's hand was doing wonders, the slide taking away all thoughts from him. The blood rushed through him, pounding in his ears, drowning out the rest of the world. Dean allowed himself to get lost in the moment, kissing the man over him as he was being fucked. Leaving go of the sheets, Dean slapped his hand up against the headboard and used it for balance and to keep from sliding on the bed, because each thrust of Alex's hips against his ass was driving him higher and higher 'til he was in danger of banging his head.

"Not long... just a little... oh shit!" Alex had moved his hips just right, hitting that sweet spot men had. Dean felt his insides turn to mush, and he closed his eyes with a deep groan, "There... oh fuck... right there..." His grip upon Alex's arm nearly was bruising. Dean suddenly felt his body still, his release slam into him, and he was suddenly making a mess of his own body and Alex's hand.

And oh, God! Dean was convulsing around Alex, sucking the juices out of him, wet, and messy, and slippery, and tight and wonderful. Alex plunged into Dean, locked his hips tight, sucked on the other man's tongue as though he were starving, and felt his body melt, pour itself into Dean, shivery bliss rocking him with every little jerk and twitch of his cock.

He collapsed onto the other man's chest and lay panting, unable to do anything but try and regain control of his breathing.

"Oh, God," he gasped, when he could finally talk again. "Do you know what you just did to me? I think you killed me. That was quite the most incredible experience I ever had. It was worth getting stranded in that place, just so I could meet you." Dean was spent, his body trembling, legs quaking against the man's body. His body was heated from release, sweat beading upon him, smearing into the sticky jism that had come with his release. He dropped his hands to his sides, allowed his limp legs to remain where they were, wrapped around Alex's waist and did his best to get his breath back to normal.

"I bet you say that to all those you meet like this," Dean mumbled.

"You'd better believe it!" Alex gave a shout of laughter at his words and kissed him again, hard and intense. "Every last one of them, and may I say that of them all, you are the best." He grinned, his white teeth gleaming in the lamplight. "Seriously, I could fall for you, man. You've got it all - Chinese food, classic car, great music and a hot ass. What more could I ever want?"

"A cookie?" Dean added, "And you forgot the beer." His lips still burned from their kisses, and his head was still spinning as well, but he wanted to lower his legs, so he pushed gently at Alex, "Get off me, you horn dog," He smiled a bit as he slowly rolled them to their sides and pulled Alex from him.

Free, Dean rolled off the bed and went into the bathroom, running the water to clean up. "I have a few more questions for you," he shouted, then came back out with a hot washcloth and tossed it upon Alex, "You mentioned someone... a Mulder. Who is he? Did he know about what was riding you?"

Dean sat down upon the bed, grabbing at his clothing to pull on at least his underwear and try to erect some kind of barrier between himself and what had just occurred.

"Come on back to me, and I'll tell you all about Mulder," murmured Alex, running his finger down Dean's spine and then rolling to kiss the dimples at the base of it. "You're running away from me, and I miss you already."

He reached to pull Dean back against him, laughing softly. "Let me see; what can I tell you about Mulder? He hates me, for a start, and he's got a mouth that's almost as perfect as yours. Mulder's a fed, my young friend. He's a fed who would dearly love to... actually, I suspect he'd like to kill me, but that's because he used to be my lover, and he feels slighted."

Dean glanced over his shoulder to Alex, stood to pull his underwear back up, then moved, saying nothing about the comment that he was running away. Dean always did that, one way or another. Since Cassie, he had tried very hard not to let himself be vulnerable, and had relied heavily on his father's rules of engagement, the first one being, 'don't ever get attached.'

Climbing back onto the bed, Dean settled with his back to the headboard and one leg bent as he pulled Alex against him, hand rubbing over his back. He gritted his teeth and rolled his eyes. He hated authorities of any kind. "Fed, great." The words were grumbled out. "What does he do?" he asked, wondering if he really wanted to know. "Will he be coming back out here looking for you?"

"Would I care?" Alex smiled again, a predatory smile that spoke of his confidence. "He won't find me, and I don't think he'll even know that I was there - I mean, why would he? I don't even know why, and I was the one in the hole." He slid a hand along Dean's chest, pausing to circle a coppery nipple with his finger before dragging his hand over the shoulder and up to find and trace Dean's mouth.

"He and I were over and done with long ago, and now the only reason he chases me around is because he can't let go. He's in charge of a stupid little department in the FBI that investigates paranormal activities. How bizarre is that?"

Dean started thinking again. Why would something possess this man and bring him out to Fargo, at the ass end of the universe? And there had to be a reason his father had sent him here. He must have known or guessed something about a possession. John was a fucking genius when it came to those kinds of things. Of course he always left it for Dean to figure it out. But still... why? And was this thing a demon and... was it tied to the Winchester family in any way?

Dean wondered if he had sounded jealous, asking about Mulder, even though he was really just trying to piece things together. He reached up and moved his talisman back onto his chest. "Paranormal activities? Didn't know the FBI was into that or even cared." He smiled inwardly, thinking about the stories he could tell, the evidence he had, and all his own notes in his journal. Dean pulled Alex tighter to him, "What do you think of what he does?"

"The FBI doesn't care. Mulder's the one that cares. He thinks that the world is going to be taken over by little green men from outer space, and he's looking for proof." Alex veiled his eyes, hoping that Dean would take his scornful tone as evidence that he didn't believe in the existence of aliens. "He's been given the X-Files - that's what the department is called - to keep him out of the way. People laugh at him, you know."

He paused. "What do I think? I have an open mind. Something brought me here, didn't it? And I don't know what it was. I think I'd be fucking stupid to ignore any possibilities at this point, although I swear to god that if there were aliens around, I didn't see any."

Leaning into Dean a little, Alex continued to caress the soft skin over the other man's flat stomach. "And I didn't get the anal probe..." He waggled his eyebrows. "...yet!"

Dean veiled his eyes, then gave a chuckle, "You are about as bad as me." He turned his mouth to Alex's and kissed him. "Get some sleep, but I need to go back out there in the morning. Hopefully I won't run into anyone while I'm out there."

Dean wasn't sure about little green men coming to take over the earth, but he knew about other things. He'd been aware of them pretty much since he was four. He also found it kind of laughable that an FBI agent - or the FBI for that matter - hadn't found anything. Nobody had ever found any evidence of what he and his family had been fighting all these years.

"What do I think?" Dean gave a chuckle, "Well I don't believe in little green men but..." He sighed, "There are things out there. Paranormal things. And I'm thinking... you were possessed for some reason. By what... I don't know."

"Possessed? That's such an old fashioned word." Alex frowned. "I guess you're right though. What would it be? The ghost of some soldier trying to get home from a foreign land? If I were the soldier, I think I'd rather stay in Hong Kong." He looked at Dean, his face expressing the bafflement he was feeling. "And just where the hell is this, anyway? I don't even know where I am, and that sucks."

"We're out in the middle of nowhere. North Dakota, Fargo." Dean lowered his head to Alex's neck and started kissing it softly. "Don't worry though, I'll protect you. I'll take care of you." Dean paused, "Till you are ready to go home."

Alex hugged Dean close, and there was tension in his arms as he fell silent. It was a moment before he spoke again. "I... I guess I'll go with you, if you've got a gun I can borrow. Two of us are probably more use than one. I can watch your back."

"You don't have to go." Dean answered and then stroked Alex's arm to try and get him to relax again. "I have been doing this a while, I can take care of it." he considered the situation for a moment, "Although, if you insist, I got guns. I got what we need when we go back."

"I can't let you go in there on your own," said Alex, letting a little panic bleed into his voice. "Suppose you end up trapped, like I was?" He pulled Dean against him, arms suddenly tight around his body. "I can't just sit here and wait - I'd feel like a girl or something."

The hand that had been caressing Dean's stomach slid up to cup his cheek, and Alex stared into Dean's eyes, willing him to listen. "Whatever got me is still in there. You don't want it to take you, do you?" He lowered his lashes again. It had suddenly occurred to Alex that he might have to kill this beautiful boy, if he discovered too much, and that thought was not something he welcomed. He would have liked to hang out with Dean for a while, he was not only gorgeous, but he had a good brain, and he was a wonderful fuck. Alex didn't want to waste any of that. "I don't want it to take you, anyway," he murmured and bent to suck a hickey into Dean's neck.

Dean gazed back into Alex's eyes, doing what he thought Alex was willing him to do. "No, I don't want it to take me, but I have to stop it from taking others." He gave Alex a sudden grin. "Hey, don't worry, it's not gonna take me away. I've done this kind of thing before," and then moaned softly as Alex left his mark on his neck.

"Okay, okay, you can come with me," Dean tried to assure Alex, but he knew he would have to tell Alex more when the time came. He didn't particularly want to tell him about what he did and how he did it. That was something his father had told him never to do if he could possibly avoid it. However Dean was starting to feel like he had little choice. This man was scared. But whatever it was that had taken him, Dean had to stop it.

"Why don't you get some sleep, okay? We'll talk more in the morning," He pulled back from Alex for a minute, to look at him and then kissed him deeply. "Now sleep," he whispered.

Despite Alex's worries, it was really easy to fall asleep in Dean's arms. His belly was full, his body still tingled from the very welcome exercise, and he was tired, so tired.

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

Part 4: No Way of Knowing

I met a man whose name was Time. He said, "I must be going."
But just how long ago that was, I have no way of knowing.
Sometimes I could murder time, when my heart is aching
But mostly I just stroll along the path that he is taking.
"October Song," by the Incredible String Band.

Alex's sleep was fitful. Strange, ugly images paraded through his dreams, bright lights and men screaming as they died, but it was well past dawn when he awoke. His first instinct was to dive out of the suspiciously soft bed and run, but slowly his memory of the previous evening returned, and he relaxed, reaching for his companion, only to find that the bed beside him was empty.

"Dean?" He yawned and sat up, wondering if the other had gone back to the silo without him. "Hey, buddy, you there?"

Dean had fallen asleep straight away as well, but he hadn't had any dreams, fitful or otherwise. It was true that he sometimes had nightmares, but this night he slept like a baby. He had curled himself up against Alex, soothing him much as he used to soothe his little brother. That action had brought its own share of guilt, and when morning finally came Dean was up like a shot, showered and out the door to get some coffee.

He had hoped to return before Alex woke, but just as he was coming in, jean jacket over his shoulders, bag of donuts in one hand and two coffees in the other, he heard that voice.

"I'm here, Val; don't panic." Dean set the cups down and went over to sit on the bed, reaching into the bag for a donut. "Got donuts and coffee," he murmured, offering one to his erstwhile bed partner. "As soon as you are ready, we can head out to the silo." He reached over to take a drink of his coffee as he was speaking, not looking at Alex.

The coffee was really welcome, although his words were not. Alex sipped gratefully, and he couldn't help watching with a smile as Dean stuffed his face with donuts. "You like donuts, yeah?" He hopped out of the bed and headed to the bathroom to wash up, before dressing swiftly in his borrowed clothes.

Dean gave a shrug, "It was what was available." Dean was used to getting what was available. Throughout his childhood Sam had usually had the first of everything, purely because he, Dean, couldn't resist him when he pulled his puppy-dog face. There had been a mountain of pancakes, waffles, the Lucky Charms that had all gone to his baby brother throughout their childhood. Dean would only get some, if his dad was there to make sure they had equal parts, and Dean guesses, when he thinks about it at all, that he's making up for all the lost snacks just because he can.

It was raining outside, a cold, unpleasant drizzle that made the world look grey. Alex shivered as he peered out of the window. "Okay, let's do it," he said softly. "You were gonna lend me a gun, yeah?"

Dean had been drinking his coffee as Alex showered, and now he stared out the window wishing it would stop raining. It was going to be a wet, cold day. Lifting his head as Alex came out of the bathroom, he nodded. "Yeah, it's in the back of the car." He got up, heading out and locking the door before going around to open up the trunk.

The Impala's trunk appeared empty at first, but as he reached for the latch at the bottom and opened it, the contents were revealed. First he tossed an old jacket of his brother's to Alex, and then Dean grabbed one of the shotguns, propping the lid of the trunk open with it. He reached down, pulling out a gun and checking it. He grabbed a clip, checked that as well and smiled. "Pure, wrought-iron rounds will drive any spirits away." He handed it over to Alex and grabbed another to shove in his own pants, then took some holy water and held it out to Alex, "We'll need that." He studied Alex, trying to decide whether or not he would need to make lengthy explanations, and deciding that it wouldn't hurt to give Val a little information. Taking a deep breath, he launched into an explanation.

"I'm a hunter; I hunt the paranormal; I help people and save lives. The pay is crappy when there is any at all, but, hey, I get to shoot guns." He closed the trunk after loading up his bag with more weapons and a bunch of flares, then he moved around to the driver's side and got in. "I know it may seem strange to you, Val, but I don't think I'm any stranger than your ex."

"Strange? Well, maybe a little strange, but wow, how cool!" Alex's eyes had widened at the sight of the stuff in the Impala's trunk. "You're a cool guy as well as a hot one, aren't you?" He gave Dean a grin and climbed in beside him, checking the gun he'd been given all over again.

"Hmm... nicely maintained. You're good, aren't you? Tell me, Dean, do you ever get the urge to look outside of the supernatural for your fun?" Alex spoke nonchalantly, but he cast Dean a sideways glance. It had occurred to him that Dean would make an excellent recruit, and that he would stand much more of a chance going up against the Consortium with this young man at his back. "Especially if there was...pay?" he added.

Dean glanced over at him as he started the car and turned on the radio. "Of course they're well maintained. Gotta keep the tools working. I just cleaned them all last week." He smirked as he pulled away from the motel and headed out the way they'd come the night before. At least it was daylight now, and the rain, though steady, was light. "As far as working outside the supernatural, I don't know? Like what?" he asked, turning his head to survey Alex. "Me and work... we don't get along. Means I have to stay around one place longer than I like. And usually work is... well it's work. I'd rather... well... something fun and easy is much more up my alley. A job... I couldn't come and go as I please, you know?"

"I do." Alex was warming more and more to this young man. "I don't like the daily grind either, but with the job I have, it's not a problem – I come and go as I want, and the profits are all mine. I don't share with any boss." He fell quiet then, getting nervous despite himself as they approached the silo. "You see anyone around?" he asked, peering through the rain-drenched windshield to try and spot the Smoker and his henchmen.

Dean parked close to the silo this time, peering about and then looking back at Alex, "Nope. No cars, no other tire tracks except ours." He pushed open the door to get out and closed it with the usual creak. Glancing over the car at Alex, he could see just how nervous the other man was about getting out to go exploring.

Clutching the gun Dean had given him, Alex emerged nervously from the Impala and stood nervously looking around. "Okay, you got any plan for this? What are we looking for, and how will we know when we find it?"

"I have an EMF meter; it will tell us if something is around. Also, if there's any sort of presence about the lights will flicker, so trust me, you'll know." Dean walked around the car and grabbed Alex's hand, pulling him away from the car, then turned on the flashlight and handed it to Alex. Bending his head, he turned on his home-made EMF and started to explore, heading for the area where he'd found Alex. There was no response from his instrument.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I'm not getting anything," Dean whispered back.

Watching Dean, Alex felt more and more impressed. The way he moved, the confident way he held himself, and the skills he seemed to have – all were things Alex possessed himself and admired in others. It was at that moment that Alex decided Dean would definitely be a keeper.

He followed in Dean's tracks, and tapped the young man on the shoulder. "Don't want to spoil the party, but suppose some big black cloud thing suddenly does come for us, what do we do? Shoot it? Run? Pray?"

Dean glanced over his shoulder at his companion, "Black cloud?" He thought a moment, "Both, run and shoot?" Turning, he looked about. "But I don't think we have anything to worry about. Nothing is about, or so it seems." Coming to a halt, Dean peered into one of the doors and then down the corridor, before he turned to face Alex.

Stopping, he shone his light down onto a cigarette butt. He moved over and crouched down, lifting it up. "Morley?" Dean looked back up at Alex, "You said you were alone, and this looks recent." He dropped the butt he'd been holding. "The demon might have hitched another ride. You didn't see anyone?"

Alex froze. "I… didn't see him, no." He paused, suddenly realizing that he'd made a mistake. "Uh… I… I think I know who that belongs to. I didn't see anyone, but somehow I'm not too astonished that he was there. He's evil."

It was time now. Alex had to decide whether to confide in Dean or put a bullet into his brain, and he was feeling conflicted. In the end, he did neither. Cursing himself for a fool, he stuffed his gun down the back of his jeans and moved in to put his arms around Dean, pressing his lips against the other man's cheek. "Let's get out of here, and I'll tell you. Trust me, you don't want that badass on your trail, and there's nothing supernatural about him; he's just evil."

Dean gave Alex a very confused glance, because it looked to him as if someone had been there since the time he'd rescued Alex, or possibly the thing had hitched a ride while his companion was still locked in the vault, but anyway, whatever had been here was now long gone, so what was this that Alex was spouting about this guy? He frowned at Alex, grabbed him and pushed him back against the wall, glaring at him.

"What are you not telling me? I think you know more than what you are saying." Dean had that look in his eyes - the angry look that said he thought that he'd been used. "Now suppose you tell me everything now or..." He threw a glance down the hall but looked back at Alex.

"I told you, he's nothing to do with possessions or demons. He's government black ops." Alex grabbed the front of Dean's jacket. "If this is something he's involved with, then the feds and the military are going to be crawling all over here soon; Mulder would be the least of our troubles." He gasped for breath. "Let's get out of here, before they catch us and disappear us for good. I'll tell you what I know, but we have to leave, right now."

He was towing Dean down the corridor as he spoke, and there was obvious panic on his face. "Please, Dean? Just… just trust me for long enough to get us both safe."

"Black Ops?" Dean rolled his eyes and tried to jerk away from Alex, but he was being pulled along and couldn't get purchase to get rid of the other man's grip. He followed till they got outside into the rain and then smacked Alex's hand off him, "Trust you? Trust you? Give me a reason? What of any of the shit you've told me was the actual truth, and how will I know you are telling me the truth now?"

"I should kick your ass," he mumbled as he pulled his keys out to climb back in the car not caring whether Alex followed or not. "This whole thing was..." As Alex climbed in, he started the engine, whipped the car around and set off back to the motel. His hand snapped over to grab Alex's collar, "Alright, what the hell is going on. What does your ex, if that is what he is, have to do with any of this, and who the fuck is this evil guy you keep babbling about? What the fuck did I save you from, and what did I unleash?"

"What makes you think I've lied to you? Every word I've said to you has been the truth." Alex was shouting now too, his irritation with the young man over-riding his fear. "And you can try and kick my ass, if you want, but don't hold your breath and make sure you've got plenty of salve, because nobody kicks my ass! Nobody!"

He paused, glowering at his companion. "I don't think that it's a demon or a ghost, so you're perfectly safe. I should've guessed that he'd be involved, when Mulder showed up. Those two are as thick together as fleas on a dog. It's got to have something to do with alien technology, because the guy with the Morleys is a high up in the government, and he's Mulder's arch nemesis – like Lex Luthor and Superman, you know. If he was around, sniffing, that means that Mulder found something. When the world went black on me, I was in Mulder's custody. I was telling the truth about not knowing anything 'til I came to in that place, but it looks like Mulder got involved and tipped his hand off to Spender, that's the smoker's name."

Dean glared at Alex, "You haven't been exactly truthful or forthcoming with your answers, picking and choosing what you want to tell me," he snarled back. "And truth to tell, I have plenty of salve, and I don't hold my breath. If I want to kick your ass, I will."

He stopped the car beside the room and got out. "I don't give a shit about aliens or little green men running around. Who's to say this whole government shit hasn't just been invented by you? That they did this... whatever to you with some secret shit they've been working on?" He motioned up and down Alex as they stood in the rain. "I just know what is real. And demons and ghosts, that kind of shit, they're real."

Dean turned and headed into the room.

Alex watched him go, a frown on his face as he tried to decide what exactly would convince Dean. Absently, he wondered when it had become important to him to convince Dean as he growled his frustration out and followed the other into the motel room.

"So just what do you think is going to be proof? What the fuck do you want me to do to convince you?" he snarled, fists balled. "You can't take my word for it, then fuck you, but don't come calling out to me, when you find yourself locked in there for good, or worse. I'll be long gone, safe and drinking tequila in some bar in Tijuana or something."

Dean was stuffing his clothing into his bag when Alex walked in. "Proof, how about a little green man walking in here? I'll believe what I see with my own two eyes. I don't trust the authorities, because all they ever do is lie through their teeth, and when they can't explain something they just make shit up. They are straight in with the lies when they fuck something up. Why would they bother to tell the truth?"

He looked to Alex, tilting his head to one side, "And I believe you already did that, but don't worry. I won't be calling you, Val... if that even is your real name." He put his hands on his hips. "You suckered me. I gave you nothing but..." He turned away. "I'm leaving. So enjoy your tequila and have fun in Tijuana. I hear the girls there can pick up fruit without using their hands."

There was a pang in Alex's gut that shook him – this was not how he usually felt about one night stands. He was slipping, getting sentimental in his old age, but there was something about Dean that spoke to him. Dean was like he'd been at a similar age. Growling, he strode forward into Dean's space and grabbed the bag out of Dean's hands, throwing it across the room.

Dean jumped as his bag was jerked from his hand and tossed across the room, his eyes flashing with anger.

"How the fuck did I sucker you? Just give me one friggin' clue, and I'll let you walk." Alex shoved, catching Dean's shins on the edge of the bed so that he lost his balance and knocking him back onto it, following him down to cover his body. "You found that butt end this morning. You found me last night. You think I locked myself in that place specially? Do you? Do you?" He gave a choking laugh and bent to bite at Dean's collar bone. "Just tell me how I lied to you. Just give me one instance of anything important that misled you."

Dean struggled under Alex, trying to push him off, but the man had him well pinned with his body, and all the struggling only had them rubbing together. "Fucking bastard," Dean hissed out. "I could have missed it the first time," he snapped, but he arched his head back as lips descended onto his skin, and teeth pulled. "I think you know more than you're telling." He pushed at Dean, trying to dislodge him and failing utterly. "He left you in there, didn't he? Whatever it was that rode you back here, he followed, locking you inside, because he knew what was inside you, didn't he? Go on; tell me I got it wrong."

"How the fuck can I tell you anything? I can guess that's what happened, but I don't fucking know. I didn't have any awareness of what was happening to me. I woke up in that... that place, and I had no idea how I got there. Why the hell don't you believe me? I didn't even have to tell you what the significance of that cigarette was. I could've kept it to myself, couldn't I?" Alex gave a jab with his hips as he spoke. "Well? Couldn't I?"

He shoved back, away from Dean, rising to his feet and stomping off to lean on the door. "So why the ego trip? I've been as honest with you as I could possibly be. Why are you acting like I killed your fucking hamster?"

Dean pushed up, rising to his feet. "Would you have told me any of it, if I hadn't found that cigarette? Would you?" He paced over. "You're playing cat and mouse with me." He shoved Alex's shoulders back into the door. "Maybe I should look up your little ex and see what he says? Huh? I don't like being lied to. Had enough of that from home." Dean gave Alex one final, scornful glare, then backed up.

"For God's sake, that's just it; I didn't lie to you. How would I have known anything, if you hadn't found the butt end? I could've kept it to myself, couldn't I, but I didn't." He crossed over to his clothes where they lie in the corner of the room. "Anyway, thanks for getting me out. Have a nice life."

Dean watched as Alex crossed the room, his body turning to follow the asshole's movements. He should just grab his bag and go. He should just cut loose, call his father and tell him the hunt was a bust. He should do a lot of things, but right now, Dean couldn't make himself move.

"Is this how you left him? So long, thanks for the good times." Dean caved at last and moved closer, blocking Alex's way, and as the other man attempted to push past him, Dean stood his ground. He took a breath. "I believe you, Val." He moved in closer, "But even with demon possessions, the person being ridden remembers and sees everything. And I've... I've never seen a substance like motor oil come from a person as a result of possession. Black mist, yes, but… It looked like someone gave you an oil change. And... I can't let..." Dean made a face as he looked to the side.

"And I can't let you go. Not without knowing you will be safe. Because, if that thing is still out there, you're an easy target." He looked back to Alex. "We need to find something to protect you."

Alex was stunned. He lifted his hands, wanting to touch Dean, pull him in and hold him. Damn, but the young man had really gotten to him, and he felt unaccountably soft and slightly stupid. Hands reached, touched, petted Dean's cheek, then were dragged forcibly away.

"I... I don't want to go." Well that was a good start. He felt as silly as he sounded, but it was true, and when exactly had he started to tell people the truth about himself? "I don't know what it was, but the oil stuff was all over me when it left. Maybe if we can talk to Mulder or one of the feds, we can question them about what it is, or maybe..."

For a moment he stood lost in thought, and then he beamed. "There's a possibility that we could... that I could find out. I know someone I could call."

Dean didn't move as Alex touched him, and any smart ass remark he wanted to let loose was bitten back - for a change. Instead he swallowed hard. His eyes stayed locked to the other man's, and he sighed in relief as Alex said he didn't want to go. He told himself that it would make it easier protecting him from another possession, if he was willing to stay.

"You're talking about kidnapping a federal agent. And as much as I hate the authorities, I'm also not ready to do time." Dean shook his head, but then he paused, "Who?" he asked, because he had his own sources too. "Because I think I know a way we can get some information as well." He thought for a moment, "If I can get a hold of an ID badge..."

"No, you wouldn't last five minutes inside, as hot as you are. You'd be at the mercy of every big baddie in the jail." Alex gave Dean a rueful grin. "You'd never walk straight again, baby." He ran his fingers along Dean's jaw, stroking his thumb over a cheekbone that was sharp as a knife and leant forward to brush a kiss over the full mouth. "I think I'd rather take care of you myself; you're special."

He smiled at Dean. "So do we have a truce? I know these freaky little conspiracy theorist dudes, who might be able to tell me what this oil stuff is all about, and they can certainly supply us with any kind of ID, and anyone else you can toss into the mix will be cool."

Dean wondered when it had happened. When had he let his guard down and decided not to push this guy away as if he were hot coals? Perhaps it was that look in his eyes that reminded him of Sam. Those little pouts, and the way he kept touching him, and... oh yes, the kiss. Dean found himself leaning into the kiss.

"Who is taking care of who?" he asked, pretending to think for a moment, then he nodded, "Truce, okay." He tipped his head to one side, "Conspiracy theorist? New source for me!" His informants tended more to be college people and other hunters. "Well, I know this guy who works for the airlines. Recovers crashes. He might be able to run some of that oil stuff through his lab."

"Okay, you contact your boys; I'll do mine."

It wasn't long before Alex was in touch with Frohike, and after overcoming the initial reluctance the Gunman had about talking to someone he thought of as a heinous felon - threats are always a real motivator, he thought - quizzed him about possible possessions. The information that the Lone Gunman had was very vague, but once Alex described the events he'd been a part of, Frohike began to describe the events he had heard from Mulder about the Piper Maru and about the seaman, Gaulthier.

"Sounds like it's the same phenomenon you've encountered, dude," murmured Frohike, sounding a little abstracted. "I know that Mulder was trying to find Gaulthier's wife, and that's what took him to Hong Kong. He's a little pissed that he lost you though. He really thought he had you, that time."

"They seek me here, they seek me there..." said Alex, not bothering to hide the smirk that infused his words. "Tell me more about the guys that were found dead of radiation burns when Mulder crashed."

"Yeah, there was oil all over the car. I'm guessing that the oil and the radiation burns are linked. Mulder said there were dead soldiers in that silo in North Dakota he was led to..."

"Mulder was in North Dakota?" Alex was careful to keep his voice level, but things were starting to fall into place now. "Okay, man, thanks for that. Talk at you later, k?"

Dean waited as Alex called his 'friend,' using his phone, since Alex didn't have one. He stood close to the man, trying to listen in on the call and making a face at how vague the incoming information was, thinking that perhaps Alex wasn't asking the right questions.

He couldn't help making the same face again at the comment of Mulder having Alex. Something inside him was gnawing at his gut and making it tight. He shifted, feeling somewhat uneasy, because 'til now that sick feeling was something he'd felt only with his brother - especially when Dad had told him that Sam had met a girl and had been dating her.

Dean grimaced at Alex, shaking his head to indicate he hadn't seen any bodies. So it seemed that someone had cleaned the place out. Dean frowned as he pulled away, waiting till Alex hung up the phone. "Never heard of a possession with radiation. I think, if this is a demon possession, it's out of my league. I'd better call Bobby in on..." As he was speaking, Dean heard his phone ringing.

He took the phone from Alex, answering it. The voice at the other end of the line seemed to have Dean standing a little straighter. "Yeah, I looked into it. I think it's more Bobby's specialty. I was going to call..." Dean paused then nodded, "Yes, Sir."

He moved away from Alex to his bag, grabbing a paper and pen out of it and started to make notes "Yes, Sir." Dean hung up his phone, blinking a little. "I need to head east, Naubinway, Michigan. Job up there." He looked at Alex. "I..." Dean didn't know what to say.

"Who's Bobby?" Alex raised one eyebrow at Dean and waited. To tell the truth, it wouldn't hurt at all for him to get lost for a few days somewhere unexpected, at least until the heat died down, and Mulder quit looking for him. He was sure that Mulder was looking for him - Frohike had said as much. If he could tag along with Dean 'til the trail was good and cold, and Mulder had taken himself back to DC, then so much the better.

"And what are you going after? A ghost?" He allowed a smirk to bloom on his face - an expression that would hint at disbelief. Fingers were raised to stroke Dean's cheekbone again. "Ghosts would be horribly cold company."

"Bobby's a family friend," Dean answered. He sighed softly through his nose, then stepped back, pulling on his jacket. "I don't know yet. That's why my dad is sending me up there. Some fishing boats went out and never returned - they were found crashed on the rocks, the crew dead. Something is causing it, and I need to go check it out."

Simple explanation. He looked up to Alex. "What? You don't believe me?" He looked away, "And you expected me to believe you about little, green, oily men. Fine, fair enough. Come with me." Dean gave Alex that look of his, a little challenge upon it.

"Hmm... let me see... head off out into the wilderness to wend my lonely way off to a rocky future, where people will be trying to kill me, because I lost the item I was supposed to be transporting, or go with you, and hunt ghosts and get laid a lot... Gee, what a choice. How to decide, hmmm...?"

Once his jacket was on, Dean lifted up his bag. He gave a chuckle to Alex's response, "Get laid a lot? Confident little bastard aren't you."

Alex grinned at Dean and moved in closer, so that he could feel Dean's warmth, feel his breath against his cheek. "I need to get myself some clothes. Maybe we can stop at a thrift store on the way to wherever the fuck it was that you're going, yeah?"

He didn't move when Alex moved closer, "Michigan, and I guess we can stop." He leaned in as if to kiss Alex before pulling away with a smirk and turning to leave. "Get your ass in the car, and, no, you can't drive." Leaving the motel for the last time, he threw his bag into the trunk and walked around to the other side to get in.

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

Part 5: Some Days It Don't Come Hard

Some days it don't come easy, and some days it don't come hard
Some days it don't come at all, and these are the days that never end
Some nights you're breathing fire, and some nights you're carved in ice
Some nights you're like nothing I've ever seen before or will again
"Anything For Love," by Meat Loaf

Dean started the car, getting going once Alex was in position. "Get some more sleep; I'll wake you when we take a pit stop." He smiled to himself; his dad was gonna kill him, if he found out about this.

Laughing, Alex flipped Dean the bird as he settled himself in the car. "You think I'm gonna sleep with all those ghost stories to listen to?" Inwardly he was congratulating himself. The next few days, spent in Dean's company, promised to be not only arousing but interesting too.

"So tell me, oh Impala-wrangler, what do you think we're going to be doing, whenever we get wherever the hell we're going?"

Busy maneuvering the Impala out onto the two-lane blacktop, Dean threw a glance towards his companion before looking out of the window again, "Ghost stories?" he gave a little laugh and a shake of his head. The stories he could tell were many, but Dean wasn't going to be recounting them any time soon.

At least Alex hadn't called him Deano the way Sam had, back when he was a kid. If he'd done that, Dean would just have had to freak out. "What we'll be doing? The usual. Ask around. See what is going on. Look into a few things. Lie a little... A lot maybe. Once we find out what's causing it... We end it." Dean ran through the list like it was something he did every day.

"That okay with you? Making your skirt blow up, or the hairs on the back of your neck itch?"

"Just like that! You end it?" Alex could hear the confidence in Dean's voice, could sense the competence with which Dean approached his job. It intrigued him, and he found himself wanting to know how it would feel, if he let Dean fuck him.

Laughing, Dean glanced sideways at Alex again. "Yeah, just like that. Man, wish I had some coffee," he murmured to himself as he reached over to turn on the radio.

"I reckon I can handle anything you can. I'm not exactly a shrinking girl, but I'm interested in just how you end a ghost. You're not a priest in disguise, are you? If you are, it's a pretty damned good disguise!"

"We can debate the shrinking girl thing later," Dean said, with a smirk. "And, no, I'm not a priest. God, no!" Dean rolled his eyes. He had a feeling that he could be making the same mistake as he'd done with Cassie, but at least this guy wasn't slamming any doors in his face and yelling about how insane he was.

"There are different ways of killing ghosts. Depends on what kind of ghost it is. Most of them have patterns. They follow certain rules, you might say. Mostly, if it is a haunting, you find out who is doing it, then take a walk in the bone yard, dig 'em up and salt then burn the bones. Puts a spirit to rest. Frees them. Rock salt rounds will drive a spirit away, or at least have some kind of effect on them. As will rounds made with pure iron. Salt can also... protect you. Semi-circle around the doorway, and a little on the windows will keep spirits and demons out. So no just spilling the popcorn salt. That enough for you?"

Alex had definitely seen things that had opened him to extreme possibilities. He had no problems accepting what Dean was saying, but even so, he felt that it would be fun to taunt the handsome man sitting at his side.

"So you go round digging up bodies and setting them on fire? How come you haven't been arrested yet?" He smiled evilly. "Some people! Desecrating graves, tampering with human remains. I'm sure you'd be lynched, if the public became aware of that."

"I'm sure I would be, but as long as I don't get caught, I'm good. Besides, cops are lazy. You ever see the night time cops? They'd much rather sit in their cars than get out there preventing crime. Besides, who patrols cemeteries these days?" Dean tilted his head towards Alex, then back to the windshield, adding, "Most people don't report infringements, because I help them. And it's not like we leave an open grave. They do get covered back up."

"Wow! I'm glad to hear that," chuckled Alex. "Wouldn't want them to get cold or anything like that." He turned in his seat, facing Dean, studying the man as the Impala ate up the blacktop. He already knew that Dean was hot, but he hadn't really taken in the sheer competence, the ease and grace of his movements and the confident – not to say cocky – attitude. In so many ways, Dean reminded Alex of himself.

"So tell me about yourself, Dean. Who are you really? Where did you come from, and how did you ever find yourself ghost hunting? It's not what I'd called a mainstream occupation."

"You sure you want to know?" Dean asked, reaching down between Alex's legs to grab a cassette from his box of tapes, thinking how much he hated what was playing on the radio. Somehow he seemed to be beset by country music these days, and that just didn't do it for him. "Okay, how about we trade. I tell you something about me, and you tell me something equal to it. You don't agree, I'll just be known as the hot guy who drug your ass to Michigan."

He smirked at Alex. "I was born in Lawrence, Kansas. Your turn."

"Okay, fair's fair." Alex nodded. Dean was fascinating, and he'd play the game with him for a little while at least. His body tingled as he recalled their bout from the night before. Yes, definitely, he would play with Dean for the time being.

"Hmmm, let me see… I was born in Flushing Meadows, Queens – my parents were fugitives from the cold war. Your turn."

"Whoa, cold war huh?" Dean pulled into a MacDonald's. He had to have some coffee, "You want anything?" he asked as he waited in line at the drive-thru. "My mom died when I was four. Fire in the house. I had to carry my little brother out the front door, while my dad tried to save her." Dean got a slightly distant look upon his face. "I was supposed to play tee-ball the next day."

Dean ordered one of the meals, biscuit and coffee - a large one. He placed Alex's order and then drove around and reached for his wallet to pull out some cash.

"Thanks." Alex accepted his own coffee and the breakfast sandwich he'd requested. "I was a little older than you – I was ten. Me and my little sister were left orphaned when mom and dad were assassinated. I never did find out which organization did it. It might even have been the CIA, but anyway, they were gone, and we were suddenly stuck with people we didn't know to take care of us." He took a bite of his sandwich and nodded appreciatively. "I think I've still got hollow legs after being stuck in that hell hole for I don't know how long."

That was something they had in common to a degree. Dean had lost one parent, but for Alex it had been both. Dean didn't know what would have happened, if his dad had died too. He probably wouldn't have known Sam at all. They'd have been separated for life.

"I'm sure it took a lot out of ya," Dean answered. "Do you still talk to your sister?" He stole another peep at Alex as he took a bite of his sandwich, driving with his knee.

"Haven't seen her since I was twelve," confessed Alex, his mouth full of his own sandwich. "Sometimes I wonder what happened to her, but I think she's probably better off away from me." He gave Dean a crooked smile. "Okay, your turn."

Dean finished off his biscuit, so he could put his other hand back on the wheel. He could never have imagined being away from Sam, right up 'til the day when Sam had walked out of the door and gone off to college. Sam had always been there. Always around. It had been his job to keep his little brother safe.

"My father was the one who taught me about hunting supernatural things. The man is a genius when it comes to that." Dean stared out the window for a long moment, "Brother went off to college. Stanford," he blinked from his distant gaze to look toward Alex, "Wants to be a lawyer or something. Book smarts, that's him."

There was pain in Dean's eyes; Alex could see it plainly. He nodded to himself. There was something about the brother that had wounded his companion. He'd find out what it was – later - because it might just be useful. For now, however, he merely nodded.

"The short story is, I joined the LAPD, after I got my degree, and then went into the FBI. I was partnered with Mulder - told to spy on him and report his activities back to the higher ups. He found out, and I left."

"Guess that put a damper on your relationship then. Pisser." Dean took a sip of his coffee then sat the cup between his legs. "I've hunted a lot of things people can't explain. Things that go bump in the night. Got my first knife when I was five. First gun at eight."

Dean smirked suddenly, quirking his eyebrow at Alex, "So, this Mulder? You ever give him a blow job while he was driving. Because I somehow get the feeling he never let you drive."

"Fucking control freak," growled Alex, remembering Mulder's habits. "I drove once in a while, but you're right, most of the time I sat around reciting DOT stats to keep the idiot awake. He never got enough sleep."

He eyed Dean speculatively. "Why? You angling for a blow job? Not while you're driving, man. I hate it when people run me off the road. You want a blow job, pull over."

"Ouch," Dean made a face. In a way, he knew about control freaks. That description fit his father completely, always demanding perfection. Dean hadn't gotten to drive much when with his father, right up 'til Dad the day had given him the car. Now he'd got his own vehicle, because he was now doing his own gigs.

"Sleep is important. Keeps you healthy and sharp. Though I have gone a long time without it, always made up for it." He glanced over, pondering the rest. That look of his companion's was not as effective on him as the puppy-dog eye look, but it did give him pause.

Dean studied the road, wondered how much traffic was using it, before he pulled over. He turned the car off and placed his coffee on the dash. Turning to Alex he raised his eyebrows. "Question, was the guy just a good fuck, or was there another reason you hooked up with him?"

Now what were the implications of this sudden line of questioning, thought Alex, filing the question away for future analysis. Was the kid jealous of his ex? Let's see, he thought. "I wish I could show you a photo of him. When I was sent to be his partner, I just thought it was a short term gig - make friends with him, report back on what he was doing and then get transferred out to a real job. He was a total asshole too, and I was completely sideswiped by the fact that I suddenly couldn't keep my hands off him. We had a really torrid love affair that ended when I was outed as a spy for a faction of the government he hated. Since then, he's been kind of angry with me."

He chuckled to himself, wondering whether he should tell Dean what he'd done to finally earn Mulder's hatred and deciding that it would keep for now. "You know, I'm over him... and I give incredible blow jobs."

Dean turned back to the steering wheel. "I wouldn't know about love." He started the car back up, suddenly no longer wanting to fool around as that sick feeling welled up again. He certainly did know about being dumped. He was making little faces, staring blindly out of the window. "I'm sure you do." He put the car in drive, regretting he'd asked the question and wondering why the hell he had. Fuck, but he hated giving himself away like that!

"Love's over-rated. What is it but hormones, honestly?" Alex looked disappointed, but didn't say anything as they set off again. There would be time enough for blow jobs later, if they were going to go ghost wrangling. "It turns to hate really fast, and I think it's such a waste of honest emotion. Give me uncomplicated lust and a good buddy any day."

He stretched, leaning back in the seat and putting his hands behind his head so that his T-shirt stretched out over his torso. "I like you, Dean. You give me good vibes, man."

Dean didn't say anything to those words, he merely nodded, but deep inside, Dean had hungered for that kind of connection. From his father. From his brother. Neither had ever really come through for him, because his father was obsessed with this demon hunting, and his brother wanted a normal life, a safe life. Sam had left him, and Dean feared that, without Sam around, it was only a matter of time before his dad would as well.

He was convinced that it would come eventually with this man as well.

"Good vibes?" He didn't look up, but he could see Alex in his peripheral vision, catching the stretch and the reveal of skin just at the hem of his shirt. "Dude, what makes you say that?"

"Hey, I don't know - the way you keep your guns, the way you went straight into that place this morning, knowing that there was something in there that could do what it did to me, your whole attitude, man. You're hot, and not just in a sexual way." Alex studied Dean, wanting to run his tongue over the scattering of freckles on his cheeks. "Some people are just more alive than others, and I don't quite know how to explain it. You're one of those."

He laughed, wondering if he was coming on too strong, but damn, Dean's self esteem was in need of serious work, and while Alex didn't intend to marry the younger man or anything like that, he could see how intriguing it might be to work on Dean a little, try and strengthen his self regard. Besides, like he had just said, Dean was hot.

"Hot," Dean gave a chuckle and a snort while shaking his head. "Someone has a one track mind. Yeah, I'm alive alright. Just one big bundle of energy bouncing into danger without a second thought. Wanna know the truth? I was scared as all hell going in there. Possessions are not pretty, but a demon or whatever can easily possess you, if you let it. Mostly by showing fear. Nervousness. It's like opening a window. Makes it easier for them, so I can't let that show." He gave a shrug of his shoulders as if it was nothing.

"So how about some music then?" Alex said at last, breaking the silence that followed. "Got anything good?"

"Hand me that box between your legs under the seat. Got my tapes in it. And since I'm the driver, I get to pick, and shotgun shuts his pie hole," Dean grinned.

"Oh, getting toppy now, are we?" laughed Alex, digging under the seat for the box Dean had requested. He peered into it, looking through the contents with a smirk on his face. "Holy cow, are there moths in here? Looks like there's cobwebs, anyway."

Passing the box over to Dean with a smirk, he waited to see what his companion would choose. "You've still got your head stuck in the seventies, man. Hell, I bet you weren't even born when some of those tracks were recorded."

Dean reached in the box, pulling tapes out, until he found his favorite Metallica one. He dropped it in to the player and began tapping the wheel with his thumbs as the music began. "Nothing wrong with my collection. Better than the crap they have out now. Though Britney Spears isn't bad as long as the sound is off," he smirked.

Dean turned up the volume and began singing along as he grinned at Alex.

The drive continued. It was a while before Dean had to pull over to get some gas and stretch his legs. He climbed out, arching his back then bent over to stretch his legs. It was late in the evening, with the sun starting to set. "You wanna get us something to eat?" he asked, motioning towards the truck stop, while he walked around to fill up.

Dean had leaned against the back of his car, watching Alex as he walked inside. Damn but the man had this walk, and the way his ass moved was something Dean approved of, wholeheartedly. He found he wouldn't mind being behind that, and he had to admit, the man had a great mouth, kissed very well, and he gave a good fuck. Dean hadn't been fucked like that in a while.

He sighed, thinking about his family. He missed them. Missed his dad, being around him, watching him work, watching the way he put things together, the way he knew what to do. Then there was Sam, his brother. Little Sammy. He'd always been around and under foot, until he'd started getting older and more independent. Things had gone south from there, but they'd remained close, still together, right up until the day that Sam had left.

The truck stop had donuts and sandwiches, but nothing that looked particularly appetizing. Alex poked around looking for something more substantial, finding only plastic sandwiches and the kind of prepackaged burgers that one nuked in the microwave, viewing them with disgust. In the end he went with the burgers, grabbing a couple, adding cheese and ham sandwiches and a packet of chips to his purchases, and, by now having found out Dean's weakness, adding a couple of large coffees as well.

By the time he got back outside, Dean had finished filling the car and was removing the bug splatter of three counties from his windshield. "Here. They didn't actually have any food, but I got some empty calories for us."

Dean had pulled his phone out, going through the numbers he had stored, until he reached Sam's at Stanford. He'd stared at it for a long time, 'til he heard the thunk of the pump, telling him the car was full, then sighed and shoved the phone back into his pocket, taking the nozzle out and placing it back into the pump. He looked up as Alex came out. "Great," he commented, because he was used to food that contained no known nourishment. "Empty calories don't scare me."

Getting into the car, he smiled as he saw the coffee. "I think I'm in love," he said, smiling up at Alex, who was juggling his purchases as he clambered in himself.

"Damned straight!" Alex gave him a wicked grin as he sat back down beside Dean. "We need to stop for real food at some stage. I can't be held responsible for my moods, if I have to eat plastic burgers for the next week or so." He unwrapped one of the offending delicacies and sniffed it. "I wonder how many toxins and preservatives this thing contains."

Dean had pulled the car away from the pump to a parking area so they could eat. With the car in park, he was devouring his food. He turned to Alex, pondering his last few words. Alex had said a week or so. Did that mean the man planning on sticking around longer? That was interesting. "I try not to think about it."

Eating quickly and tidily, Alex watched Dean work his way through his own food. "I can't help noticing that you seem to have a bunch of things on your mind. Something I can help with?"

"Hmm?" Dean acted like he didn't understand. "Just thinking about the job. What other things could be causing those ships to crash? Could be just the weather, but who knows?" Yes he was avoiding the question. This man wasn't Sam, who could have just given him that look and pulled the whole story out of him - making him admit things he might never have intended to be known, although he had to admit that even with Sam, Dean found sharing confidences a struggle.

"You ever miss your sister? Talk to her. Try and contact her?" The question was out of the blue and Dean hoped it would divert the attention away from him.

"I did for the longest time." Alex scowled at the trees beside the parked Impala as he recalled the sister he hadn't seen for so many years. "She was a cute kid, and I missed her like I'd miss a limb or something, but with the way things fell out she's better off away from me. I do sometimes still think about her and wonder how she's doing, if she's married, with a family of her own, but I'm probably better not knowing."

Alex stole a sideways glance at Dean, wondering how much to tell him, how much he would believe. Almost, he could imagine recruiting Dean to help him fuck up Spender's plans.... almost. He remembered Irina, his little sister, and his last sight of her and her friend, Samantha Mulder. Best to believe he no longer had a sister.

He sighed. Better to stay silent until... Until what he had no idea. Dean would be fun to be with, and that was enough for the time being. "How about you? You said you had a brother? Older? Younger? He still around?"

"Brother," Dean nodded then sighed, "Younger brother." Dean stared out the window, "Alive, yes, around, no. Like I said before, he, umm, went off to college, he wants to be a lawyer, or something like that." Dean took a bite of his food. "Dad still checks on him though."

Dean glanced to Alex, "How come you don't talk to her, if you miss her. I mean doing what you do, why stay away from family? Family is important. It's all you will have left if... if everything falls apart."

"Dean, honey, everything fell apart for me years ago." Alex was smirking as he spoke, sure that Dean would have no clue just how dreadfully things could disintegrate. "Things started to go wrong for me when I was just a kid, and... anyway, I don't have a family. It's better that way."

He studied Dean, who was staring ahead impassively. "Anyway, if families are so important, how come you don't go visit the brother once in a while?"

Dean took a drink of his coffee, but almost choked upon it when Alex asked his question. "I..." He tried to sound macho, as if he didn't care, but failed miserably. He tried again, "He..." Dean stared at Alex then sighed, "He asked me to stay away. And if I call, he won't answer."

Dean shook his head, "Things are... not rosy in my family. I know our dad loves us. I know Sam..." Dean stopped. "We still care for each other. Can we talk about something else?"

"Oh, yeah, for sure." Alex crumpled the sandwich papers and stuffed them into a plastic shopping bag along with the rest of the debris from their makeshift meal. "What do you want to talk about?" He grabbed his own coffee and drank, sighing as the caffeine took effect. "Hit me with your best shot."

Dean shook his head as he turned back, "I don't know what to ask. I've, never been really much of a talker. That was Sam. And..." Dean glanced at him, considering, then quickly surged in and kissed him. He pulled back slowly, "Okay, so I lied about not being much of a talker." He grinned then sat back. "Ever have a girlfriend? Was she sexy?" He started the car back up again in preparation for hitting the road.

"Girlfriends are always sexy," smirked Alex, touching his lips with one slim forefinger, then reaching to caress Dean's lower lip with the same digit. "But I can't say that they really do that much for me. There was one - she was blonde and capable, and we were going to rule the world together. Can't say that I've seen her lately though. She's working for the World Trade Organization now, being important and way above my touch. I like to think that she missed a splendid opportunity when she walked away from me."

Dean wanted to lick that finger but he didn't, just stared at Alex's handsome face. He gave a rueful chuckle. "Rule the world? That never works out. And she probably did miss out. Good looking guys like us have to stick together; it's a fact!" He smirked as he put the car in gear.

Giving Alex a half smile, Dean grabbed his finger quickly as he was taking it away, pulling it to his mouth to suck on before releasing it with a smile. "Val, how did you get tangled up in all of that? Why would you want to take over the world?"

"You're right about us sticking together." Alex nodded, his eyes bright as he stared into the past. "Rita was one of those girls, you know? She wanted everything, and I thought I could give it to her and still have something left for myself, you know?" He sighed. "I told you that I was working for a government department that wanted to monitor what Mulder was doing, didn't I?" At Dean's nod, he continued. "Well, once Mulder fingered me, I was no longer any use to them, and they tried to rub me out. All of a sudden I was on my own, fending for myself, and that's when Rita decided that I wasn't a good prospect any longer." He laughed, but his laughter held more scorn than amusement. "She wasn't wrong, that's for sure."

"Ahh, yeah, the greedy type." Dean took another sip of his coffee. "Those women suck you dry, til there is no life left in you, then they toss you aside. Why I don't get close." He answered.

He glanced to Alex then frowned as he turned back, "You know, money, power, it's not everything. You show your worth by what you do, not by what you have. I mean, look at me. Driving around in a 67 Impala. Tracking down the supernatural. Trunk full of weird ass stuff. Living in motels and restaurants. Think that's a good prospect? No, but you know what? I don't give a damn. Because I know what I'm doing is right."

"Best not to get close," agreed Alex. "Let's agree that there's no future in it." He gave Dean a wide grin and indicated the Impala. "Besides, there's only room for one great love in your life, and if I had this car, I think I'd be content. It's quite the car, and you've obviously put a lot of work into it."

He nodded and patted the dash. "You should get yourself a decent stereo though. Some of your tapes are wearing out, and Metallica deserves better."

Dean wasn't going to mention that the car had been his dad's, given to him when dad got his truck. It wasn't a new truck, but still... Dad seemed to have a thing for the classics, and he seemed to like living in the past, dwelling on the time before he and Sam had been born, back when he first met mom.

"Yeah, well, kind of have to. It takes a beating at times, and I gotta have a car that looks as good as me." He smiled. "But there is nothing wrong with the stereo. My tapes play fine. The car deserves its original stereo."

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

Part 6: One Of Us Makes The Other One Come True

Light globes wash up, all along the beach.
And they light me up with, and they light me up with certainty.
Well we calculate, coincidence, and circumstance and turbulence.
Gotta see what it is, and it's everything, and it's endless.
'Cause baby can't see through, all this matter and makeup and dèjà vu.
Yeah we drift here alone, with nothing to do.
Until one of us makes the other one come true.
"Dèjà Vu," by Something for Kate

After the first few hours, the interior of the Impala became Alex Krycek's world, the scenery flashed by outside, ever changing but without any meaning, any context. Dean, and the music and the occasional stops to fuel up were all there was, and all he wanted. Alex became used to plastic burgers and synthetic cheese, lost himself in the joy of watching Dean eat, relishing each touch of tongue to lip, each sucked finger, and each stray crumb retrieved. He found himself fantasizing about that mouth of Dean's.

Dean kept driving till he hit the border of Michigan, heading for the shore line and following it towards Naubinway, the lake to the side of them as pointed the car towards their goal. The smell of water was heavy and cool, and they had rolled down the windows, so that they could enjoy the air.

They finally reached the edge of the town and pulled into a gas station. "I need to ask for directions" Dean announced, hopping out of the car and adding with a smirk, "Don't look now, it's a guy asking for directions! We need to find the docks." Reaching over, he pulled open the glove box and revealed a wooden box, starting to search through the ID's he had stashed. Once he found the one he was looking for, he grunted in satisfaction. "You wait here; I'll be back, unless you need to use the little boy's room."

"Nah, I'm good." Alex waved a languid hand at him and watched as Dean sauntered off into the store. He'd smiled some at the comment about asking for directions, and more at the thought of being with Dean for the next few days. The cocky young man was certainly special. Alex was beginning to think he'd fallen lucky when the whatever-it-was had abducted him.

Dean nodded as he headed into the store, spending a while inside talking to the clerk, laying on his usual charm for the lady behind the counter. His smile and his flirty behavior were, as usual, getting him just what he needed without too close a look at his ID. Finally, he nodded and took the paper from her on which she'd written the directions with a word or two of thanks and a cheeky smile.

Alex's interest had been piqued by the box that Dean had been rummaging through, and he pulled it across to take a peek. There were all manner of IDs in there, and every last one of them was an excellent forgery. Most were of Dean, but there was one of another man - one with sleepy eyes and a foxy, triangular face. The logo on the ID said, "Sam Winchester, Bikini Inspector."

Alex was still chuckling at that one when Dean returned.

Returning to the car, Dean peered in to see Alex chuckling, "What's so funny?" he asked, getting in. He saw his box sitting on Alex's lap and grabbed for it, placing it back in the glove box with a frown. "Not far from here, 15 minutes."

"Bikini Inspector?" Alex was still chuckling. "Do you have much success with that one?" He flipped the card over to Dean. "And I take it that this is the elusive brother. Sam, eh? A good, dependable name." He paused for a moment, watching Dean's reaction to his words, noting the spasm that crossed his face. His instincts were still good. The brother was the one that was causing his companion so much pain.