Author's Note: Alright, so I probabllyyy should've mentioned this in the previous chapter so it wouldn't come as such a shock, BUT, I do have some disheartening news. This chapter will, in fact, be the last one for this fanfic. So savor every sentence! Lol. ;)
But of course, on a happier note, there will be a sequel. Sooo...yay.
The morning light hit me like a ton of figurative bricks. The bright rays were coming from the nearby window, and even with my eyes closed I felt blinded. I squeezed my eyes tighter, absently turning away slightly. It felt kind of nice, once I thought about it. I was like a lazy cat, basking in the sunlight and enjoying just loafing around with nothing to do. I snuggled further into my pillow, and curled up tighter into a ball. Just a few more minutes, I sighed contently to myself.
Even half-dead from slumber, I could easily recall my drive to the Vesters' motel room, and even my willingness to sleep in their bed. I wasn't sure what exactly that meant yet. For me, trust was everything, and one of the most vulnerable positions a person could be in was while they were sleeping.
That being said, did this mean I officially trusted the Vesters, even with my own life? My back was facing entirely away from the rest of the room, and I had been unconscious for gods only knew how long. Somehow, my trust factor for them had skyrocketed during these past few days.
After several long minutes of contently laying there, I finally decided it was time to face reality. As I groggily opened my eyes to the world around me, my fingers traced the material of the sheets, savoring the feel.
My initial weariness was wearing off, and I was beginning to become more aware. Birds were chirping loudly, and the sun was brighter than usual, brighter than it should be.
My once squinted eyes burst open.
"Oh fuck!" I ripped the sheets off my body, and saw both Dean and John physically jump from the commotion. They watched with wide eyes as I stumble out of the bed, seeing me nearly trip over some of the covers that had fallen to the floor.
"Wait, Sam…what?" Dean asked.
"What time is it?" I asked.
John looked at his watch. "Half passed eleven."
I groaned loudly, rushed to the exit mumbling, "Fuck fuck fuck fuck".
Dean sprung to his feet. "Wait, where are you going?" he asked, rushing toward me.
My hand was on the doorknob, and I threw the door nearly off its hinges. "Work."
Neither had time to respond before I was out the door, my feet pounding on the pavement. The Vesters' motel room was a good mile from The Ramrod, and I was so fucking screwed it wasn't even fucking funny.
I made it to The Ramrod in decent time, bursting the door open and flinging myself through the threshold. Did Coleman notice my absence? Was I safe?
Greg was already on stage, and noticed my explosive arrival. Even at this far distance I could see the relief in his expression, and he jumped off the stage, surprising the enthralled spectators as he jogged quickly in my direction.
I met him halfway, near the booths, and his voice was shaky. "Sam, where have you been? Coleman's pissed." As he was speaking, he thoroughly inspected my body for new injuries, even conspicuously lifting up my shirt and shirtsleeves.
"Where have you been, Sam?" he murmured when he was done, putting his big hand on my cheek. I didn't need to have physical injuries to prove I was injured. The majority of my pain was mental.
"I was with the Vesters."
His gaze turned murderous, and the hand on my cheek twitched violently. "Did they do something?"
I shook my head, my voice and expression that of quiet wonder. "I…I slept in their bed."
His eyes widened, his brain probably doing somersaults in his head. Not sleep as in fuck, but sleep as in sleep? I knew his mind was reeling.
"Sam…I'm so glad for you." Greg cracked a happy smile. Ever since my brother and father's death, I hadn't been able to rely on anyone. But, ever since Greg, he'd been the only one I could rely on. Maybe the tides were finally changing in my favor?
Greg's smile gradually fell, and he quickly looked around, eyes searching. He was glad to see me safe, but he also recognized that no one was safe when you went against policy, especially me. Ever since my initial deal with Coleman, I'd become his pet, and he was always looking for excuses to use me.
"Damn it," I mumbled under my breath, also shooting glances around the spacious room. My shift had started at 10, but by now it had to be past noon. Fuck.
I didn't even know what to do. Should I look for Coleman in his office and apologize profusely, maybe let him have his way with me a little to make up for it? Or should I ignore it and hope he lets me off the hook. I lived for punctuality, and this was the first time I'd ever been late to work. How would Coleman take it?
I was about to find out as Coleman suddenly showed up, strolling up from behind Greg to stand beside him. Greg's eyes widened, and I didn't doubt mine did too as we both stared at him. Coleman's eyes were burning holes into mine, and a shiver ran through me.
"Well, well, look who finally decided to show up."
I gulped, and he held a hand in front of his chest, motioning me with a finger to follow him.
Hesitantly, I walked to his side, following his lead. I gave Greg a swift, hopefully reassuring gaze, and all I saw in his was sadness and guilt.
Soon, I was moving passed him, and he stuttered out a, "W-wait." Greg licked his lips as Coleman turned to look at him questioningly. "Please, Master Coleman…don't hurt him."
"Hurt him?" He chuckled. "Why, Greg, you needn't worry. I'm just going to get him into his work outfit." He had a sadistic smirk in place as his arm slid around my waist, and anyone listening or watching would know his true intentions. He was going to fuck me in the locker room.
Greg knew it too, and watched helplessly as I was led away, a lamb to the slaughter. I appreciated Greg's effort, I truly did. But he had a family to look after, and if he got fired because he was trying to defend me I would never forgive myself.
"Ah, fuck no," Greg suddenly roared, and I turned just in time to see Coleman being yanked backward, off his feet and onto his ass. Greg's expression was menacing, his hand fisted in the back of Coleman's shirt. "No one's gonna hurt Sam if I can help it."
Coleman cursed loudly as Greg released him, attracting the eyes of a few customers at the nearby bar. Barney the bartender wasn't serving the drinks, and the current bartender looked ruthless, only scoffing as he glanced in my direction.
Coleman climbed to his knees, his lethal gaze zeroed in on Greg. "Listen to me very carefully. If you want to keep your job, I suggest you back down, right now. If you don't…" His mouth was in a seemingly permanent sneer. "You're done."
Greg's stance became no less defensive, eyes smoldering with rage and defiance. After another moment, Coleman growled in annoyance, waving his hand beckoningly in Greg's direction.
I watched in confusion, but it wasn't Greg Coleman was gesturing to; it was someone behind him.
And said man suddenly sprung out from the shadows, revealing himself as Sebastian, the stuttering, awkward guy nobody could imagine doing anything useful with his life.
He now stood protectively in front of Coleman, standing between both him and Greg. Had it not been for the look of sheer confidence on Sebastian's face, I wouldn't have at all been concerned for Greg's well-being. While Sebastian was thin and seemingly clumsy, Greg was tall and brawny.
But this appearance Sebastian had, so self-assured…it scared me. Could this man really expect to defeat Greg so easily?
In my distracted stupor, I hadn't noticed until too late that Coleman had moved from behind Sebastian. With a swift hand, I felt as my shirt was yanked from behind. A squeak escaped my lips as I was suddenly hauled backwards, and I struggled frantically against his grip.
Coleman suddenly wrapped his other arm tight around my neck, squeezing. "You make one more show of defiance," he breathed into my ear. "And I'll hurt all you hold dear."
I swallowed, squeezing my eyes tight. Why did this always happen to me? What did I do to deserve such hatred?
I nodded, and Coleman released me, allowing me to stand on my own two feet.
"Sam, no!" I turned to see Greg shout for me. His sole focus was on me, and I wanted to shout at him, to scream that it wasn't me he should be paying attention to.
As Greg rushed toward me, Sebastian appeared in an intense flurry, and suddenly Greg was being knocked backwards, his back hitting the wall with a loud, thunderous boom.
My hand automatically reached out to him, and my feet were in motion to start sprinting in his direction when Coleman once again took hold of me. The older man's grip was relentless, and against my will I found myself slipping away from Greg.
"Don't worry, beautiful Sammy. I instructed Sebastian to go lightly on your little boyfriend, so he should be fine." Coleman's jeering voice dripped with sarcasm, and I could only hope it was the truth. Greg was ten times stronger than I was and, if not even he could defeat Sebastian, then there was nothing I could do…
My eyes grew watery, and I swiftly blinked it away. It was fine; Greg would be fine…
I could only swallow and hope for the best as Coleman led me toward the locker room, where we'd inevitably fuck like rabbits.
However, surprisingly, Coleman took us a different route, away from the locker room and toward his office. This made me feel no better, and my stomach was rumbling with trepidation. I absently wondered how much sex he had in store for us.
"You know what this means, right?" Coleman asked.
I didn't, and I wasn't sure I wanted to. I shook my head, saying a hesitant, "No".
He said nothing, and only when we reached the door to his office did he turn to look at me. "You're going to be punished."
"Ah, no. Ah!" I screamed, tearing rolling down my cheeks. "Stop it!" My voice echoed off the walls, and a thick roll of tape was aptly forced onto my lips, sealing them shut. My screams were low and muffled and not nearly loud enough to attract any that may be passing by, effectively ruining my chances of escape. I moaned in horror, my hands tied to the two bedposts at the head of the bed while my legs were pulled back, my knees dangling on either side of my head. My legs were spread wide, and so was my hole, which was entirely filled by Coleman's cock. My scream was again muffled as he pushed deeper, and more tears spilled from my eyes. I yanked hard on the ropes keeping me in place, and I could feel my sanity slipping away. How many times had I told myself I would avoid this situation? How many times did I promise myself I would not fall for another man's tricks, and allow myself to get tied up?
Now I was facing the consequences, and I questioned if I'd ever be saved. What if the Vesters' investigations had been on the right track and Coleman really was a killer? What if he killed Greg, the only one who knew where I was and who I was with? What if I became Coleman's eternal fuck toy, tied to this bed until the day he got tired of me and killed me so he could search for a replacement?
My cries only grew harder and more desperate, and Coleman seemed thoroughly amused, licking my face to dry the tears. "There, there, Sammy, I'll protect you. Just stay still and it'll be over soon." With that, he plunged deeper, knocking my body backwards. "You…" he panted, his speech not hindering his thrusts. "Belong...to me."
I nodded hysterically, hoping my submission would appease him. I was used to this kind of harsh treatment during sex, but it was the physical restraints that I couldn't stand. Coleman knew my phobias, and he was taking advantage of them.
Fuck, this must be what dying feels like.
While Coleman continued his thrusts, one of his hands trailed down my chest, finding a nipple and squeezing.
"You like this. Don't you, Sammy?" he ridiculed,
I moaned into the tape as Coleman released inside me, groaning loudly. After a few moments of reprieve, he pulled out, replacing his cock with a thick vibrator. I squeaked in surprise, the churning inside of me still unfamiliar. It was much faster than the one I'd worn for work, and it sloshed around, mingling in with the semen that still filled me. Fuck, I thought as another tear rolled down my cheek. If only I hadn't allowed myself to drop my guard in front of the Vesters. If I hadn't fallen asleep, I would've been here on time, and none of this would be happening.
My head suddenly cocked to the side, and I faintly heard footsteps walking by Coleman's office door. Even in the deep throes of pain and pleasure alike, I strained my ears to hear Sebastian's timid voice being overcome by several others, louder and more demanding. The voices were vaguely familiar, but the vibrator was then shoved deeper and my entire thought process was eradicated, the heady moan that escaped my lips loud despite the tape.
I looked to see Coleman's mouth in a deep, heated frown, and watched as he viciously tore off another, longer piece of tape. I struggled as he placed it harshly over my eyes, sealing my sight.
"Don't ever forget, Sam," he whispered harshly, his breath stinging my ear, "Who you belong to."
Just then there was an explosive bang from somewhere to my left, and the hinges of the door screamed as the wood collided with the adjacent wall. I flinched in horror. There was no way to protect myself, and all I could only rely on was my hearing.
The darkness I was trapped in was leaving me hysterical. What if Coleman decided he wanted to share me, and brought friends so he could pass me around? Could I even survive that?
I listened intently as what seemed like three sets of footsteps made their way into the room, stopping at the entrance. I couldn't stifle my responding horror, and I whimpered pitifully into the tape on my mouth.
I felt the bedsprings bounce back as Coleman stood, and his shadow fell over me. Was it someone else's turn to have me?
"I was expecting you bunch," Coleman said, referring to the still unknown new arrivals.
I yanked futilely on the tight rope around my wrists, hating myself for the panicky mewl that escaped. I was just so desperate. What was I going to do if I was entombed here forever, all my life being fed only Coleman's dick and his semen?
"Step away from Sam, you fucker." The voice sounded frighteningly like Dean, and it made my ears pique with interest. The only people I could imagine that'd know about my predicament and were willing to help were Greg and the Vesters. Maybe it was those three that were standing here now?
Maybe they could save me before I truly broke.
A hand suddenly grabbed the vibrator in my ass, pulling it out then shoving it right back in. I yelped in surprise, my hands automatically attempting to push the prodding toy away. But my hands were still tied high above my head, and my muffled cries began all over again.
There was a loud hiss from across the room. "Damn it, move back. I said get away from him!" I heard a weird, metallic noise, one I was only vaguely familiar with. It reminded me of the one time some guy paid me to watch a movie with him after sex. He'd said he was lonely, and paid extra, so I willingly occupied myself with a movie about aliens and humans beating the shit out of each other. The aliens used their own sharp, kaleidoscopic talons as weapons, while the two main characters retaliated with loud machines guns.
But…the guys at the door…they couldn't have guns, right?
Coleman's hiss of seemingly hesitant annoyance made me not too sure. "What you gonna do? Shoot me?" Coleman's cackle echoed through the room. "Do that and you'd have a shitload of paperwork and life in prison for murder."
"We're cops, dipshit." I was right; that was definitely Dean's voice. So they did come for me.
Coleman's hand had barely stroked my cock when a gunshot resounded through the air, followed by a loud, shrieking cry. The hand was removed, and my body instinctively flinched, curling up as best it could. I didn't doubt the Vesters' battle experience, but a freak accident could occur if I didn't take any precautions.
I heard a howl escape Coleman's lips as he cried out, "Ah, fuck!" and I had no doubt he'd been shot.
A heavy lump of a body fell onto the bed, then across my legs. It pushed the vibrator deeper, and I moaned into the tape over my mouth. Based on touch alone, it seemed like his head had somehow fallen onto my crotch, while the rest of his body lay between my splayed legs.
My tied hands yanked fiercely on the rope, hysteria once again setting in. I barely realized Coleman's body being launched off me, or even when the tape was gently peeled from my mouth and eyes. My hands were freed from the restraints, and my body was very slowly and gradually pulled into a sitting position. I was leaning against what seemed to be a warm body situated behind me, and it was probably the only thing keeping me upright.
I wept for what felt like forever. I was choking on my own air, gulping in large lungfuls as I continued to wheeze sporadically. It had been so long since I'd genuinely cried. When was the last time? Father's death, or Mother's?
I didn't remember.
I was making that annoying hiccupping sound, each one nearly in sync with the vibrations coming from my ass. I ignored it as best I could, and buried my face in my hands. How embarrassing. All this time, I hadn't wanted the Vesters to see my weak side, and here I was letting it all out. What a weakling.
There was shuffling, and then another warm body pressed against me from the side. I uncovered my eye just enough to see teary-eyed Dean kneeling beside me, hugging me like he was dying.
I barely turned my head to look behind me, realizing that it was Greg I was leaning against. His arms were wrapped around my waist and his lips were moving slowly, probably whispering soothing nothings. I couldn't tell what he was saying, and everything felt like it was in slow motion, but the soft hum of his voice was comforting. Greg had been with me forever, and has helped me through so many horrible situations. Where would I be without him?
And what of this new group that had gradually ducked its head into my small family? Dean and John Vester were here in this room with me, and whether they were hugging me fiercely or violently tying up the man that had hurt me, their presence was nothing but reassuring to me.
I hugged Dean back, and leaned more heavily against Greg. Fuck, I couldn't have better people to rely on.
Not breaking the hug, I glanced to the now shackled Coleman. He was naked, his mouth was covered with tape, his face scrunched in pain, and there was blood splattered all over his groin and inner thighs. I blushed a bit, realizing that that was where he'd been shot.
John was standing behind Coleman, who was whimpering, his face crumpled in fear as tears dripped down his cheeks and onto the floor. John's face became an angry sneer, and he vehemently heaved the man to his feet, pushing him out the door with a strong shove. He turned to give Dean a terse nod, and me a reassuring smile, before closing the door behind him, leading Coleman away.
"Are you okay, Sammy?" Dean asked, releasing me from the hug and petting my cheek lightly.
I swallowed, not trusting my voice. I sat in silence for several seconds before I was able to stutter out, "My…my name's Sam." Dean's fingers trailed lightly along my skin, a barely-there sensation and cold to the touch, and I involuntarily leaned into it. "But, yeah…I t-think I'm o-okay." I didn't know how I was okay, didn't know it was even possible to recover from my own worst phobias. But, somehow, I was alive. I wasn't scratching at my once shackled wrists until they bled; I wasn't dowsing my entire body in boiling water until it gave me third-degree burns. I was…okay.
I smiled a small smile, somehow relieved. I was okay. I was okay.
Realization dawned on me.
And I was still naked.
"Uhh…" I scratched awkwardly at the back of my head, and a light seemed to go off in Dean's head. He was still leaning over me, his body nearly overwhelmingly against mine. His cheeks exploded with red, and he immediately burst into action, flinging himself away while simultaneously taking off his jacket, placing it around my waist.
I smiled shyly. "Thanks." My body was still shaking from the vibrator, but I realized Dean only thought I was shaking from the aftermath of Coleman's punishment.
Greg, who had witnessed a vibrator already inside me before, was not deceived.
He squeezed my waist harder, and his breath blew against my hair as he looked to Dean. "Can you…leave the room for a moment?"
Dean seemed startled, and the briefest glimmer of hurt flashed across his face. He looked to me and, when I didn't argue, he immediately clammed up, shutting off all emotions. "Yeah…yeah," he said, quickly turning and heading for the door. Opening it, he shut it behind him, slamming the wood in place.
Greg hugged me to him for a second longer, then moved out from behind me. He kept a strong hand on my back, though, fully holding my weight until I could do it myself. "This will only take a second, Sam, I promise."
I nodded, and he gradually laid me back down on the bed. I lifted my legs, pushing the jacket back on my stomach as my knees rested against my chest. Greg didn't get directly in front of my ass, but instead stayed at my side, reaching for it while giving me as much space as possible.
"Ah…" I moaned as he tugged at the vibrator. My hand immediately gripped his forearm, squeezing tightly as he pulled it out. It was thicker than most I'd dealt with, and it chafed painfully against my rim.
"Almost out, Sam…" Greg said as gently as possible, coaxing me to stay calm. Finally, it left my hole with a slick pop, and my cheeks grew red to think Greg had heard it, too.
He threw the wet vibrator out of sight, and I put my legs back down on the bed, embarrassed.
Greg sat beside me, and I shakily nodded to him. He knew me well enough to understand that was my sign of thanks when I couldn't give one verbally. He nodded and smiled in return, and resituated the jacket over my body. When he was certain it was positioned properly, he threw his arms around my shoulders, hugging me fiercely. "I'm so sorry this keeps happening to you," he whispered into my ear. Last time he'd pulled a vibrator out of me, I was in some deserted alley, unconscious because of my last client.
The more I thought of it, the more I realized how dependent I was on Greg. Gods, it was so embarrassing.
"You okay, Sam?"
I nodded, absently snuggling tighter into his neck. I didn't mind being dependent right then.
With the help of Greg, I'd finally gotten dressed, and we both left Coleman's office to find the Vesters. I didn't want to stay there longer than necessary, and I didn't think I could ever enter that room again without throwing up. Either way, though, I was handling it well right now, and I didn't anticipate going back there again anyway.
Greg led me to the main room, where Dean was currently sitting alone in a booth.
"Hey," Greg said in greeting, taking charge of the conversation for me. Dean turned in response, his face still a bit sour. Greg ignored it. "Thanks for everything back there. You really helped out a lot."
I nodded shyly, not meeting anyone's eyes as I whispered out a small, "Yeah" in agreement.
I glimpsed at Dean, and he nodded, swallowing. "Yeah, yeah, no problem. Glad to help."
I toed the ground with a shoe, feeling awkward. Heavy footfalls came from behind us, and I turned to see John coming in our direction, hands free of my boss Coleman.
"Well," John said in ultimatum as he came to stand in front of the booth. "It appears that Coleman was the murderer of the two waiters Tony Paulo and Jake Howard. Apparently he killed them because he was resentful he wasn't the only one to…forcibly hurt Sam in a sexual manner."
I cocked my head. "But how do you know that for sure?"
Dean snorted in amusement. "You don't wanna know, Sammy. Trust me when I say that my dad can be a very convincing man when he wants to be."
I swallowed, my gaze flickering to the oldest Vester before quickly finding the ground. I hoped I was never on the receiving end of John's heavy persuasions.
John ignored the comment like it was never made, and checked the time on his wristwatch. "Well, the case is over and it's still early in the morning." He turned to Dean, shooting a thumb over his shoulder. "Time to hit the road, son."
My eyes went wide. Wait, what? They were leaving? I thought they were just local police officers doing their job. Why would they leave? Did they just commute here?
Did that mean I would never see them again?
My heart beat fast, and I watched in horror as Dean nodded, slowly standing from the booth. Of course. These two had their own lives to live; they didn't want to be pulling around a promiscuous teenage boy. They didn't need to rot sitting in The Ramrod when they could be out there saving lives.
I felt jealous. For probably the millionth time in my lifespan, I wished I had a life that wasn't mine. I wished I had the money to go places, that I wasn't tied to this seedy strip club and its monetary benefits. I wished I could help others too, and not just for sex or to get off. I wanted to be free.
But I couldn't say any of that. I didn't need their pity, and guilt tripping them into taking me with them would only cause them unnecessary trouble. I liked these two, I truly did, and I wanted only the best for them. "So, uhh…" I swallowed. "W-What exactly happened t-to Coleman?" If the manager of our strip club was completely gone, I absently wondered what would become of this seedy place. Would I have to start working the streets full-time? Is this all that was left for me, just sex?
John's cheeks tinted light pink, and he toed the ground. "Uh, well." He cleared his throat. "Let's just say you won't be seeing him around anytime soon."
My heart beat faster, and I gulped. "Is…is he dead?"
John immediately shook his head. "No, no, he's alive. I just…roughed him up a bit."
Dean seemed vaguely impressed, like it was entirely out-of-character for him. Maybe John beat Coleman up because he was angry about what the man had done to me?
I only nodded, standing awkwardly beside Greg. I couldn't make these two stay. They had their own lives to live, and I wouldn't stop them.
"Well, t-thanks for all the help. I-It was nice meeting you."
I could feel Greg's questioning gaze. It wasn't often I stuttered, and this was actually probably the first time since my mother's death. Having to grow up quickly, I learned to stand up for myself and not worry about trivial things.
But, right now, I was sad as hell, and I just fucking couldn't help it.
Dean looked sad, too, and he had a seemingly forced smile in place. He stepped forward and patted me on the shoulder. "Glad to see you're okay, Sammy."
I ducked my head forward, letting hair fall into my eyes. "It's Sam," I muttered, but damn I was going to miss that nickname. I could feel my eyes growing watery, and I quickly blinked it away. Now was not the time for such antics.
Dean somehow saw it anyway, and tightened his grip on my shoulder. "I'll see you again someday. Okay?"
I nodded, and this time I couldn't stop the tear that dripped down my cheek. I hurriedly wiped it away. "D-Don't forget about me, alright?"
Dean choked on his breath, but nodded. "Damn straight I won't, Sammy. And I'll come back, okay? We'll see each other again."
I nodded, not sure if I could believe him. But damn it I'd try. I'd been let down so many times in my life, but maybe this was the one time I could place my faith in somebody other than Greg. Maybe if I reached out, they'd reach back.
I didn't know, but I did want to believe in him. I nodded again, smiling sadly. They made their way to the exit of the strip club, and Dean turned back at me and Greg, waving. I thought I saw tears in his eyes, but there was too much distance between us to know for sure.
I waved back, but it was too late, and he was already facing the other direction. Greg put an arm around my shoulder, but it didn't comfort me like it was supposed to. Wasn't Greg supposed to be the one that soothed my sadness, revived me into a real person again? What had happened? Why was my heart only yearning for Dean?
I watched the two men leave The Ramrod, and I felt my heart break in half.
For so many years I had wanted to escape this shitty town, to leave it all behind me and start anew.
But, if I did, how would Dean find me? What if he made good on his promise and came back for, but couldn't find me? He might give up the search, and we'd never meet again.
And was I willing to give up my dream of escape for just one more chance at seeing Dean Vester? Was I willing to continue on with my horrible existence just so I could talk with him one more time?
It scared me. It scared me a lot. Because, really, I already knew the answer. I would stay; no matter how much I have to suffer through here, I would wait for Dean.
So I stood there, watching the door, as if waiting for the Vesters to burst back through. I knew better, though, and stood quietly as Greg rubbed softly at my shoulder. It wasn't the touch I wanted, the touch I was yearning for but, right then, it was the best I had.
I smiled lightly to myself, closing my eyes. Maybe, in another lifetime, I would get Dean's again.
Alright, so there it was. I hope the overall chapter wasn't too disappointing. I recognize Coleman was pretty obviously guilty, so there was no real twist in my simple little plot. I guess I focused more on the emotional relationships rather than a huge plot about murders? Maybe? I dunno. Fail, I suppose.
ANYWAY, if you didn't read the author's note before beginning this chapter, I'm sad to inform you that this was, indeed, the last chapter. Mind you, I have taken all of your reviews and comments under consideration, and I will be creating a sequel. I'm not sure if it will merely be a continuation of this fanfic, or a whole other one entirely, so plan accordingly if you wish to be notified of the sequel update.
Unlike these 7 chapters, nothing for the sequel has been written, so it could take a bit of time. This ALSO means it will be much easier to implement any requests the readers may have, so please do not hesitate to send them. I very much enjoy receiving such things.
Until next time!