Knowing what she knew, Missouri Moseley cursed herself for waiting until morning to call John.

"What's the matter with you?" She fussed to herself, "That man needs to know the truth."

Missouri still in her nightgown and robe picked up the telephone and dialed John Winchester's private cell number. Not even his boys had access to it.

"Pick up, pick up," she muttered into the receiver.

At the sound of John's voice message, Missouri frowned and clicked off the phone. This was something she couldn't leave a message about. It was too important. She shuffled into her kitchen and filled the teapot, before reaching in the fridge for the package of English muffins. She shivered uncontrollably and turned to survey her kitchen space before continuing with the task at hand. A light knock on the door nearly caused her to spill the package of muffins all over her just mopped floor.

Missouri stood still, clutching the muffin bag close to her. Every instinct in her was screaming to not open the door. If her information was correct, a door would not be enough to keep out what was might be on the other side.

---

Dean struggled as the dark haired creature tied him up naked and spread eagle on his bed. Dean looked around trying to remember how'd he gotten to this room with the oversized brass bed and fiery red satin sheets. He wanted to scream for Sam, but it was as if his vocal chords were paralyzed. The shadowy figure with the dark shoulder length hair and bangs that hid his eyes approached from the foot of the bed. Dean realized the ropes on his feet had enough give so he could move his legs. The tall figure crawled up the bed between Dean's legs, digging what appeared to be talons into his thighs. The pain was severe and Dean could see rivulets of blood oozing from where the creature dug into him. The creature pulled Dean's legs up until his knees were bent and spread apart. Dean felt something nudging at his anus and his eyes opened in horror, knowing what was about to happen.

In his mind he was screaming, "What are you going to do to me?"

The faceless creature smiled as if reading his thoughts and answered, "I'm going to seed you."

Dean bolted upright, dazed and disoriented. He looked to his left and saw the figure of his brother sound asleep in the bed across from him. He turned towards the window and saw the sun beginning to rise. Flopping back down and wiping the sweat from his face with his tee shirt, Dean prayed that he wasn't getting visions too. He looked back over at his younger brother finding it curious that Sam was sleeping so soundly. It was usually Sam who woke up at all hours of the night because of his dreams. Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, Dean headed for the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face and get a grip on what had just transpired.

Once inside, he opted for a warm shower to clear the dream that was still haunting him out of his head. He debated on whether to tell Sam about it, but thought better of it. Besides, Dean was almost certain the figure in his nightmare was male and he wasn't in the mood for being teased by his younger brother, or for that matter having a discussion about his sexual preferences. When they were teens, Dean has snuck a number of what he loosely referred to as boyfriends in the house when their dad would go hunting solo. He doubted Sam was aware of them, but even if he was, this was not a time the dredge all that up. They had enough on their hands without dealing with Sam possibly freaking at his brother being gay.

---

John Winchester had been driving when he got the call from Missouri. Although he answered on the first ring, the call had inexplicably gone to voicemail. His experience and his gut told him to turn the car around and head back to Kansas. Missouri rarely called if it wasn't important. He pressed the redial button on his cell and waited for Missouri to pick up. After the fourth ring John made a U-turn on the open road and headed back to his former hometown.

---

Sam had been sleeping peacefully lately. Well when he thought about it, he was having more and more frequent erotic dreams about people he and Dean had met. The dreams had started about a month ago. He remembered that because it was a month ago when Dean's car broke down while they were in Conover, Wisconsin. They had walked a couple of miles back to the nearest town with Dean bitching about leaving his precious car unattended. The mechanic they found towed the car to his shop and was trying to charge them an absurd amount of money that they definitely did not have to fix it. That night, Sam dreamed he was in the man's home. The dream was so vivid and full of detail. Sam had entered the man's room in his dream and lay on top of him, whispering in his ear to fix their car for free.

The next morning Sam had awakened, deeply disturbed by his dream. His back was aching by his shoulder blades and his sheets were sticky. Once he realized he had had a wet dream, he snuck off to the bathroom to clean himself before Dean woke up. After ordering the cheapest breakfast they could find, Dean was all set to spend the day tracking down a card game or pool hall where he could earn some quick cash. The brothers had stopped by the garage to get a final price on the repairs. As they arrived, Wilbert or Dilbert or whatever the guy's name was came barreling at them smiling at Sam and telling them the car would be ready tomorrow free of charge.

Dean was skeptical and was ready high tail it out there. Sam was stunned and a little disturbed by the turn of events. He definitely didn't want to share what he believed to be the correlation between his dream and the mechanic's offer concerning their car. Pulling Dean away before he blew the deal, Sam convinced Dean not to look a gift horse in the mouth and led him away from the place. As he looked back, the greasy mechanic was checking him out. It made Sam pull his brother away even faster.

---

Missouri knew she couldn't stay holed up in her house all day. The knock on the door had been someone inquiring about her services. She had a lucrative business as a psychic, plus she knew ways to protect herself. She was just about to perform a protection ritual when her phone rang causing her for the second time that day to almost jump out of her skin.

"Missouri, are you okay?" John asked, relieved to hear his friend's voice.

"John, where are you? We need to talk," Missouri spoke in her singsong voice.

"I'm heading back towards you. Is everything okay?"

"No John. It's not. How soon can you get here and where are the boys?"

---

Dean was exhausted. They had just finished battling a nasty poltergeist in Springfield, Vermont. They both wanted desperately to leave town that night but were in no condition to do so. Dean felt drained and from the looks of it, Sam was equally exhausted. Once they were back in their motel room, Dean kicked off his shoes and tossed his jacket to the armchair opposite his bed as watched his brother roll his shoulders a few times to work out the kinks.

"Back hurting you again?" Dean asked, walking over to the bed and kneeling behind his brother.

"Yeah," Sam groaned, tilting his head forward as his brother's nimble fingers worked their magic.

Dean massaged his brother's neck first, brushing the wild brunette locks aside for better access.

"Ah, that feels good," Sam groaned again, letting his chin dip all the way forward to his chest.

"You need a haircut," Dean said, working his fingers into the tense shoulder blades. "Did something cut you back here?"

Dean felt above the material of his brother's long sleeve shirt. Something like scar tissue seemed to be running down Sam's shoulder blades.

"I don't think so?" Sam muttered, thoroughly enjoying his massage.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but take off your shirt and let me have a look."

"Pervert," Sam teased.

"You wish," Dean shot back.

Sam obliged, gripping his shirt and tee from the bottom and pulling them over his shoulders.

"God Sam," Dean gasped, "when did this happen?"

Dean traced his fingers down the parallel scars on his brother's back. Sam winced as Dean's fingers explored the marks.

"Sam, this didn't happen when we fought that werewolf in Buffalo did it?"

"No," Sam said, trying in vain to look back at what Dean was seeing. "Besides, several full moons have passed since then. I think we would have noticed if I was a werewolf?"

"I suppose you're right," Dean frowned, puzzled by what he was seeing.

He leaned in closer and Sam shivered as he felt his brother's breath upon his back.

"You cold?" Dean asked, running a solitary finger over the ridges of the scars.

"A little," Sam lied.

"I hate to tell you this, but I think your sprouting some funky hairs or fungus or something from these scars. Let me get the antiseptic," Dean said, crawling off the bed and digging through his bag.

"Think Sammy, where do you think you got hurt."

Dean returned to the bed and dabbed the antiseptic on it with a cloth.

"Dean? Do you think something is happening to me?"

"You're the psychic, you tell me."

Sam smiled. He knew Dean was worried, but it was just like him to make light of the situation. Dean had spent most of his life protecting him. Sam wished he could start to return the favor.

---

Missouri didn't let on, but she was actually thankful that John Winchester wasn't that far away when he called. She felt safe having him around. He understood things and was always on his guard. She didn't think she could get a good nights sleep all alone in her house tonight. It was well after eight in the evening when John rang the bell. Missouri had spent the rest of the day seeing clients and later fixing dinner for her and John.

When he arrived, he hugged his friend, put his bags in his room; the one Missouri always reserved for him, and sat down to a hearty roast beef dinner. It wasn't until after dinner that his friend broached the subject that had been bothering her since late last night.

"John, there's no easy way for me to begin, so I'll get straight to the point. Tell me everything about Mary's pregnancy with Sam and his birth."

Missouri was surprised that John didn't question her reasons for wanting to know. Instead he sighed as if he knew this day would come and without emotion gave Missouri the answers she had been expecting.

---

Dean was dreaming again. The figure was back, kneeling between his legs. Something was waving behind the brunette slender figure. Something that looked liked wings. The creature leaned down over him. Dean could feel his hair brush his face. Pressing his lips against his ear it whispered, "You're mine now."

"Dean?" Sam stood over his brother, shaking him awake.

"Sammy," Dean sat up, terrified and grasping at his brother's arm..

"You were talking in your sleep. Well, actually more like yelling," Sam said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Wanna talk about it."

Dean looked up at his brother, still trying to get his bearings. "Nah," he shook his head. "Just a bad dream. Go back to sleep."

Sam hesitated before returning to his bed.

"I'm here if you need me bro," Sam said, reaching to turn off the light.

"I do Sam," Dean thought to himself. "Now more than ever."

---

Missouri Mosley still didn't get any sleep. She lay awake in her bed listening to the sound of her friend John snoring in the adjacent room and going over the story he told her of Mary's nightmares weeks before she found out she was pregnant. His story confirmed what she already suspected. When she'd met Sam in person again after all those years, she could sense his power. It was very strong. Her mind ran to the King Arthur legends and the stories of Merlin. At the time, she couldn't get a sense on the extent of his powers but she did pick up on his feelings for Dean. That's why she was so hard on the older Winchester boy when they sought out her help.

"That damn boy is clueless," she muttered, as she thought about Dean.

Another thought came to her. Something Sam had told her after Mary had saved the boys in their old home. Mary had told Sam she was sorry.

"Did you know?" Missouri whispered.

---

Dean made a ritual of checking Sam's back nightly before they went to bed. At first the lesions appeared to be getting worse and then suddenly they all but vanished into two barely visible long lines. Sam never said anything, but he enjoyed having Dean fuss over him the way he did. There was a point in their lives when they were teens that Dean had seemed to abandon his protective role.

Sam let his mind drift back to that time as he lay flat on his stomach, his brother tending to the scars. The touch of Dean's fingertips helped transport him to a time when he was fifteen and still in high school. Back then Sam only hunted on the weekends. Dean had graduated high school the previous year and was going on hunts regularly with their father. Sam thought it must have been hard on Dean, trying to play mother, father and slayer all at the same time. Usually when Dean and John Winchester were away, it was Dean who called to check in on Sam. At other times, John would send Dean home while he chased after the next monster.

Sam remembered those times bitterly. Dean had gotten into the habit of bringing strange young men home. He would hear the sounds coming out of Dean's room and something akin to jealousy would well up inside of him. Sam remembered something else as well, that dream about the mechanic wasn't the first dream he ever had like that. There was one particular guy that Dean would invite over, a tall slim brunette by the name of Shane. He was a total loser and Sam suspected somewhat abusive to Dean. Sam knew that Dean could have kicked the guy's ass if he wanted to, but for whatever reason, he chose not to.

One night Sam dreamed he was inside the Shane's house, even though he wasn't even sure where the guy lived. In his dream Sam was naked and standing at the foot of the young man's bed watching him sleep. He crawled up the bed pinning the guy with his body and holding his hands down over his head. Shane's eyes were wild with fear and he tried to struggle but couldn't throw Sam off of him. In his dream Sam had leaned down into his ear and whispered, "Stay away, he's mine."

Sam couldn't recall ever seeing that jerk come around his brother again. The thought of it coupled with his more recent dreams made him shudder.

"Did I hurt you," Dean said, feeling his brother tremble beneath him.

Dean's voice jolted Sam back to the present and the motel room.

"No, I'm...just cold."

Dean rested the palm of his hand on Sam's back.

"Well, the scars are healing nicely. There's hardly a trace of them at all. You have to be more careful Sam. It could have been a lot worse."

Sam wasn't so sure it wasn't already.