No One Mourns the Wicked

From left to right: Teen!Dean (young Jensen), Bridget (OFC, Character Model: Actress Arielle Kebbel with blonde hair), Paul and Dean about to kiss, Young Sam (young Jared), and Billy Loomis

No One Mourns the Wicked
A Miracles/Supernatural Cross-over
by Laurel (Sailorhathor)

See Chapter 1 for all Warnings and Author's Notes.

Rating: Adult17+
Chapters: 6 of 15 (4,203 words this part)

Chapter 6: Tales from the Darkside

        Alva was coming back to the table. Thoughts of that period in Woodsboro lingered in Dean's mind a few moments longer, his chin resting on his folded hand. None of it would have been possible if it hadn't been for the stability John had provided by working one of the longest cases of his career. He kept his kids in one place for almost a year. Because of that, Dean had allowed himself the luxury of friends, and then the comfort of regular lovers, and finally, the time to explore. Sometimes Dean wondered if caring for anyone was a good idea. In this case, he hadn't been able to help it.

        It was happening all over again. Dean no longer had the stability of a regular place to live, but he still couldn't help caring. He looked up when Alva spoke to him, saying the name of that person that Dean couldn't keep himself from caring for.

        "Paul wants us to come to his apartment," Alva said. "To talk about the empathy."

        Nodding, Dean grabbed the bill.


        On their way to Paul's apartment, Dean's mind wasn't 100% on his driving; he remembered how the night after this first group romp with Bridget and Billy, he had shut himself up in his room and brooded over all the weird feelings he'd experienced during the encounter. The way he wanted to touch Billy's hand, and how much he liked Billy touching him... and Billy's lips... there was no one to talk to about it. No one in his father's world, that's for sure. Dean remembered how Sam had banged on his door, wanting to show him how his science project was coming along, and he had finally relented to get his mind off all those weird feelings he just couldn't understand.

        "On the way home from school today, some high school kids were hassling me and Ricky," Sam started, fumbling with the bag of wooden beads that would be a part of his DNA model.

        "Ricky's in the Science Club?" As they spoke, Dean began building something pointless with the pieces Sam hadn't used yet.

        "Yeah. You know, my school's only a few blocks from yours, so some of the high school kids take the same route that I do."

        "Only the losers without cars, yeah," Dean chuckled.

        Smirking, Sam remarked, "You used to be one of those losers."

        "Shut up, Poindexter. Used to be. Yooooused. To. Be." Dean pegged a wooden dowel at his brother's head.

        It bounced off Sam's forehead. "Ow," he said under his breath, rubbing it.

        Dean snickered.

        "Anyway, these kids said you and Billy screwed some girl right there at school. Like, in the lunchroom." Sam's face scrunched up in distaste.

        Clucking his tongue, Dean replied, "It wasn't in the lunchroom. No one saw us. Well, actually..."

        Sam's mouth popped open. "Then it's true?!"

        Dean, putting on his best devil-may-care attitude, shrugged his shoulders as if to say it was no big deal. "Yeah, whatever. The girl can't get enough of us."

        "You... and Billy? At the same time?"


        "But... how...?"

        Dean picked up some of the extra DNA pieces. "You want me to build you a model?"

        Sam swatted them out of Dean's hand. "That's so gross."

        "Oh, come on, Sammy. You'll be twelve in a few months." Dean leaned in, speaking in a conspiratorial whisper. "You haven't thought of this stuff before?"

        Obviously embarrassed, Sam looked down at the bed on which they sat. "Yeah, I've thought of it." He looked up. "But not that."

        Dean acted as if he was offended. "Don't knock it 'til you try it."

        "You're such a doof. I can't believe any girl would let you do that."

        "You'll think of it differently when you get a little older."

        "I doubt it." Sam scowled in disgust.

        Rolling his eyes, Dean tossed another dowel at him. "Not all girls are delicate wallflowers, you know. They're not all your type." He threw another one. "Surely you can understand that."

        Sam grabbed one of Dean's pillows. "Yeah, I can," he began with a laugh. "And don't call me Shirley," Sam finished, and hit Dean with the pillow.

        Dean chuckled at the memory.

        From the passenger seat, Alva looked over at him. "What?"

        "Nothin'. Just a good memory."

        "Oh." They drove on in silence until Alva spoke again. "Did your relationship with Miss Bishop continue?"

        Holding back a snicker, Dean replied, "I'll say." Then he laughed anyway.

        Alva looked at him, expecting more, but settled back in his seat when the other man didn't yet offer anymore details.

        Dean then realized he needed to tell Keel a little more about his relationship with his teenage cohorts. It would figure into later events. "Bridget's issues with her family made her kinda... loose," Dean finally said.

        "Like your birthday present," Alva commented, nodding.

        Dean was glad that Keel's voice didn't hold any judgment; he wasn't in the mood to defend his own teenage promiscuity either, especially not to him. "Yeah. So, she spent a lot of time with both Billy and me over the next few months. I wouldn't really call her a girlfriend... Billy and I kind of... shared her?"

        After a pause, his eyebrows raised, Alva said, "I see."

        Ah, there was the judgment. Dean knew nothing of Keel's sex life, but he thought the man didn't totally approve for whatever reason. "You know, some people have issues that keep them from having normal, vanilla relationships. It doesn't mean they aren't people. Doesn't mean that they're worthless. And it certainly doesn't mean they don't have feelings and goals and all that crap."

        "Of course, I understand. You're right about that."

        Well, he sounded like he meant it... "You're a hard guy to read sometimes, you know that?"

        Alva let out a chuckle, eyes twinkling. "So I've been told."

        "Anyway..." After a pause to give Alva one more perplexed look, Dean continued his story. "...they started sneaking into my room through the window at night. Not every night, but often." The memory that had replayed itself in Dean's dream came back to him once again, except this time, with mental pictures.

        "Are you entertaining guests tonight, Mr. Winchester?"

        Bridget giggling, wearing a fluffy pink sweater.

        The first time the two of them had shown up at Dean's window, it had taken him completely by surprise. John was home, but asleep, so he had constantly shushed them, although he made a few disruptive noises of his own. The truth was, Dean wanted this, he wanted this very much. He knew what they were there for.

        "I'm guessing your friends weren't sneaking in your window to play card games," Alva interjected with a smirk.

        "Nope. Just to play," Dean replied. "You remember what it was like to be a teenager. Don't you?"

        "I most certainly do." Recalling something Dean had just said, Alva asked, "Did you ever do it in reverse?"

        Dean's brow furrowed; was Keel really asking him...? "Uh, what sexual position is that?"

        A pause and Alva began to chuckle quite loudly. "No, no, I meant..." He started chuckling again.


        "I meant did you and Bridget ever sneak into Billy's room at night?"

        "Oh!" Unable to help it, Dean laughed too. "Um, sometimes. Although, Billy was on the second floor, so we'd throw rocks at his window until he came down and let us in. We used the game room."

        "Billy must've been pretty popular with that room," Alva mused.

        "Well, it was all part of his manipulation game."

        Considering that, Alva said, "Are you sure that's all it was? You don't think he cared at all about either of you?"

        Dean now became silent, thinking it over.

        He remembered how soft that pink sweater was, how much he liked running his hands over it as Bridget lay next to him. Billy's hands, pulling his shirt off over his head. Was that weird, that Billy did it? What did Bridge think of that? She didn't react. The way the sweater felt against his chest, it's so soft. Dean was almost sorry she had to take it off... almost sorry. Laying in his bed, the three of them almost didn't fit. Heat and bodies, pressed so close together, kissing and caressing and hands running over bare skin, and how many times did Dean feel Billy's hand briefly stroke his side or run dangerously close to his behind as they focused their attention on the girl lying between them? How much did he like the exchanges of oral sex with Bridget while the other boy slowly stroked himself down beside them, just staring into Billy's heated eyes and listening to him moan quietly?

        But Dean also remembers the nightmare he'd had for weeks following December 19, 1996, a nightmare that still comes to him sometimes. The foyer of Stu's house, littered with bodies. Some stabbed, some shot, all covered with blood. Billy, lying dead on the floor with a bullet in his head. And Sidney Prescott, standing in the middle of it all with tears running down her face, her shirt stained red. Because her hair is black, the blood in her hair looks like blackberry jam. It sticks together in clumps on the side where Billy stabbed her in the shoulder.

        As Dean comes into the house, she points the gun at him. She who was innocent, ignorant of every bit of Billy's deceit, she who shouldn't have had to be the one to end this.

        Sidney points the gun at Dean and sobs, "Why didn't you warn me?"

        "Man, I..." Dean sighed, not knowing how to answer Keel's question. "I just don't know."


        The first thing Dean saw when he entered Paul's apartment was Paul sunk down into the couch, not wearing a shirt, with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. His hair a little messy, he looked hung over. But he managed to smile when Alva and Dean entered.

        The first thing Paul saw when they entered was that gentle, concerned smile Dean seemed to reserve only for him and his little brother, Sammy. Keel looked concerned as well, but also ready to experiment with these new empathic abilities Paul had discovered; he'd seen that inquisitive look in Keel's eyes before.

        Sam sat in the armchair nearby and Evie was leaning on the arm of the couch, occasionally running her fingers through the dark strands at Paul's hairline. "He's feeling a lot better," she said.

        "The coffee helped," added Paul, and let out a little laugh.

        "That's good," Alva said. He sounded genuinely relieved.

        Alva beat Dean to the couch, taking the seat to Paul's left. Dean leaned against the arm of the chair in which his brother sat. "Mr. Winchester says you performed a new form of empathy."

        Nodding, Paul described for Alva what he had done.

        "You could see what Samuel was observing in his vision?"


        "And interact with each other," Sam interjected.

        "That's amazing. Just by touching him."

        Paul nodded again.

        "Now, don't quote me on this, because I'd have to consult Lassiter's book to be sure, but I think there's a name for this." Thinking, Alva laid a finger against his lips.

        "Lassiter McNeal?"

        "Yes. His wife could do this too, touch others and see what they were thinking. I seem to recall that the mental pictures were dull in people with very little manifested psychic ability, and she could not communicate with their thoughts." Alva leaned forward and put his hands together, tapping his fingertips against each other. "But when she touched other psychics..."

        "The mental pictures were vibrant, and she could talk to them in their heads too," finished Paul.

        Now Alva nodded. "They called this ability osmotic clairvoyance. Clairvoyant visions passed from a person to a psychic, or from one psychic to another, through touch."

        "Osmosis..." Paul said to himself. "I absorbed it through skin contact." They all fell silent for a moment, taking it in. "Do you think Diane McNeal passed this ability to me as well?"

        Surprisingly, Alva shook his head. "I've done some reading. I'm starting to think that Diane didn't pass any abilities to you at all."

        Paul looked confused.

        "What I think she actually did was awaken abilities she could see you already had."

        Everyone "ohhhh"ed and nodded their heads. "That makes sense," said Dean.

        "Abilities like her own," Alva finished.

        "But, when Diane touched me," Paul began, pointing to his forehead, "she said, 'Abilities like mine shouldn't be put to waste in the grave. I pass it on to you.' And then a surge of energy ran through me."

        "Well, perhaps once you feel better, we should try to contact her, and test my theory. It's just not something we think of as possible, Paul - passing psychic abilities from one person to another. Not that way." Alva shrugged. "Awakening your own natural abilities, now that's more likely."

        Remembering what happened with Max Miller, Sam questioned, "If Paul had somehow absorbed this woman's abilities through a, a power he had, if you will, then it would probably have worn off by now, huh?"

        "I would think so. Paul's contact with Diane McNeal happened in 2003. Those sorts of things are usually temporary." Alva turned toward Paul. "This other thing that you did, taking on Samuel's pain... we're going to work on getting better control of that. It could be very useful, don't you think?"

        Paul's enthusiastic nod in response showed he wanted to work on this as much as Alva did.

        Dean opened his mouth to add a comment about Paul's safety, but Alva finished his thought before he could speak. "It'll be better for you, like exercising a muscle. If you don't use any part of your body, it can become weak, and when you try to put it to work, it will cause you pain."

        "Yeah. Like when you exercise and get sore muscles."

        "Yes. But the more you work, those sore muscles become better. Stronger."

        "So this would be kind of like working Paul's brain," Dean interjected. "Or, wherever his powers come from."


        "And he would experience less pain. Be able to handle it better. Get more control."

        Alva nodded. "Yes."

        "What about me? Is this something I could do?" Sam suddenly asked. "I certainly don't enjoy getting a monster headache anytime these visions decide to hit me."

        "Well... maybe, Samuel. I don't have much experience with your personal abilities yet, so it's hard to say. But we can experiment. Make the SQ office into a sort of lab," Alva replied, adding a little grin.

        Dean wondered how they were going to accomplish this. He and Sam hadn't been able to find a way to control Sam's visions at all so far; they just happened. To himself, Dean did hope that allying themselves with Keel would help Sammy, would help end his baby brother's suffering and confusion over what was happening.

        Their work with the supernatural hadn't touched them this close to home before, not since the death of their mother.

        Evie checked her watch. "I've got to go pick up Matty at school."

        "Why don't we come with you?" Alva indicated Sam and himself. "Samuel can tell me about the vision he had in detail, and we can go get Matty's new rocket car at the same time."

        "Oh, so you remember promising to buy him one for helping you put in that closet organizer?"

        Alva feigned offense. "Of course I do. What do you take me for?"

        A little grin crossed Sam's face. He didn't seem to mind coming with them at all. "Sure, I'll come."

        As Alva got up and Evie headed for the door, Dean took his chance to move to the couch. "I'll stay here and look after Paul. I've got to catch him up on what I've been telling you about Billy."

        Sam reacted to that, biting at his bottom lip. "Ah, yeah." How would Paul react when he saw Billy Loomis?

        Once they were out the door, Dean leaned toward Paul to give him a little kiss, but Paul was still looking at the closed door, grinning. "Your brother kinda likes Evie. I could feel it when he looks at her."

        Dean leaned back against the couch. "Great. Now I'm going to be sick."

        Rolling his eyes, Paul moved closer to Dean and lightly kissed his mouth. "What else did you want to tell me about Billy?"

        Dean let out a long sigh. "Where do I start?"

        He told Paul everything he'd already told Alva, although this time, he didn't leave out the sexual and romantic detail about how much he had wanted Billy, how their activities with Bridget were just a catalyst for what they also wanted to do with each other. "It was really confusing for me, you know? I'd never felt that way about a guy before."

        "I can imagine." Paul had his fingers in Dean's hair, softly stroking the side of his head.

        "Billy and I had been messing around with Bridge for a little under two months when something... something happened between just the two of us for the first time. That night, Billy went out with Stu and he wouldn't let anyone else come along. I went to the movies with Bridget. My dad insisted I take Sammy along 'cause he was going to be out all night on surveillance."

        "The Chaos cult."

        "Right. And somehow, Randy wangled his way into coming. I didn't mind or anything, I just didn't know him as well as the others. I asked him why Billy wanted to go out with just Stu and no one else could come, and he said that Stu was like that sometimes. He could be a jealous friend, Randy said." Looking troubled at the memory, Dean stared at Paul's other hand, thinking of how much it resembled Billy's hands, even with the age difference between them. "There were things there not even Randy knew."

        "What movie did you guys see?" Paul asked.

        Dean suddenly looked at him, at his face, and chuckled at how curious he was. "Why do you want to know that?"

        "I didn't know you when you were a teenager. It's, I don't know, fun to hear what you were like back then."

        Dean smiled, leaning over to kiss Paul's lips before continuing. "We saw a double feature of Creepshow and Creepshow 2. Billy's mom actually gave us all a ride to the movie theatre. I don't remember why; I mean, several of us had cars. She somehow wormed her way in. We went one way and Billy and Stu went another..."


        There was something about squeezing seven people in a car simply not built to hold that many people that teenagers found appealing. Dean, Sam, Bridget, and Randy piled into the back seat and Stu pulled Billy into the front with him while Mrs. Loomis drove. The entire way to the movie theatre, everyone laughed and joked and shoved playfully at one another when an elbow ventured too far into someone's ribs or someone accidentally stepped on someone else's foot. Although he was bothered by the way Stu kept turning to glare at him without a word, Dean joined in on the horseplay as well.

        The expression on Sam's face made it seem as if he had stars in his eyes; Dean mused that this must be a big thing for him, hanging out with all these older kids. Sam kept awkwardly glancing at Bridget's low-cut top when she wasn't looking and laughing at Randy's impressions of Jerry Lewis.

        "Hey, laaaady!" Randy cried, sending Sam and Bridget into renewed giggles. "You're going to pass the theatre, nice driving lady person."

        "I know where it is, Randy. It's right up here," Mrs. Loomis replied.

        "Who is this Randy? My name is JERRY, he-LLOOOO!"

        Billy plugged his ears with his fingers. "Yeah, we're in a car, Randy. I'm deaf now."

        Stu reached over the seat and punched Randy's arm. They play-wrestled while Mrs. Loomis tried to drive the car into the parking lot.

        "What are you kids seeing?" she asked, ignoring the bouncing of the car.

        "Stu wants to see Heavy Metal," Billy said.

        "And we're going to see a double feature of Creepshow and Creepshow 2," Dean added. "Are you sure you want to miss that, Billy? This is the last weekend."

        Billy shrugged, tilting his head toward Stu to indicate that he was just doing it to please his other friend. Or shut up Stu's whining, as Dean liked to think of it.

        "They won't let you kids into movies like that. They're all rated R," Mrs. Loomis said with a laugh.

        "It's okay Mom, I know a guy at the theatre."

        "Oh," was her only reply.

        When they piled out of the car, the kids from the backseat almost falling all over each other and laughing about it, Billy leaned down to the passenger window and gave his mother a parting comment. Imitating a character from Creepshow 2, he said in a monstrous voice, "Thanks for the ride, lady!"

        Although it was obvious that Mrs. Loomis didn't get it by the confused look on her face, she still laughed. "Oh, okay! You're welcome, honey. You kids have a great time!"

        They snickered as she drove away.

        Dean nudged Billy's elbow. "See? You wanna watch the double feature with us."

        "Yeah, come on guys, let's all go see the same movie."

        Stu shook his head. "Nuh-uh, I wanna see Heavy Metal, and Billy already said yes. You snooze, you lose."

        Shrugging again, Billy allowed himself to be lead off. "We'll meet up later, okay?" he said, and walked off with his hands in his pockets.

        "Oh, screw them. I don't like seeing movies with Stu anyway. He's so loud." Bridget put an arm around Sam's shoulders. His eyes widened and he ducked his head. "We're going to see two movies for the price of one, while they see only one movie. I think that puts us ahead, don't you Sam?"

        He raised his head, smiling. "I definitely do."

        Dean ruffled his brother's hair.

        As they headed for the theatre, Randy suddenly said, "Wait, how are we gonna get in? Billy knows the guy."

        Dean took out his fake ID. "Didn't you know I'm 19?"

        The attendant at the box office window didn't question Randy and Bridget's ages, but he did make Dean show his ID to prove he was old enough to get Sam in. The teens had a great time making fun of the cheesier parts of the double feature. Randy got the biggest laugh of the night when he tapped Sam on the shoulder during Creepshow at the point where the ape monster jumped out of the crate. He topped it off by yelling, "RAAAAH!" at the same time. Sam jumped and grabbed Bridget's thigh, causing her to scream and throw popcorn all over everyone. Though a little embarrassed, even Sam had to laugh, his hand to his mouth.

        The kids waited for Billy and Stu after the movies, but they never showed up. Billy's friend from the theatre came out half an hour later. "Oh, I saw them leaving. Stu said they were going to his house."

        "Those jerks. We might as well walk home," Randy said, rolling his eyes.

        "We walk Bridget home first."

        "Thank you, kind sir," she responded. "I always feel safe when I have lots of big, strapping men to walk me home."

        Deliberately contradicting her statement, Dean came at her with his hands out as if he was going to choke her. "I want my cake!" he rasped, imitating a ghostly corpse from Creepshow. "I want my Father's Day cake!"

        She squealed, backing away from him. Dean picked Bridget up and put her over his shoulder, spinning her around a few times to make her scream and laugh before putting her down.

        On the way, Randy began talking about a TV show he liked. "I saw the funniest show on Mtv the other night; I think it was called 'The State'?"

        "Oh, I've seen that. Sometimes they're kinda funny."

        "Kinda funny? You don't know comedy, man. They did this skit where they were running down the street, pretending to be 18-wheelers and cars and stuff." Randy put his arms out in front of him and curled his hands like he was holding a steering wheel. "Hooonk hooonk!" he hollered, and steered into Bridget, bumping her.

        She became a hot little sports car. "Beep beep!" she said, pressing her invisible horn, and slammed into Randy hard.

        Grinning, Dean turned into the Impala. "Vrrrrrrummmm, vrrrummmm!" He bumped into Bridget too.

        The kids began running down the street, chortling and giggling and slamming into each other. Dean snatched up Sam and threw him over his shoulder. Sam laughed loudly, kicking his legs. "Picking up a passenger!" Dean announced.

        "Road hog! HOOOONK HOOOONK!"

        "Beep beep!"


        "I think you need some work under the hood, sir!" Sam started beating his fists on Dean's behind.

        They ran down the street like that for at least a quarter of a mile, just one fender bender after another.

Notes: I made up the term osmotic clairvoyance.


Chapter 7: Fatal Attraction

Chapters: 7 of 15 (4,307 words this part)

        Paul was laughing. "It sounds like you had a lot of fun."

        His eyes twinkling with the memory, Dean chuckled and nodded. "I do have some very good memories of that time in my life. It's not all doom and gloom, you know?"

        "You said this was the night you and Billy...?"

        Dean's mood changed almost instantly, to one of seriousness. "I dumped Sam off at home and he could tell there was something bothering me. So he said he'd be okay by himself if I wanted to go back out. I snuck off to Stu's house..."

        Although he should have expected this, Paul still looked momentarily surprised. "You were jealous."

        "I wanted to know what they were doing. Why couldn't the rest of us come? I snuck around the house like a burglar and looked in all the windows. Most of the house was dark, but I came to this one room that had a little light on, and... I saw Billy on the couch with Stu... between his legs... sucking him off." Dean still seemed dejected over the memory, even though it had been over ten years since it happened.

        "Ouch. It bothered you, huh?"

        "Yeah. It was really confusing, how jealous I got. I didn't want Billy to enjoy himself that much with anyone but me and maybe Bridge. His eyes were closed most of the time, but shortly after I came to the window, Billy lifted his head and stared right at me, like he could see me. The room was too dimly lit for me to tell for sure..."

        "But he did," Paul confirmed.

        "Yes. Billy saw me. A couple hours later, he came over to explain..."


        It had taken Dean an hour to wear his brother down enough to get him to sleep, Sam was so keyed up from the movies and the fun experience he'd had hanging out with the older kids. Once alone, Dean stripped down to his underwear and laid on top of his covers in the dark, staring at the ceiling. He couldn't get it out of his mind. Billy... not only did he like guys, but he was doing that stuff with Stu. Yuck.

        There eventually came a knock at his window. Dean got up. He already knew it was Billy. Who else would it be, unless Bridge had snuck out...

        No, it was Billy.

        Dean tried to hide his angry jealousy. "Hey," he said as he raised the window.

        Billy climbed in. "Hey Dean."

        They looked at each other in the light coming in through the window, from a streetlight on the corner. "You guys ditched us after the movie."

        "Yeah, I'm sorry. I wanted to explain." Billy stayed on his feet, but Dean sat on the edge of his bed. "Stu can be like that sometimes. He wants me all to himself."

        Pausing for an uncomfortable amount of time, Dean finally said, "I could see that," and looked down at the floor.

        Billy stepped a little closer. "So you did see us. At Stu's house."

        Dean just nodded. They didn't say anything for nearly ten seconds, which was a long time in such a conversation.

        "Why were you sneaking around Stu's house anyway?"

        Not because I was jealous! Dean almost snapped, but caught himself. "Because I... I wanted to know..." Finally, he sighed. "I don't know."

        Billy leaned down, trying to catch Dean's eye. "Was it because you were jealous?"

        Dean instantly looked up, but seeing Billy staring at him, looked away again. "What do you mean? Why would I be jealous?" Before Billy could say anything else, Dean launched into the most important question, at least to him. "So, are you bi? Are you and Stu, like... together?"

        "No, Stu and I are not together." Billy put 'together' in air quotes. "And about being bi... I don't know. It's not like I go out searching for guys to fool around with. I don't do anything else with Stu. I've never sucked his dick. I've never even kissed him."

        "You just let him suck your dick."

        "Yeah. Why not? I mean, it feels good."

        "Yuck." Dean wanted to wrap his pillow around his ears.

        "I know you and Stu don't like each other, and I know why he doesn't like you, but why are you so antagonistic with him?" Billy asked.

        "'Cause he's a jerk to me. And a loud-mouth." Dean paused, realizing what Billy had said. "Why doesn't Stu like me?"

        Crouching down in front of him, Billy lightly touched Dean's knees. "Because he sees you as his competition."

        The soft, warm tone of Billy's voice sent a tingle up Dean's spine. He went a little numb, though, when Billy moved his face closer to Dean's and gave him a small kiss.


        When he heard that, Paul also tentatively touched Dean's knee. He didn't think or realize that it would allow him to see Dean's memory, especially not that vividly.


        Dean accepted the kiss at first. How badly he'd been wanting to do this, for weeks and weeks, how much he'd fantasized about it while Billy masturbated in front of him. Billy's lips were soft and warm, and his cock instantly began to respond.

        When Dean felt Billy's hand go to the back of his head and the kiss begin to grow deeper, he pushed Billy away. "No, wait..."

        Their lips were mere centimeters apart as Billy tried to talk him into it. "I've seen you watching me when I jack off. You and Bridget are fun to watch, but I long to touch you, Dean." One hand caressed the underside of Dean's thigh. "I don't want to suck Stu off because it's you I want to do that to. I won't dirty my mouth with him; I want you." Billy kissed Dean again, harder this time.

        "No, come on, wait... wait..."

        "Are you telling me you don't want this?"

        "Uh... I... I've never..."

        Billy stroked Dean's thigh, trying to get a hand under his backside. "It's okay. Just do what your body wants."

        "But I'm not... I mean, I've never..."

        "It's okay. I won't make you do anything you don't want to." Billy started kissing Dean again, easing him back onto the bed.

        "But, what do you want to do?" Dean asked between kisses. He wasn't exactly stopping Billy, was he? It felt so good, he wanted to, Jesus, why did he want to?

        "Rub on you. Kiss you. Will you let me suck you off? You don't have to do it back if you don't wanna." Billy was whispering now, hot breath on Dean's lips. "It can just be experimentation. Doesn't have to be anymore than that."

        Dean slowly realized between the shockwaves moving from his crotch to his brain that Billy had laid him back and wedged himself between his legs, lying on top of him. As he kissed Dean's neck, Billy began to rub his crotch against Dean's, slowly and methodically at first.

        Dean couldn't help it; he moaned out loud. He could feel Billy's hands working under him. Billy's lips on his neck and ear were shorting out his brain, and he did nothing to stop it when Billy eased down his underwear in the back and squeezed his ass. Billy was getting hard too, he could feel it. Dean wasn't even sure how he knew what a hard cock would feel like when it was rubbed against his, but somehow, he knew that's what he was feeling. Instinct. It had to be instinct.

        The denim of Billy's jeans, that stiff fabric, and Dean wearing nothing but underwear, which was coming off... the feeling drove him crazy. His hands moved before he even knew what they were doing and he realized he had handfuls of Billy's ass, squeezing it, pressing him down. This time, they moaned together.

        And then they were rubbing against each other and kissing, deep, hungry kisses. Dean felt his underwear come down; the denim and the zipper of Billy's jeans were biting into his bare skin. He threw his head back, moaning and hissing.

        Billy moved down his chest. Dean couldn't believe this was happening. Then his cock was surrounded by warm, wet heat as Billy took him into his mouth and slowly moved all the way down, taking Dean in to the hilt.

        Dean made a strangled moaning sound.


        "It couldn't have been more than a minute before I came in his mouth," Dean mused, shaking his head at the memory. "He got me so keyed up, I just couldn't help it. Then we laid there across my bed and just kissed for a while. I offered to beat him off and he let me, gladly. I just couldn't... return the favor, if you know what I mean. I wasn't ready. I was already freaking out... what would Sam say if he found out? What would my dad say?"

        Because he hadn't said anything yet, Dean looked at Paul. Paul's eyes were unfocused, looking at something in his mind's eye. Then he stared at Dean with wide eyes and abruptly took his hand off his knee. Paul let out a loud breath he'd been holding, blinking rapidly, trying to clear his head.

        "Paul, what's wrong? You're acting like you had a vision or something."

        "I saw it," Paul began. "I touched you and I saw your memory."

        "What? But I'm not psychic." Dean tried to fathom what had just happened. "Was it all dull and colorless?"

        "It was different from what I saw when I touched Sam, but... it was not dull and colorless." Paul huffed out a heavy breath. "I could feel everything."

        Looking down at his knee, Dean pointed out, "You were touching me through clothes. It wasn't even skin-to-skin contact. Wow... your abilities are strong."

        Dean clapped Paul on the shoulder near the end of his sentence. He jumped as if Dean had shocked him, making a similar noise to the one young Dean had made when Billy's mouth first took him in. The noise startled Dean. "I'm sorry, I'm just... having trouble disconnecting."

        "It made you..." Dean couldn't help but grin. "The memory turned you on."

        Nodding, Paul repeated, "I could feel everything."

        "Hmmm..." Dean moved a little closer to him.

        Paul put a hand on his chest to hold Dean at arm's length. "Wait."


        "The memory I saw... it was dark in your room, but I thought..." Confusion and doubt overtook Paul's face, furrowing his eyebrows and sharpening his gaze. "Were you imagining that Billy looked like me?"

        Oh... "Uh... Paul, I hadn't... hadn't gotten a chance to tell you that yet... but I was getting to it."

        "Tell me what?" Before Dean could say anymore, Paul asked, "Did Billy look like me?"

        Dean cringed at the very thought of this conversation, but he did nod and say, "Yeah. Billy looked like you. Younger you, but you could see the resemblance."

        "This kid... this... mass murderer... looked just like me?" Paul, his elbows on his knees, hovered his hands before his face. "Why?"

        "I have a theory about that." Dean tentatively touched Paul's shoulder again. When he didn't jump, Dean began to massage the back of his neck.

        "But, how could you ever explain it?" Paul lowered his face into those waiting hands. "It makes no sense."

        "Maybe it does." Knowing no other way to do it, Dean launched into his theory about Paul and the Inner Circle. "For some reason, you've all been made from the same mold, if you want to call it that. You all look alike."

        Paul was shaking his head. "This is crazy."

        "Isn't any more crazy than anything else we deal with."

        He finally looked up at Dean. "You're saying that there are more of them out there? More guys running around, who look just like me?"

        "I think so."

        Paul folded his hands together, inserting the tips of his thumbs between his lips, just leaning on them and rocking himself, thinking.

        "If they're not all dead already," Dean added.

        Paul sighed around his thumbs, closing his eyes.

        Dean renewed his neck massage. He wanted nothing more than to calm Paul down. "I know this is weird. I know I'd be freaking out too if I was told there were a bunch of guys running around out there who look just like me. But we'll figure this out, okay? We'll figure it out together."

        Although he was quiet a moment longer, Paul finally drew himself out of his startled shell and smiled at Dean. "I know. I know we will."

        "Paul, ah... I know this may not be the best time to ask, but... you said you could feel everything in my memory. Right?"

        "Uh huh."

        "Could you feel Billy's emotions too?"

        Nodding, he replied, "Yes."

        "Wow, that's amazing. Uh... how did Billy feel? I mean, when he seduced me, was he... was he just trying to manipulate me into doing what he wanted, or did he, you know... did he care about me?"

        A little taken aback, Paul just looked at Dean for a moment. Then he took Dean in his arms and hugged him close. "Oh, Dean, no. No no no, don't hurt like that." Paul stroked his hair.

        Dean hadn't expected that reaction. This was all so new; sometimes he forgot Paul was an empath. He leaned into the embrace. A part of him wanted to cry, finally having said it. Why did he want to cry?

        Paul drew back and began to kiss Dean on the mouth, small, loving kisses. "Don't ever think such things. He cared about you. I think he may have even loved you. But he was scared, so scared, Dean. Billy may have seemed confident that night, but he was afraid. And when you responded to his advances, he was relieved."

        They sat on the couch with their foreheads pressed together, sharing occasional kisses while they spoke. "It's just hard, you know, to separate the Billy I knew intimately from the Billy who stabbed people to death. He could be so angry. I don't even know why I care. Paul, why do I care? Why does it matter to me if a murderer loved me or not?"

        "Because it hurts to think that your first, that someone you loved, was just using you, that they were pretending to care for you. Dean, the fact that Billy did those horrible things doesn't have to change how you felt about him. You knew his vulnerable side. You saw the frightened boy behind the crimes, hm?"

        Dean just nodded.

        "You don't have to feel guilty over loving him. You don't have to hate the Billy you knew. Sometimes, people spiral out of control and we do everything we can to save them, but it doesn't work out." Paul hugged Dean to him again. "Emotions can't be turned off like flipping a switch. You don't have to feel bad because you cared for him. Not with me."

        They sat like that for a while, holding each other, and Dean realized how much he liked this, how much he needed this kind of intimacy, and he wondered if it was a good idea to allow himself to get used to it, with the lifestyle he lead. He couldn't deny it to himself, not while he was holding Paul in his arms - he couldn't deny that he was falling in love with Paul Callan. A part of him never wanted this to end.

        "No, you're right," Dean said. "You can't turn off your emotions like flipping a switch." He kissed Paul on the lips again. "Even when it might be better for you both."


        When the mood passed, Dean and Paul released their embrace and Dean continued his story. "Billy started climbing in my window as often as he could and we would make out for a couple hours. Half the time, he brought Bridget. That was really awkward for a while."

        "Because of what you and Billy had been doing alone."

        "Yeah. About the fourth time he brought her, something was different. She looked at us like a hungry tiger would look at a couple of gazelle. All wide-eyed and curious, ready to try new things." The awkwardness from the memory crept into Dean's posture; he visibly cringed. "On the way to my house, Billy had told her."

        "Oh wow. I bet you thought Bridget would run away and tell the whole school, huh?"

        "I was definitely afraid of that, yeah. Lucky for Billy, I wouldn't have to kill him, because she kinda liked it." Thinking about what he'd said, Dean cringed again. "You say things like that in jest... 'I wouldn't have to kill him'... but they just don't mean the same thing after..."

        Paul rubbed his arm soothingly.

        Sighing, Dean continued. "Anyway, I'm not sure that Bridge would have come off so well herself if she'd told the other kids at school what we'd been doing. 'Hey everybody, I get off on watching two guys make out.' That's not exactly the most acceptable kink for chicks, either."

        "So, she liked to watch."

        "Yeah, and join in. And play with herself while watching and joining in. I did mention we were teenagers, right? Raging hormones."

        Paul nodded.

        "It was our little secret." Dean relaxed a bit, just as he had when all this was happening in 1995. "The fact that Bridget liked it made the whole thing a lot easier. Realizing you've got a thing for your male friend... that's hard. When you have a female audience spurring you on, you just go, to get her excited. It doesn't seem so wrong."

        Paul added, "Well, I imagine it wasn't such a chore for her. If Bridget liked watching two guys together, she could do a lot worse in the looks department."

        "You do realize you just said a guy who looks like you is attractive?" Dean commented with a laugh.

        Paul rolled his eyes, laughing too. "I meant you."

        "Yeah, yeah. Ego maniac," Dean teased, and winked. "Anyway, I'm actually really surprised we never got caught, with how many nights this went on. My dad was gone a lot and Sam stayed over at friend's houses sometimes, or was asleep in his own room. There was one time, though, that he almost caught us."

        "Uh oh..."

        "Billy came over after school to do homework and of course, we got out of hand. We had both just taken our shirts off and, well... I forgot to lock the door." Rolling his eyes at the memory, Dean finished, "Sam came in without knocking. I got really mad because I was embarrassed and yelled at him, threw a pillow at him or something."

        "Do you think he knew what was going on?" Paul asked.

        Dean considered the possibility. "I don't think so. It was over ten years ago. If Sam knew what was happening, wouldn't he have said something? I mean, holy shit, my brother is screwing a guy. Wouldn't you have said something by now?"

        "Well... he was just a kid back then..."

        "Yeah, you're right. He probably didn't know."

        Paul suddenly began to chuckle. "Hearing about your teenage sex life, it makes me realize how vanilla I am. Only sixteen and involved in a love triangle."

        Dean had to laugh too. "Yeah, but you had a lost weekend in college with some bondage maven."

        Letting out a loud chuckle, Paul shook his head. "Let's not get into that." He eyed Dean carefully. "You really like those threesomes?" His tone had grown awkward as he looked at the other man from under his bangs.

        "Yeah, sure," Dean replied with a shrug. He leaned back on the couch, closer to Paul. "It's not something I have to do, but I like 'em. What about you?"

        "I've never had a threesome."

        "You ever wanna do one, I can make it good for you." Dean ran a finger along the side of Paul's face and under his chin. Licking his lips, Paul leaned into him, giving Dean a little kiss. "We can go slow. Make it gentle."

        Paul whispered, "I don't understand the levels you're taking me to. Before you, there were things I never even thought of doing." They kissed. "Now, I'd try almost anything you wanted because I know you would take care of me." The two men kissed again, deeply and with passion.

        Dean didn't know how he was ever going to get this conversation back on track, with all the side roads they kept taking. "It's not that I don't love kissing you, babe, but there are parts of this story I can't tell with everyone else present. We need to finish talking about this before they get back."

        Reluctantly, Paul nodded and moved back. "Okay. It's just..." He leaned into Dean and kissed him again.

        Dean finally had to draw up all his strength, pushing Paul away. "Later, later."

        Once more, Paul nodded and slid a few inches away from him. "You better continue. Quick."

        "Okay." Running a hand through his hair, Dean tried to get control of himself. "I know what will dampen my libido. A story about Stu."

        "Oh, yeah. How did he react to all of this?"

        "Well, as you can imagine, he wasn't happy..."


        Billy had taken their relationship to this new level about a week before, and Dean still felt a bit overwhelmed by it. As he exited the school through a side door, his mind wasn't on anything around him, but on the things he and Billy had done only the night before, and why he wanted those things to continue. "I can't be gay; I still really like chicks," he thought. "So what is this? And how can I keep my family from finding - "


        Dean turned around. Stu had been waiting for him by the door, as he knew that was the one Dean most often used on his way out of school. Although Dean saw the displeased look on Stu's face, he didn't even flinch as the other boy approached him, just stood his ground with his backpack slung over one shoulder. "Yeah?"

        Stu tried to be intimidating, but it wasn't a very convincing act since Dean was clearly the bigger guy. "I'm only going to tell you this once. You need to stay away from Billy."

        Dean gave a casual shrug. "Why would you want me to do that?"

        "You know why," Stu replied, his lips tight and stretched over his teeth. "I've been here a lot longer than you have."

        "I don't know what you mean, Stu," Dean said. He was enjoying this. If Stu intended to put on a big prick-waving show, Dean was going to make him say it.

        Rolling his eyes, Stu continued, "Listen, nimrod. I want you... to stay... away from Billy. Did you get that?"

        "I heard you." Dean made it obvious by the sly smile on his face that he had no intention of doing what Stu wanted of him.

        Stu let out a sigh. "Okay, it's obvious you're too dumb to get it, so I'll make things clearer. If you don't stay away from Billy, I will fuck you up. Do you understand me?"

        Dean just laughed, mockingly. "You are going to fuck me up."

        "Yeah. You have no idea what I'm capable of."

        Laughing again, Dean stepped into Stu's personal space. Stu's bottom lip quivered and his eyelid twitched, but he tried to stand his ground. However, Dean knew from those involuntary movements that Stu was scared. "Look, I know you don't want to lose your little boyfriend, but he was never yours. What did Billy ever let you do besides suck his dick?"

        Stu's badass expression faltered; his face crumpled for a moment as he cringed.

        "Does he ever suck yours, Stu? Does he even let you kiss him?"

        The features of Stu's face began to twitch in anger and hurt. "Shut up," he hissed.

        "Does it kill you to think that you've been here for, what, years? And some hotshot from out of town blows in and steals Billy away from you in only two months?"

        Stu suddenly exploded, eyes and mouth wide open. "I'VE BEEN GUARDING MY GATE FOR A LONG TIME, BITCH!"

        Dean barely flinched. "A Nightmare on Elm Street Part 4: The Dream Master," he said with a grin, identifying where Stu's quote came from.

        "No, it was part three," he corrected, spitting vitriol and breathing hard.

        Dean shook his head. "Check it. It was part four." He simply turned and started to walk away.

        "If you don't do what I say, I don't have to just go after you," Stu called. When Dean's stride began to slow down, he continued, "You've got a little brother, right? I bet you - "

        Dropping his backpack, Dean turned and rushed at Stu, grabbing him by the shirt. In less than four seconds, he had Stu slammed up against the outer wall of the school and was in his face. "You come anywhere near my brother and I'll kill you, do you understand me? I won't be the only one. You don't want to meet my dad or any of his friends either. Trust me."

        A satisfied little grin came to Stu's face. Even if he didn't mean his threat, he had gotten under Dean's skin, and that was enough for him. "You can only kill me once, Winchester."

        Dean let him go. He grabbed up his backpack and started to walk away. "Billy can make his own decisions on who he wants to be with," he said, and left Stu standing there, just staring at him as he made his way across the parking lot.

On to Chapter 8.

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