Hello everyone! I hope you are enjoying the story! It's still so new I really appreciate all your support! This update ended up being super long so I split it in two.

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Erin

I tossed and turned for almost an hour before I was finally able to fall asleep. I was scared about the demons finding Brandon and I, angry with Dean and even more mad at myself for letting him get to me. I don't know what I expected, he was a hunter and had simply acted like one. I couldn't fault him for that.

I was dreaming of the afternoon I met Dean and Sam in that cafe in Montana. One minute I was sitting across from them and all of a sudden demons were everywhere. Dean grabbed my arm and pulled me after him and out the back door. He shielded me with his body and I looked up at him from inches away panting. "They're coming," I warned him but it was like he couldn't hear me.

All of a sudden it was like my dream had surround sound. I could feel his intensity and every one of his emotions. I actually flinched in my dream, bringing my hand up to cup my forehead.

"I'm coming," a disembodied voice called.

My eyes snapped open and I stared into Dean's eyes from inches away. "He's found us," I warned him, but Dean just frowned down at me.

"Beckett," his voice rumbled near my ear, but it didn't make sense. He wasn't paying attention we had to run.

"Come on Beckett, wake up."

Something shook me and I jerked awake. I was panting as my heart thundered in my chest. I realized that the reason my dream had been so vivid was because Dean was bent over the edge of my bed, his warm hand wrapped around my arm.

I opened my mouth to tell him something but I couldn't for the life of me remember what it was. "What?" I asked blinking in confusion.

Dean's hand tightened around my arm as he encouraged me to sit up. "Clara's dead," he told me without preamble. That's when I noticed he was holding his gun in his other hand.

"What? What about Brandon? Is he okay?" I asked as I scrambled out of bed.

Dean let me go and backed away, his jaw tightening. His hair was still mussed from sleep and he was only wearing a pair of jeans that hung low on his hips. Whatever happened had woken him. "We'll find him," he said briskly.

He pulled me towards the door. I reached out and grabbed my jacket before he took me across the hall into his room. He grabbed a shirt off the floor and put it on. He turned and dug around in his duffel until he came out with a second gun which he handed to me.

He turned back around in time to see me shrugging on my jacket. He arched a questioning brow. "What?" I snapped defensively, taking the gun from him. "I'm not wandering around the dark house in skimpy pajamas. It feels too much like the beginning of a bad horror movie."

He snorted. "Yeah, you're not wrong."

I followed him back down the stairs. "Do you know where Brandon's room is?" he asked.

"Yeah, this way."

He scowled and I caught tinges of jealousy as I pointed out the way to Brandon's room. The room was empty and dark, and the bed was still made which was odd because when I walked with him to his room he had told me he was going to bed. A bad feeling went over me. We went back into the formal living room where the lights were blazing.

Clara's body was laying in the middle of the floor surrounded by blood. I stood over it in shock. She had been so vibrant in life. I had just spoken to her a couple hours ago. She had gently teased me about Dean and Brandon on the way up to my room.

"No sulfur," Dean reported from behind me. "It's a big house, but if she was killed in here there's no sign of a demon and her wards are all still in place," his jaw was like granite as he turned back to me and I could tell by the look in his eyes I wasn't going to like what he was about to say. "Can you use your mojo to find out if Brandon is still here?"

It took some effort but I tore my eyes away from Clara's broken body. I frowned, if the wards hadn't been broken then it could only be one of us who killed her. I knew it wasn't Dean or I, which only left one possibility. I swallowed but didn't think my voice would come out very steady so I nodded instead. I dropped my walls. Dean was the first thing I felt. He was tense and on guard, his protective instincts were pushing him to the edge and I could feel a sense of urgency that made me think he wanted to get us out of here.

"He-" I started to say and I had to clear my throat twice before I could be heard. "He's here." I confirmed, I scowled as
I pushed harder but I couldn't feel anything beyond his general presence. "I can't get a reading on him..." I pressed my lips together but I could force it. I opened my eyes and turned back to Clara's body. "It's not like with Loraine," I told Dean.

He was still pacing around the edge of the room. "How do you mean?" He asked.

"I can't feel anything like I did after Loraine died," I told him, knowing what it meant.

"So it wasn't the demon," he filled in.

I looked around the room for any more evidence and noticed something small still smoldering in the fireplace. I strode across the room and crouched down in front of it. "Dean," I called.

He turned and was at my side in seconds. His hand brushed mine and the intensity of his desire to protect me set me back on my heels. I turned to look at him from inches away. His handsome face was locked down as he reached into the fireplace and nudged one of the smoldering lumps. It fell on it's side and the blood drained from my face so fast I felt light headed. I shoved my hand into my pocket.

"Dean, it's the hex bags," I uttered in slow horror when I realized my pocket was empty.

"That son of a bitch," Dean growled.

"I dreamt the demon was coming for me," I said in a low voice.

Dean turned to me, his hard eyes ghosting over my face. "That son of a bitch isn't going to get anywhere near you," he promised, but we both knew it wasn't something he could guarantee. "The wards are still up."

"For now," a wry voice called from the doorway.

We whirled together to face Brandon. Dean took a step forward, putting himself between me and Brandon who was leaning casually in the doorway. His baby blue eyes were hard and the knife still coated in Clara's blood was in his hand. His confidence didn't make sense, Dean could easily overpower him. I felt like I was missing something, big.

"How-" I started to say and stopped when I realized Brandon and I had been sitting close enough on the couch it wouldn't have been difficult for him to slip the one out of my pocket.

"Oh come on Erin. It wasn't that hard," Brandon said with a terrifying smile. "Especially after all my upgrades."

Dean moved towards him and he held up his hand, sending him skidding backwards and slamming against the wall. I lifted my gun but with another gesture both my and Dean's guns were ripped out of our hands and thrown across the room.

"How in the hell did you do that?" Dean asked in shock.

Brandon smiled but it had too much teeth. "Well, I wasn't powerful enough for them and they really want her. All I had to do was promise to deliver and they gave me everything I asked for. The full boost to my psychic powers." he turned to face me. "Don't look at me like that. I mean come on. No psychic hopes they are just an empath. But telekenisis..." he reached out and with a gesture made an end table slam into Dean, pinning him to the wall. Dean grunted in pain and fought to push the table away.

"How cool is that?"Brandon asked with a smile.

"Cool?" Dean snarled. "You made a deal with a bunch of demons to sell out your own kind and you screwed yourself to boot. You wished for the one thing they needed from you. You drop those wards and you're as good as dead too."

Brandon snorted although for just a second he looked rattled by Dean's words. "I saved myself," he said quickly.

I shook my head, unable to figure out how I could have been so fooled. "You killed Clara? She tried to protect you."

"I didn't need protecting," Brandon growled. "I took care of myself. And she had to go, preferably before I did all of this," he said gesturing around to the room.

"She couldn't see anything beyond the event," I repeated Clara's words in slow horror.

"Winner, winner," Brandon said with a devious smile. "If she died before it all went down her future self wouldn't know about it and therefore she would never learn of it and couldn't warn you," he said triumphantly. "You know I am learning so many fascinating things about being a psychic. Us empaths really did get the short end of the stick when it comes to powers. Of course, with the extra boost..." Brandon wiggled his fingers at me. "Did you know a really powerful empath can project any emotions they want into someone else?" He asked and a predatory smile twisted his boyish face into something straight out of a nightmare. "It took me a while to figure it out, but now..." he turned on me, his eyes narrowing in concentration.

I opened my mouth to reply but my breath caught in my throat and a soft gasp was ripped from my throat.

"Beckett?" Dean's voice sounded far away. Like I was hearing him from underwater.

What can only be described as heat flooded my body and all at once I was overcome with the most intense longing I had ever felt. I took a step towards Brandon, licking my lips as the need to touch him filled me.

Brandon threw back his head and laughed. He turned to look at Dean. "Pretty cool right? I mean two hours ago, nothing I could do was going to get me out of the friend zone. Not when she was panting after you. But now..." he dragged off suggestively. "All mine."

"Let her go you son of a bitch," Dean snarled. He was struggling to get free, but he could never be strong enough to get away from Brandon's amazing telekinetic power. No one could compare. I couldn't imagine what Dean could possibly be angry about when Brandon was here. Unless he was jealous of what Brandon and I had. That was the only possible explanation. I turned towards Brandon and ran my eyes eagerly up and down his lanky frame.

"No!" Dean shouted.

Brandon grabbed me, his hands were biting painfully into my skin but it didn't matter because it meant he wanted me as badly as I wanted him. His fingers bruised my skin as he jerked me against his chest and slammed his sticky lips against mine. I moaned as insatiable lust coursed through me. He pulled back and I moved towards him, shadowing him, as the need to close the distance between us once more drowned out everything else.

"Leave her alone you bastard!" Dean yelled.

But nothing could break my focus. Not when Brandon was here.

"Take off your jacket," Brandon ordered and it made sense. I was so hot. I wanted as little clothes between me and him as possible.

"Beckett!" Dean yelled. "Beckett! Come on sweetheart look at me!"

"You shut up," Brandon snapped and he held his hand out to Dean. Dean's hand came up, clutching at his throat as Brandon used his amazing power to choke him.

My hands hesitated as they touched the collar of my jacket. Brandon was choking Dean. My eyes turned to where Dean was struggling to breathe in confusion. I took an unconscious step towards Dean.

"No!" Brandon snarled and he turned away from Dean and stared at me intently. A fresh flash of lust rose within me so fast I actually stumbled a step. I reached up and shoved the jacket off my shoulders. The boy shorts I wore left my legs long and bare, and the tank top was skimpy enough my black bra was easily visible. Brandon's eyes ran over me greedily and I smiled, glad I hadn't put on more clothes. Brandon wouldn't have been as happy with me.

"Who do you want?" Brandon asked turning away from me to meet Dean's gaze tauntingly.

"You," I heard myself respond in a voice flat.

"It's a lie," Dean snarled. "It's all a lie. She'll wake up and none of it will be real. You're not strong enough to hold her."

Brandon's hand came up to toy with my hair. "And what you have is so real? Please," he scoffed. "It's nothing but lust. I've heard of you Dean Winchester. Your reputation proceeds you. She's nothing to you. What do you care?"

"Those demons are going to come and there won't be anything left of you," Dean promised. "You just made yourself the most powerful empath in the country. They don't need her."

"But he wants her. She's special," Brandon chuckled and leaned over me, his hands smoothed over my bare shoulders, his thumbs toying with the straps of my tank top. I pushed towards him, wanting to feel more and he turned his full attention to me. There was clatter as he dropped the knife he had been holding in his hand to free up his hands. He tightened his grip on my upper arms and kissed me sloppily. My hands came up to grip his hips and his whole focus was on me.

In that second of lost concentration, Dean ripped free and charged Brandon. He tackled him away from me and when the two of them hit the ground Brandon cried out in pain. Just like that I could think again. I dropped to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

My hand touched something cold and metal and I looked down to see the knife still covered in Clara's blood. Dean and Brandon were wrestling on the floor. I snatched up the knife as Brandon used his power to throw Dean across the room. Dean slammed against the wall hard enough to crack the drywall. Brandon lifted his other hand up and Dean started choking again.

"As fun as it is to torture you, I think I would prefer to not have an audience."

My hands were shaking as they closed around the knife. I pushed myself to my feet and ran at Brandon. I slammed the knife into his back. His body went ramrod stiff and he turned around to face me, a look of confusion on his face. He stumbled forward a step and tried to reach around to get the knife but he couldn't reach it. Then he turned to me and grabbed me, his hands closing around my throat. I fought to push him off but I wasn't strong enough. There was a loud shot. I flinched. Brandon collapsed, a bullet to the brain. His hands flexed tighter in death and the dead weight dragged me down to the ground. I fought to push off the body but it was too heavy. I was trapped. Claustrophobia closed my throat and I couldn't get enough air.

"Beckett," Dean called and he ran towards us. He crouched down beside me and helped pull Brandon's body off of me.

"Beckett," he said in a low voice but my eyes were locked on the body at my feet as I fought to pull air into my lungs.

Dean reached out to help me and I flinched back away from him without thinking. Thinking about Brandon touching me made my skin crawl.

Dean went very, very still. He held his hands out so I could see them. "Come on sweetheart," he said in a gentler tone. "We need to get you out of here." He turned his palm over and waited for me to decide to touch him first.

I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath and slip my hand into Dean's, letting him pull me to my feet. As soon as he touched me it was like I could think again. Every emotion of Dean's pushed aside all of the chaotic ones bouncing around in my head. My breathing slowed and I could hear beyond my thundering heartbeat. He felt so safe. I looked up at Dean's face and nodded to him as tears burned the backs of my eyes. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against his chest. He pulled back and tipped my chin up so he could look at my neck. "Are you hurt?" He asked.

I didn't know exactly how to respond. I felt totally numb after what had happened.

"What he did-" I said and my voice broke. I sank my teeth into my lower lip until
I tasted blood to stop myself from breaking down. I couldn't break down, not now.

Dean smoothed a reassuring hand up and down my arm. "We gotta get out of here." He said in a low tone and I nodded numbly. "We don't know how long til the demons show up." He said and though his words made sense it was like I couldn't react to them. He stomped out the remaining fire of the hex bags, but there was nothing left to be saved. "Shit," he muttered.

Dean came back to me. He bent down and lifted my jacket off the floor. I shivered as I remembered what had prompted me to take it off in the first place. Dean moved carefully as he settled it over my shoulders as though he were afraid of startling me again. He was so calm and steady as he guided me towards the car. I didn't understand how he could be so unaffected. He loaded me up in the car and returned to the house. He was gone less than five minutes before he was back with our bags. He started the car and drove.

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Hope you enjoyed it!