AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Based on a dream.

But it is taking a life of its own.

OTH meets SPN with some changes to characters obviously because not only is it AU, but the characters know each other from their pasts.

Also…Haley never went back to Nathan…she kept touring and eventually signed divorce papers.

Remember…there's Saley in this story too.

****

Brooke Davis looked at her phone as it sat on the bed and she sighed loudly as she ran her fingers through her loose, dark brown hair—still no call from Sam. Where the Hell was he and why hadn't he told her or Dean that he left? Why? Didn't he understand that she needed to know where he was all the time? She knew that it was a mother hen thing, but she also knew that it was because out of Sam and Dean, she loved Sam best.

"He's still not answering." Dean told her, standing in the doorframe of her room and taking a deep breath.

Brooke turned to look at him and nodded slowly. "You should go check the library again—he loves the library."

"I've checked the library 3 times now, Brooke." Dean said, but nodded when she looked at him with those pleading hazel eyes of hers.

No matter what, those eyes always made him cave. Ever since they were little, Brooke had been able to get Sam and Dean to do and tell her practically anything. It wasn't until Sam opened up about the demon hunting that Dean truly found he had two people to take care of—not just one. So if Brooke wanted him to go look for Sam in the library again…he was going to do it.

Brooke smiled a little as he turned to leave, adjusting his leather jacket, and she laid down on the bed and looked at her phone. What would one more call hurt? She needed to know that Sam was all right. Why hadn't he called? They were in between hunts, sure, but Sam never just up and left without telling her. Why wasn't he answering?

With desperate determination, Brooke found herself pressing 2 on her speed dial—1 was Haley—and she held it up to her ear as she lazily traced the comforter of her bed. She faked a smile as it went to his voicemail, and she bit her lip to stop the tremors of worry running through her. It was so unlike him not to answer.

"Hi, this is Sam. I'm not able to come to my phone right now so leave a message. If this is an emergency, leave the problem at the tone and I'll call you back ASAP." Sam said, and then the tone resounded in Brooke's ear.

She swallowed down the pain. "Hey, Sam it's just me again. Don't worry, nothing's wrong…I was just thinking about you. Call me back when you get my message, and we'll talk then…bye."

Brooke slid the phone away from her ear and ended the call, setting her phone back on the bed and getting up. He had to be at the library—Dean would find him. Brooke went downstairs to try and eat something, Dean coming in the front door and shaking his head as she looked up at him expectantly. Brooke sighed and nodded, closing her eyes as Dean tried to find the right words to say—he was upset and disappointed in Sam too.

"He'll show up." Dean said. "He's probably just off doing something nerdy."

Brooke nodded. "Sure. Thank you…for dealing with me."

Dean nodded too. "It would be easier if it was the three of us."

"Of course." Brooke agreed.

No matter how close they seemed, Brooke and Dean had never gotten as close as Brooke and Sam. Dean kept himself at a distance from women, and Brooke respected that choice. He was a womanizer, and though he cared about her and she knew it, Brooke was just another woman who could potentially endanger them during a hunt. Lord knew she wasn't as skilled a hunter as they were, and Sam always put her needs above everything else and Dean was slightly bitter about it sometimes.

"Well…I guess you're going to head out now? With Sam not here you prolly don't want to stay—even though you're welcome to." Brooke told him.

"I appreciate motels for their magic fingers." Dean replied with a smirk, and watched as she came over to him.

She was vulnerable and he knew it, but he wrapped his arms around her as she hugged him. It would have been a short hug 'goodbye' for now, but Brooke found herself breathing in his aroma. He smelled of leather and fruit, which made Brooke laugh a little because she knew Dean's love of pie—it was one of the things they actually had in common. She closed her eyes as the pain returned of Sam being gone, and as Dean ran his hand along her back, she thought of one way to ease the pain inside.

She pulled away slowly, pressing her lips to Dean's. He was surprised, but the kiss was so sad and captivating, that he moved his lips against hers and then looked at her when she pulled away a little. He knew he shouldn't, but he'd been devoid of female company for so long and she was willing, so he kissed her again. Brooke wrapped her arms around him, parting her lips as Dean teased the corners of her mouth with his tongue. He slipped his tongue in, running it along hers, his body shivering happily as she moaned.

He picked her up, letting her slide his leather jacket off before he carried her up stairs, setting her on her bed. He shouldn't be taking advantage of her weak moment, but as he felt her slip her hand in between his legs to stroke his length, he pushed the though from his mind and moaned a little into her mouth. He pulled away only to get his shirt off, Brooke slipping off her tank and kissing him as his lips returned to hers.

She helped him out of his pants, his hands reaching for hers, pulling them off, and then quickly sliding off her underwear. This was no time for foreplay—she was trying ease the pain of Sam leaving without so much as a word, and he didn't mind easing it for her. Still though, as he felt a tear hit him thumb as he stroked her neck, he realized he should stop—forget the sensation…forget his erection, this wasn't right.

"Brooke…I do have part of a soul." Dean told her, ignoring her grunt of protest as he started to pull away. "I can't take advantage of you."

"Dean just stop talking." Brooke replied, wrapping her legs around him and rubbing herself against his length, moaning softly. "I'm a big girl…just kiss me."

Dean groaned at the thought of taking advantage of her, but gave into the need they were both feeling, merging with her as he kissed her passionately. Brooke let out a please cry, and nodded as Dean asked her if he should keep going. Dean complied, moving his body against hers in every way he could to bring them both to a simultaneous breaking point, that filled them with momentarily ecstasy. Unfortunately, once Brooke was asleep, Dean knew that he had to leave—knew he couldn't face her again after this.

He brushed some of her hair off of her damp forehead, and he smiled a sad smile. It wasn't just some one-night stand—this was his friend. How could he do this to her? He was responsible for her, and he'd just betrayed her…and was about to make it even worse. Muttering profanity about how stupid he was, he grabbed his clothes, and he headed out to find Sam once and for all.

****

Brooke stretched out the next morning, actually expecting Dean to be laying next to her, but he wasn't. She opened her eyes and looked around, laying down with the sheets around her as she nodded to herself. Of course he was gone—leaving was something that Dean was good at. Thinking about leaving, she reached down to the floor and grabbed her phone, looking at it and feeling like crying—Sam still hadn't called her back. What had she done? And where the Hell was Sam?

Dean tossed Sam the keys as Brooke got up to get dressed, and Sam raised an eyebrow. Dean never let him drive—not unless he felt like he was making things easier on himself like when Sam was still mourning Jessica. Where was Brooke? He knew he hadn't returned her calls yet, but he thought for sure that she would have come with Dean. He'd been off finding a hunt and getting Brooke a birthday present, and he knew he should call now. He'd made her worry—that much he could pick up in her 5 voicemails.

"We picking up Brooke?" Sam asked as he opened up the driver's seat door and slid into the car.

Dean shook his head. "Nope. She doesn't wanna hunt for awhile."

Dean swallowed down the guilt he felt over lying, but knew he couldn't handle being around her right now. There was too much he wanted to say that he knew he'd never be able to get out of his mouth, and he hated that he'd treated her like some waitress at a diner. Brooke Davis was his friend and he'd betrayed her…he didn't love her, but he was supposed to protect her—not take advantage of her.

"Why wouldn't she call and tell me that?" Sam asked him skeptically.

Dean scoffed. "You really think she's keen on your right now, what with not returning her calls and all?"

Sam nodded. "You're right…I'll call her when we get to Oregon."

"Good idea—let her cool off." Dean replied.

Sam turned over the ignition and pulled the Impala out onto the highway, Dean trying to figure out how he was going to talk to Brooke again—it was only a matter of time before she talked to Sam and they all had to talk about what had just happened. Shaking the thoughts away, Dean caught Sam looking at him, wondering why he was acting so strangely.

"I'm going to miss her too." Sam told him.

Dean rolled his eyes. "What are you talking about? It'll be nice to have no estrogen to deal with for once."

Sam laughed a little and rolled his eyes at his brother, Brooke sitting in her living room as her mother came into the house. Brooke couldn't keep the tears at bay as her mother started rambling off about things that Brooke wasn't paying attention to, and she suddenly couldn't take the pain of abandonment anymore.

"Mom?" Brooke choked out.

Victoria looked at her. "What is it?"

"They just left. They always just leave." Brooke cried.

Victoria hugged her, letting her cry on her shoulder, stroking her daughter's hair softly. She knew he hadn't been around for Brooke in the past, but she felt bad that Brooke had to deal with abandonment again.

"I love you, Brooke." Victoria whispered and Brooke nodded and held her even tighter. "And I'm proud of you for being this strong."

"I love you too, Mom." Brooke whispered.

"How about some music?" Dean offered, and turned on the radio, Sam rolling his eyes and tolerating his brother's choice of music.