A/N: Hello dear readers. This idea came from a reader and I ran with it. I hope you enjoy this short story (3 chapters). I will be posting the other chapters every other day. I do like reviews. NC

Chapter 1

Darkness had fallen across the land, and Dean was about two hours from the town where he had finished a hunt. He decided to look for a motel somewhere to spend the night and rest. Flashes of lightning danced across the sky as the storm that was following him got closer and a rumble of thunder proceeded it. The air was filled with static charge form the storm and you could smell the rain in the air. The wind was picking up and turned the leaves on the trees over and making them sway and dance about. He signaled to switch lanes and slowed as he guided his Baby to the next exit and up the ramp. Looking both ways, Dean tried to decide which way he wanted to go.

As if it was a beacon in the night, he could just make out the lights for a bar and turned the Impala to the right deciding it wouldn't hurt to have a cold beer or two so he could unwind from the hunt. He shifted his shoulders and grimaced with the pain. Taking out a vengeful spirit should have been a piece of cake, but he managed to get tossed around several times by the angry spirit bruising his body, before torching the bones. It was not anything new to him to get some type of injury while on a hunt, thought some ended up being more serious than others.

The gravel parking lot for the bar was crowded and Dean found a spot near the back of the lot to park where he thought his Baby wouldn't get dinged. He sat in the car and stared at the bar as past memories pushed forward, before he could stop them. His world had blown up, what was it now, two years? No, more like three years now; had it been that long already, Dean thought shaking his head.

His younger brother announced out of the blue, he was leaving to go to college. Sammy had gotten a full ride at Stanford University in California. He wanted to stop hunting to go to college. That didn't go over very well with their father and Dean thought they were going to come to blows before Sam gathered his things and left, not looking back when John told him if he left to not come back. He didn't even tell Dean goodbye which broke his heart and tore a hole in his soul.

Dean was so numbed by the news he couldn't say anything to Sam that night. The mixture of emotions that coursed through him almost pushed him over the edge. He didn't know how to feel. He was hurt, pissed and felt betrayed that Sam had not even told him of his plans. He thought they were close, had a special bond, and yet Sam didn't even hint anything about this. Hell, he raised the kid and Sam kept him in the dark about his desires. Dean knew Sam didn't like hunting like he did. Dean was born to hunt and became the warrior his father trained him to be. He was a natural at it and everything seemed to come easy for him.

Whereas, Sam had to work twice as hard to try and be even half as good as Dean. It always seemed that no matter how hard he tried Sam could never do enough to meet John's high standards. As he got older all they seemed to do is butt heads and argue about everything. Neither could see how much alike they truly were. Dean had gotten so tired of breaking up their fights and trying to be the voice of reason. He was always the one to get Sam away from their Dad so they both could cool off and hopefully be civil with each other.

After Sam left, John became moody, withdrawn, and snapped at Dean for months taking his frustrations out on him like it was his fault Sam had left. He remained silent and took the abuse from his father. Maybe he thought he deserved it for not speaking up when Sam left. They hunted together and neither mentioned Sam nor suggested trying to contact him. Dean would be doing something and start to ask Sam about it, only to realize he wasn't there.

Dean shifted in the seat when he thought about the second shoe that fell about six or seven months ago. He had gone to get beer and came back to find his Dad had left. The motel room was empty of John's things, only Dean's remained. He found a note that only said something had come up and he needed to take care of it alone. There were some crumpled up money by the note and that was it, he didn't even have the decency to tell him face to face that he was leaving.

For the first time in his short life, Dean Winchester was alone, literally alone.

spn

As the weeks and months passed, Dean became wild, careless, self-destructive, disorderly, unpredictable, fierce, foolish, and uncontrollable. His attitude and personality completely changed. He took on the mantel of 'I don't need any of that and I'll show 'em I'm just as good without either of them!' He had been literally dumped by his family and left alone not having anyone to be responsible for anymore. Hunting became his only priority and he didn't care where he went or what he was hunting. He threw himself into every hunt, no matter the danger or the possibility that he could be badly hurt or killed. He had been concussed on several of them, broken an arm on one, cracked several ribs on another, and had new scars to add to his collection.

Dean went to Bobby's to heal on a couple of occasions, but only stayed a few days because Bobby tried to talk some sense into him, and it pissed Dean off. He didn't want to hear any of it. He was Dean frickin' Winchester and he was alone to do as he pleased. No one seemed to care about him, so why should he care about himself. Dean wasn't even sure who he was anymore without having Sammy to take care of and keep safe.

Dean started picking up women wherever he found them, bars, strip clubs, restaurants, wherever a female would catch his eyes. His one-night stands began to pile up and he didn't care. He never got a name, never kept a phone number or returned a call. They meant nothing to him except to satisfy his manly needs. He'd never spend the night if they ended up at her place and he got rid of them as soon as the sex was over if he was at a motel or in the Impala. He would love them and leave them, never looking back, knowing he would never see them again.

Hunting and sex were all he was concerned with until he almost died on a hunt and got a victim killed. That seemed to shake some sense into him and made him stop to re-evaluate his life. He knew he was playing it too loose and dangerously and was going to have to stop it. As he thought back on that time, Dean wondered if he was unconsciously trying to get himself killed to end his suffering.

spn

Pushing aside all his pend up emotions and locking them away, Dean finally opened the driver's door and stepped from the car. He had been raised not to let your emotions show or else you might be taken as weak and an easy target. He carefully stretched, trying to get the soreness from his stiff body before walking toward the front door of the Sniper's Nest. He wondered about the name and its significance and then let the thought fade away.

He stepped inside and paused just inside the doorway to let his eyes adjust to the brighter but dim lights and to scope the place out. It seemed like any other bar he had visited over the years, but the crowd seemed a little tamer here and not quite as nosy. There was a jukebox playing some country/western song sitting in a corner that a few couples were dancing to, and a couple of pool tables and dart board on the other side of the room. He was surprised to see no one smoking and noticed signs posted around the room for 'No Smoking'. This was a first, but he liked it, and not having to deal with the second hand smoke.

The bar ran along the far wall and there were tables spaced out around the room, leaving a small space for dancing near the jukebox. Not sensing any danger or seeing anyone he knew Dean made his way to the far side of the bar to a corner stool and took a seat away from the other patrons. Dean didn't want to socialize and hoped it stayed that way.

Storm looked up when a new face stepped into the bar. She arched her eyebrows with interest thinking he was easy on the eyes and a handsome specimen of the opposite sex. She watched him check the place out with a critical eye before continuing into the bar. Most of her patrons were not that serious or intense, they came in and looked for a place to sit, ordered a beer or liquor and socialized. He looked to be her age or a little younger and she noticed a slight limp and stiffness of his body as he made his way to the end of the bar to take a seat away from the other customers.

"Good evening, what can I get you?" Storm asked Dean as she wiped the bar in front of him before putting a napkin down. She looked over his handsome features, but saw a tightness around the mouth and eyes that was out of place.

"Beer and Jack," Dean mumbled, slumping slightly onto the bar with his arms. He couldn't help but notice the bartender's fit, athletic form, and how her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail with strands curling around her face. She was taller than most women and was good looking but not what he would call drop dead gorgeous. Any other time, Dean would be hitting on her, but that wasn't on his agenda tonight.

"Coming right up." Storm turned to get a shot glass and sat it at Dean's hand. She picked up a bottle of Jack Daniel's and pour a shot. She reached into the cooler and pulled an ice-cold bottle of beer out, popped the top and put it on the napkin. "Enjoy, and if you need anything else, let me know."

Dean only glanced up at Storm acknowledging he heard her, before picking up his shot and tossing it back, coughing softly as it burned all the way down to settle into his empty stomach. He took a sip of his beer, letting the coldness cool his throat as he let his mind shut down. He didn't want to think, all he wanted was to numb his mind and hopefully ease his fractured soul. He could feel the icy cold of the bottle creeping up his fingers as he held it.

spn

Storm owned the bar with her father, but she ran it, had for the past seven years. She had a knack with numbers and easily kept the books in order and dealt with the day to day running of the place. She had gone to the community college part time and took accounting courses to help her learn the ropes. Her father had been in the Marines and when he mustered out had bought the bar. She helped him fix it up and did the necessary paperwork for them to open the establishment. They had a lot of veterans that were regular customers and most nights had a steady flow of locals wanting a beer after a long day of working. Her father volunteered with several veteran charities to help the men and women who came back from the war broken and disabled. He would be gone months at a time, but always kept in touch to see how she was and if everything was okay with her and the bar. Storm had a couple of local girls as waitresses on the weekend when business picked up and only one during the week.

There were a few simple rules that Storm enforced and were written out in large lettering and hanging behind the bar for everyone to see. No fighting, no drugs, no overindulging in drink, no hitting on the hired help, and if you are told to leave, leave, no arguing, no questions asked. She abided by those rules and strictly enforced them. She wanted people to enjoy themselves while they were there and with the help of a couple of ex-Marine buddies of her fathers, she was able to do this.

Her Dad made sure she knew how to defend herself and it didn't hurt that she carried a handgun on her hip to use if needed. She was a crack shot and wasn't afraid to use if the situation deemed it necessary. Storm knew martial arts and could take down a man twice her size without breaking a sweat. She didn't back down from a fight, but if she could avoid them, she would.

Dean caught Storm's eye and motioned for another shot thinking he deserved it. He never noticed that the crowd was starting to thin out as the impending storm got closer. He waited as Storm filled the shot glass again and drank it down in two swallows. He wasn't sure why all that happened in the past seemed to be rearing its ugly head now. Maybe it was because his last hunt had two teenagers that were brothers and it reminded him of Sammy and him.

Storm refilled the guy's glass and studied him for a moment wondering what his story was. She could see the haunted look in his eyes and got a sense something major had happened in his life. Storm was good at reading people and could tell if a person was good or not and could sense their feelings. Her Mom called it the 'shining' and told her she got it from her grandmother who was gifted with it. Storm never talked about it, except to her Dad who was understanding and was supportive. He loved his daughter very much and only wanted the best for her. It didn't scare him and thought it would be helpful to her.

She lost her Mom when she was ten to a car accident and it was only her and her Dad from then on. Her father never remarried because he told her, her Mom was the love of his life and his soulmate. She had stayed with her grandparents when her Dad was sent overseas. When he came back, they would move to whatever base he was assigned and stay until he was moved elsewhere. She took it all in stride and was happy to be with her father when she could be, knowing he was serving his country and keeping it safe.

spn

"Sweetheart, why don't you leave the bottle of Jack and how 'bout another beer?" Dean asked dropping a few bills on the bar when Storm stepped over to see if he needed another beer.

Storm didn't like being called sweetheart or honey by any customer, but when this guy did it didn't sound leering or sexist. Storm glanced at the money and saw it was plenty to cover the bottle of Jack Daniels and the beer. She sat the half full bottle by Dean's arm before speaking.

"You've either lost someone very close to you or your girlfriend dumped you," Storm commented as she opened another beer for him.

Dean looked up into her curious, blue, he thought, eyes and tried to decide if he wanted to say anything. Before he could respond, Strom moved away to take another order, saving him a reply. He poured his own shot and slowly sipped on it as his mind wandered. He thought about Sammy and wondered how he was doing. He shook his head dispelling the thoughts when he started to plunge into a depressed state.

"Here you go sir, it's from the woman at the table over there," Storm offered, pointing to a table, as she sat another beer in front of Dean a short time later.

Dean looked up and saw a red head looking his way with a sexy, alluring smile on her face. He half smiled and shook his head he wasn't interested but nodded thanks for the beer. He watched her expression change to a pout and a look of disappointment as Dean looked down at his beer. It wasn't unusual that women sent him drinks and he used to hook up with them, but that was the old Dean. The new Dean was playing it cool with the women and not doing the one night stands any longer.

Storm came by to pick up his empties and he spoke to her in a soft voice.

"Look, if anyone else wants to buy me a beer, tell them thank you, but I'm not interested. Saves a lot of trouble and there won't be any misunderstandings."

"Sure, no problem," Storm replied thinking that was a first. Most men as hot as he was would be eating up all the attention and enjoying the free beers. She sensed there was something different about Dean and saw the pain and loss in his eyes and the stern, but unreadable expression on his face. He was doing a good job of trying to hide it, but she could see he was pretending to be okay when he was far from it.

spn

Lightning lit up the darkness around the bar and thunder rumbled through the area as large drops of rain began to fall. Storm started closing the bar down as the last of the customers left, wanting to get home before the storm hit full force. She gathered up empties and wiped tables before going back behind the bar. A soft cough had Storm laying a hand on the butt of her gun as she looked intently toward the end of the bar to see movement.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you," Dean told her when he saw her reach for her sidearm. He had noticed it when he sat down and figured she knew how to use it and didn't want to get shot.

"Damn! You scared the crap out of me," Storm fussed at him as she grabbed her chest and breathed deeply to slow her racing heart. She hadn't realized that he was still here and walked slowly toward him. She noticed the whiskey bottle was empty and he was finishing the last of his beer.

"Guess I should leave," Dean surmised, standing slowly and getting his balance. He wasn't drunk, but he wasn't feeling any pain. Dean took a few cautious weaving steps down the bar toward the door, using it as support.

Storm studied at him and looked toward the door as a clap of rolling thunder made the place shake and she could hear the rain getting harder.

"Wait," Storm called to Dean. "Look, I can't in good conscious let you go out there in that storm after drinking. The worst of it has not got here yet and the weather report is calling for damaging hail with it. Why don't you pull your vehicle around back and under the car port? I live upstairs and you can weather out the storm with me."

Dean stopped and looked back at Storm as she spoke. He had not looked forward to driving in the storm and in his state may have just stayed in the parking lot until it passed. It didn't take him but a moment to make a decision.

"Okay, why not," he answered, thinking the offer was open and honest. He didn't see any hidden agenda in her words and he really didn't want to try to drive with the storm raging outside.

"Good. I'll lock up after you go out and meet you at the backdoor to let you in," Storm told him walking around the bar and following Dean to the front door. "Are you sure you'll be okay to move your car? I can go move it if you want."

"No, I can handle it. I'm not going that far and besides, you're the one being nice here, so I should be the one to get drenched." Dean turned up the collar of his jacket and zipped it up before Storm opened the door. He pulled out his keys and had them ready to use when he got to the Impala.

The wind was picking up and almost jerked the door from Storm's hands as she let Dean out into the raging monsoon. It was getting worse and the rain was coming down harder. Dean hunched in his jacket and walked down the steps so not to fall, before jogging toward the one car left in the parking lot, his. He almost lost his balance when a gust of wind whipped around the building slamming into him but managed to keep on his feet as he grabbed the Impala for support.

Storm waited at the door until she saw Dean get into a black, older car and start it up. What was she thinking? This wasn't like her, Storm didn't invite strangers upstairs to her living quarters, but there was something about this guy. Something that pulled at her heart strings wanting to protect him and ease his pain. He seemed so lost and vulnerable. Maybe she could get him to talk about it and lessen the burden he was bearing; she could lend an ear, so to speak.

She closed and locked the front door and made her way behind the bar and through a swinging door to the back. Storm unlocked the backdoor and peeked out, waiting for Dean to pull the car under the carport and park.

Dean got out of his car and glance around as the motion lights came on, illuminating a red Dodge Challenger with black stripes and figured that must be the bartender's car. He made a run for the back door when thunder boomed off to the right side of the carport making him move faster.

Storm watched him get out and stumble once as he ran through the driving rain for the backdoor. She opened it and allowed him entrance and closed and locked it, setting the alarm that was by the door.

"I'll find you some dry clothes to put on," Storm told Dean as she unlocked a side door that led to a set of stairs going to the second floor. "I'm sure Dad probably left some here, they may be a little big, but at least they're dry."

Dean wiped the rain from his face as he followed Storm up the stairs to another door that she unlocked allowing them entrance to her apartment. He stepped into a small foyer, glancing around before following her deeper into the room. He watched her stop at an alcove that looked like a small office where she took off her handgun and pulled a knife from her boot, placing them in a basket setting on a bookcase.

"House rules, any weapons are left here," she told Dean, stepping back so he could disarm himself. Storm knew he was packing and hoped he didn't take offense.

Dean reached behind him for his handgun and placed it in the basket with hers. He removed several knives, lock pick kit, flask of holy water, and a set of brass knuckles. He went ahead and dropped his wallet and car keys in there too figuring it was as good a place as any to leave them.

"I'll show you where the bathroom is and get those clothes," Storm said. She walked past a kitchen/dining area and to another door for the bathroom. "There's clean towels on the shelf there and I'll hang your wet clothes in the laundry room to dry. I'll be right back."

Dean stepped into the bathroom and pulled a towel from the stack on the shelve. He ran it over his head and then stripped out of his jacket and shirts so he could dry his body. He shivered slightly from the cold and dampness and grimaced as he looked at his bruised body in the mirror behind the sink.

Storm came back and pushed the door open enough to hand him the sweats and tee shirt she found. She looked at Dean's reflection in the mirror and frowned when she saw the scrapes and bruises scattered across his upper body. She could tell they were recent and wondered if he was in some kind of trouble. She quickly looked away when he started to take off his jeans but gave a quick glance to see his tight backside, fussing at herself for being so bold. She wasn't looking to hook up and she didn't think this guy was in the mood either.

"Here you go, these should work," she offered holding the clothes out. "If you'll give me the wet ones, I'll go hang them up."

"Okay," Dean replied. He took the clothes and draped the wet ones over her arm that was sticking in the bathroom. After getting his boots off, he got his wet jeans off and gave them to her. "Alright, that's it."

"You can make yourself at home in the living room and I'll join you in a minute." Storm's arm disappeared from the room and she headed for the laundry room. After hanging up his clothes, Storm went to her bedroom and changed clothes and decided to make them some hot chocolate to help take the chill away.

spn

Dean slipped on the sweats and tee shirt on as a wave of nausea hit him, and the world began spinning. He grabbed the sink and closed his eyes waiting for it to pass or either throw up. He swallowed back the bile in the back of his throat and drew in some slow, deep breaths until the feelings passed. He pulled a small cup from a plastic holder and turned on the cold water. Dean rinsed his mouth first and sipped a little water to get the taste out of it. He splashed some cold water on his face and dried it.

He didn't hear the bartender and wandered into the living room and took a seat on the couch. Dean let his eyes roam the room taking in the simple décor, thinking the surroundings seemed to suit her. He looked toward the doorway to the kitchen as she stepped into the room carrying two cups. She had changed out of her jeans and tee shirt into an oversized tee shirt and pajama shorts. Her feet were bare, and she drew her long legs up under her as she sat down leaving a suitable distance between them.

"I made us some hot chocolate. Thought it would warm you up after your rain shower," Storm told him, offering a cup to Dean. "I don't drink coffee, but I do have it. This was easier and quicker to make; hope you don't mind."

"It's fine and thanks," Dean said accepting the cup. He sniffed the hot liquid and blew across it before taking a tentative sip. He arched an eyebrow thinking it tasted better than he expected and wondered if it was some fancy kind. He took another swallow, feeling the hot liquid warming him from the inside out.

"I guess I should introduce myself, name's Storm," she told him jumping when lightning and thunder struck outside making the building shake with the strength and ferocity of the storm.

"That's ironic," Dean chuckled, twitching with the sudden sound. "Dean, nice to meet you and thanks for the dry clothes."

"You're welcome Dean. Are you from around her or just passing through?"

"Passing through, saw the lights of the bar and decided what the hell, it wouldn't hurt to have a cold one or two. Didn't think about the storm coming through and it being this bad. So, I take it you own this place?"

"Yes, my Dad bought it and I run it. I'm part owner." Storm sipped on her drink as silence fell between them. She wasn't sure what to say to Dean and didn't want him getting the wrong idea. She saw him tremble slightly and reached for the blanket on the sofa and draped it around his shoulders. "Mind if I turn on some music? It helps me unwind after working downstairs."

"Sure, go ahead, it's your place," Dean shrugged. He pulled the blanket a little tighter around him hoping to rid himself of the chill that ran up his back. He listened to the soft music that filled the room and let his eyes linger on the framed photos on a bookshelf nearby. Dean saw several of a man in uniform and looked down at his shirt realizing what was emblazoned across the front of it, 'Semper Fi'. Guess that explained the name of the bar now too. Storm's Dad was in the Marines and that made him think of his own Dad and a wave of sadness swept over him for a moment before he hid it away. It looked like they had some things in common.

"Don't know what kind of music you like, but I like the soft, subtle tone to relax me."

"It's fine," Dean told her thinking it was gentle and haunting in a way. He watched her settle back on the couch and lean her head back, closing her eyes as she nodded gently to the music.

Storm felt Dean move nearby and looked over at him taking in his strong profile. She wanted to ask him what had him seeking the comfort at the bottom of a bottle but didn't want to press him. Maybe after they relaxed a bit, she'd broach the subject. He seemed like a complex individual with demons he was battling.

"So, Dean, I don't mean to pry or anything, but you seem pretty down and sad. Is there anything you'd like to talk about?" Storm asked him after about fifteen minutes. "Being a bartender, I am a good listener and as my Grams always told me, 'It's better to get whatever is bothering you off your chest so it doesn't eat away at your soul.' She was a wise woman and I loved her dearly. It's not good to keep things bottled up inside because one day they're going to come out and it won't be a pretty site."

Dean stiffened when Storm asked her question. He looked down into his empty cup not sure if he could say it out loud. His life was complicated, and he didn't want to expose her to his world by telling her about what was out there in the dark. Could he tell her the basics? Would it make him feel better or just open up the old wounds that had not healed but were not as raw as they had been.

"I understand your hesitation but think about it. You seemed to be carrying a very heavy load that's weighting you down. I'm here and it might to help, I truly believe that. Maybe talking to a stranger is easier than talking to someone you know," Storm told him softly. She could see his steady breathing as his chest rose and fell and he pressed his lips together. Storm didn't think he was going to say anything, but he finally spoke in a low voice.

"You asked me in the bar if I had lost someone close to me…" Dean started as he sighed figuring what the hell, he would only been here for a little while and won't be seeing her again. "I lost my Mom when I was four and my little brother was six months old. It was just me, Sammy, and our Dad after that. We moved around a lot for Dad's…Work…And it was up to me to take care of my brother. He was my entire life and it was drilled into me to look after Sammy and keep him safe. It was hard on all of us, but we survived, and I did what I had to, to take care of him."

"We have something in common, I lost my Mom when I was ten, so I know how that feels. I wished I had some siblings but I'm an only child," Storm commented when Dean stopped for a moment and waited for him to continue.

"Sammy announced out of the blue that he was leaving and going to college. I don't know how he did it us moving so much and having to change schools all the time, but he got a scholarship to Stanford," Dean continued, pride showing in his voice at his brother's achievement.

"Wow, Stanford is a big deal. Your brother must be really smart."

"Yeah he is. He never hinted or confided in me about this. Dad and him had a huge fight that almost came to blows because of it. Dad pretty much kicked him out and told him not to come back. He left and I did nothing to stop him or at least talk to him. I was numb, devastated, at a loss…But I was pissed and furious at Sammy too for not telling me his plans. I had given him everything growing up and it was like none of it mattered now. I didn't even get a goodbye…When he left, I had nothing, no purpose in my life…" Dean's voice trailed off as the memory of that night played again in his head. Tears pricked his eyes and he turned his head to hide them. "Then about seven months ago I went on a beer run and Dad left too…A note said he had some things he needed to do…Everyone left me…" Dean's voice cracked as the tears started to fall. He had leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands hanging between them wishing he could just curl up and die.

Storm knew it took a lot of effort for Dean to talk to her and saw how torn up he was about what had happened. She took his cup and set it aside before turning to pull Dean sideways toward her so she could wrap her arms around him, letting his head rest on her shoulder. Dean was resistant and tried to pull away, but Storm kept a strong hold and cupped her hand on the back of his neck massaging it until he gave in and accepted her embrace.

She could feel the silent tears wet her skin as his breath hitched. Storm cooed to him and rubbed his back in small circles. She felt his arms go around her waist as he clung to her like a drowning man. Storm couldn't imagine what Dean was going through to have his family leave him behind. He was lost, heartbroken, struggling to find meaning again, and just wanted to know someone cared.

"It's alright, let it all out, I'm here, I'm not going anywhere," she mumbled into this ear trying to comfort him. She heard soft sobs coming from Dean as he released his pent-up emotions and she kissed the top of his head. Storm began to hum along with the music as she swayed slightly, rocking him. They stayed that way for a while until Dean calmed. When she felt him relaxing, Storm carefully pushed him up enough to look into his gorgeous green eyes that were still brimming with tears. "Guess we should get ready for bed? It is late."

"I'll take the couch," he mumbled feeling too drained to even move and not wanting to give her the wrong impression.

"There's a bed in the spare room you can use that will be more comfortable than the couch. My Dad uses it when he's here. Come, I'll show you and I'll put out a new toothbrush and paste for you," she told him getting up and pulling him with her.

She led him down the hall and below the bathroom to another open door. She flipped a switch, turning on a lamp by the bed and stepped back allowing Dean to enter.

Dean looked around seeing a full-size bed against one wall with a chest sitting at the foot of the bed and a dresser across from it. It was simple and rustic and would do just fine for him.

"Give me a minute in the bathroom and it's all yours," Storm told him. She stepped from the room and went into the bathroom closing the door. After taking out a new toothbrush and small tube of paste for Dean, she brushed her teeth and washed her face. She stepped from the bathroom and called softly to Dean, "I finished in the bathroom."

Dean was sitting on the bed and hear Storm's soft voice alerting him the bathroom was free. He stepped to the doorway and saw her go into a room across from the bathroom and closing the door partway. He moved to the bathroom and relieved himself before opening the toothbrush and squirting paste onto it. Dean slowly brushed his teeth as the thought about Storm. He had to admit that it did feel good to finally talk to someone. It did seem to unburden him, but he didn't think anything would fill the hole that in his soul. Since Sam left, it felt like a he was missing a part of himself. He felt fractured and his heart was broken.

When he was finished in the bathroom, Dean paused outside Storm's door for a moment before walking on down to the other room. He pulled the covers down and slipped under them, smelling the fresh scent of clean sheets. After flipping off the lamp, he rolled to his side and listened to the storm raging outside. Loud pinging drew his attention to the window, and he guess the hail was here as it was blown into the side of the building sounding like pebbles hitting. With the booze, the weariness after a hunt, and being drained from telling Storm his story, he was exhausted. The howling of the wind sounded like a banshee ripping around the corner of the house. He shivered and buried deeper into the covers pulling them tighter around his body.

spn

The wind howled, lightning found its way to the ground, and thunder shook the building where the hunter and the bartender slept. Sometime during the night, Dean began to dream of the night he lost everything. He cried out in his sleep and called to his brother as some monster attacked him.

Storm woke with a start when she heard the cries coming from the other bedroom. She quickly got up and ran to the other room to find Dean tossing and fighting some unknow force as he called his brother's name. She went to his side, sitting on the bed at his hip, to try and wake him.

"Hey, Dean, hey it's alright," Storm told him shaking his shoulders to rouse him from the nightmare. She patted his cheeks hard trying to snap him out of it. She deflected a punch and grabbed his arm to keep him from throwing another one.

Dean's eyes snapped open, but he didn't see Storm as he stared at her. He quickly flipped her over his body and pinned her to the bed as he loomed over her, panting hard as he tried to make his mind work.

"It's Storm, Dean, you were having a nightmare," Storm spoke slowly and calmly to him. She knew he wouldn't hurt her, but she needed to bring him back. "You're in my apartment, remember the storm, you stayed so you wouldn't have to drive in it."

Dean blinked quickly several times and shook his head as he became aware of what he was doing.

"Oh God! Did I hurt you?" Dean cringed moving from her body to fall back on the bed with his hands over his face.

"I'm okay Dean, really," she whispered to him turning and laying a hand on his hands. She could hear his soft sobs behind his hands and couldn't stop the tears forming in her own eyes. "Come here honey." Storm pulled him over and into her arms, letting his head rest on her shoulder. She didn't feel any resistance this time like he was too weak and overcome with emotions to stop her.

Dean could feel her gentle touch and his body moving as she tugged on him, turning him so she could gather him in her arms. He could hear her speaking softly into his ear as tears wet his cheeks and ran down onto her bare skin. He could feel her warmth seep into his cool body as he shivered and tried to stop the sobs from escaping.

"Let go Dean, sometimes you have to feel the pain to get past it," she whispered as she cupped his cheek and ran her thumb over it, wiping his tears away.

Something started building inside of Dean and he couldn't stop the wail of despair from passing his lips as he cried out loud several times before letting his hoarse voice quiet. Once he gained some control of himself, Dean turned away from Storm onto his side facing away from her. He hated to breakdown like this in front of her, thinking she must think he was weak and pathetic.

When Storm saw Dean seemed to be in control and pulled away to turn over, she wiped her own tears. She stayed by his side, close enough that he would know she was there, but didn't touch him. Storm knew he wouldn't want that now and abided by his wishes.

spn

Morning light was streaming through the curtained window of the bedroom as Dean and Storm started waking. Storm was humming softly as she ran her hands under Dean's tee shirt to rub his bare body. Dean had his arms around Storm, holding her close as he moved his head closer to hers. Just as their lips were about to touch, they opened their eyes and saw what was going on.

"Crap!" Storm hissed as she worked on untangling herself from Dean's embrace. She felt her face growing hot with embarrassment.

"Shit!" Dena said at the same time trying to help her but not making it any easier. He felt like a teenager getting caught trying to steal his first kiss.

They lay on their backs staring up at the ceiling, neither saying anything until Storm broke the uneasy silence.

"I don't want you to get the wrong idea," she started, her voice soft.

"No, I'm…"

"Let me finish, please. I'm not one to invite a guy, even a sexy hunk like you, up here to my private quarters. The reason I did you, well, I could feel your pain and didn't want to have the guilt if you wrapped your car around a tree or telephone pole if I sent you out there in that storm last night. I knew you weren't a threat to me. It was like I was supposed to help you if I could. If something else happened, well…There have only been three men to walk through my doors and one of them is my Dad…" she told Dean as her hand went to her left arm to rub a scar on her bicep.

Dean turned to look at her as she spoke and saw the pained expression on her face as she talked. He saw Storm absently rub a scar on her bicep and knew enough about injuries to tell that was a knife wound. It seemed both of them had secrets in their past. It ran from under her tee shirt sleeve down her bicep and to the bend of her elbow. His face darkened in anger that anyone would hurt her like that. He wanted to hunt the person down and beat the hell out of him.

Without thinking, Dean rolled to his side toward her, and leaned down to gently kiss the scar before looking up into Storm's piercing blue eyes as he moved his mouth closer to her slightly parted lips. Just as he was about to kiss her, a loud rumbling noise sounded from Dean's stomach only to be followed by an almost as loud rumbling from Storm's stomach. They looked at each other and started laughing, as Dean butted his forehead against her forehead.

"I better go see what I have for lunch before they attack," Storm giggled. "It seems we slept through breakfast." She slid to the side of the bed and got up. "Maybe we can continue this later?" she questioned giving him a wanting look as her eyes roamed over his body.

"I'd like that," Dean grinned watching her slink away like a predatory animal. He lay in bed for a moment letting Storm finish in the bathroom before heaving himself out of bed and heading that way. Once he finished in the bathroom, Dean walked the short distance to the kitchen to find Storm busying herself with make lunch.

"Hey," Storm spoke looking up at Dean and giving him a warm smile. "So, I've got homemade chicken salad and ham and swiss cheese sandwiches. I figured we'd have half of each, and I've got some chips in the drawer behind you."

"That sound good to me," Dean replied looking behind him and pulling out the drawer to see several different kinds of chips. He pulled out an open bag of chips and sat them on the bar between the two plates Storm was putting the sandwiches on. She added a dill pickle to each plate before sitting them on place mats at the bar.

"Do you want beer, water, coffee, or tea?" Storm asked waiting for a response before moving to the fridge.

"I think tea for now. I had enough beer last night," Dean replied.

"Tea it is," she stated opening the fridge and taking out a pitcher of tea. Storm filled two glasses with ice and poured tea. "Go ahead and sit, we're not formal around here."

"Looks good. Who taught you to cook?"

"My Grams. I stayed with my grandparents, part of the time when Dad was on assignment overseas. She was the best cook in the county. She won blue ribbons for her pies and preserves."

"Did you say pie?" Dean perked up.

"Yes, why don't I throw one together for dinner tonight if you like?"

"I would, and this chicken salad is awesome. If your pies are as good, I may just have to marry you." Dean took another bite of his half sandwich and hummed his approval.

"I bet you say that to everyone who cooks for you," Storm teased him, giggling softly. She picked up her pickle and took a bite while eyeing Dean thoughtfully. He made her heart beat faster and a warm feeling start in her stomach when he flashed a smile at her. She got really interested in her sandwich to try and hide her desires.

They finished their lunch and cleaned the kitchen. Dean looked out the back door and saw it was still raining outside, but at least the storm had passed. Storm suggested they move to the living room and turned on her Ipod that was sitting in a station with speakers. Music filled the room as they settled on the couch to listen to it.

Dean let Storm settle by his side as she laced her fingers through his and rested their hands on his leg. He draped an arm loosely around her shoulders. He smiled to himself thinking it didn't matter if they had sex or not, he enjoyed being with her and learning more about her. She was different than other women he had been with and it sort of scared him but made him happy at the same time. She saw a side of him that not many people saw and wasn't frightened by it. He was glad she didn't bring up the nightmare last night because he didn't want to dwell on it. He was content to sit on her couch with her and listen to the music.

TBC