This is my new fic. I've never written slash before let alone a sex scene and yet here I am posting one. *laughs*

I'm writing this other story Memories or Dreams and I have Dean and Steve in it. I loved them so much I decided to write a fic just for them: here it is!

I have no idea how long it will be. More than 3, no more than 10 chapters. My Muse might change it up on me, like she did with my other fic, so who really knows. *laughs with a slight hint of hysteria* My Muse is a pushy one, so it's all up to her.

Read! Enjoy! Tell me what y'all think!

Dean Winchester hummed as loud as he could on the red eye flight to Honolulu. Flying is bad. Planes crash. Hence him driving everywhere on the mainland. But there was no one else to take the hunt and his dad flat out told him he wasn't going to take it and Bobby laughed at him. So did Caleb and Pastor Jim. They're assholes, the lot of them.

He's twenty-three and flying to Hawaii should have been a dream, considering it's Spring Break, and he blends in quite nicely with the college crowd. But he's flying. No. Hell no.

When the plane touched down, Dean kept his seatbelt on until his row was called. Why? Because as soon as the belt was off, there was nothing keeping Dean in his seat waiting. Fear of flying is no joke. That and he's in Hawaii in the spring, in one word: hot. Dean fidgeted in his seat, fingers tapping out a beat, and legs were jumping up and down as he not-so patiently waited for his row to be called. He looked around, peaked through the tiny window to check out the airport to pass the time, and fingered the belt clasp.

As soon as their row was called, Dean shot up and tore down the aisle, much to the amusement of the attendents and his fellow fliers.

Whatever.

Dean only had his carry ons, a backpack and a duffle. No need for luggage check. Dad said there was a contact for him in Oahu to provide him with any supplies he might need. Dean doesn't think he'll need it, he's hunting ghosts, and a poltergeist or two. All he needs is lighter fluid, salt, and matches. Then he's done. Give him a week.

Okay, three, maybe for days, but he says a week because he's factoring in Spring Break. He's red blooded male, Spring Break is candyland for him. Easy pickings.

Dean grinned. Oh yeah.

He breezed through security and found a rental Bobby set up...yeah, he's going to kill Bobby. Old codger got him a dark green Monte Carlo. He's killing him and blaming a ghost for the murder. He's watched enough forensic shows to know how to pull off a murder with no evidence to tie him to the deed, and to wash away any residual DNA that could be on him, and come up with an alibi. Bobby doesn't stand a chance. He's got the cuteness factor that'll put everyone on his side, though his dad might be suspicious of him for a while.

A snort has him doubling over in laughter. Good god, he might actually need a vacation. He's debating about patricide (sort of) and he's actually coming up with scenarios and alibis.

He blames Sam. Don't get him wrong, he loves his little brother to death, but when that little shit took off for Stanford, leaving him and dad alone hunting the demon that killed their mother, with harsh words to boot, let's just say even Dean has a limit with his baby bro. They couldn't have talked it over calmly, could they? No. Dad and Sam fell into their usual groove of fighting, leaving Dean watching as his family tore itself apart. Then the little shit and his bastard of a father both said some words that left no room for a peaceful reconcilliation. Dad said, leave and don't come back and Sam retorted fine. That was that.

It's been five months since Sam left and their dad is either drinking himself into a coma or hunting. No inbetween.

They both need to grow up. Dean can't deal with this shit anymore, but god, does he miss his family.

Dean shook himself to get rid of those quite depressing thoughts and turned them to the job at hand, which is Oahu has a surprising amount of hauntings. How are there no hunters here? One would think there'd be some here.

He mentally shrugged. No skin off his nose. He's just curious is all. He's read about the Night Marchers, and knows they'll be no problem for him as long as he stays away from their sacred grounds and doesn't do anything to call upon their wrath. He's seen Poltergeist, he knows the rules, and he will not break them. Dad even warned him about them.

Night Marchers are no joke in the hunting world. They're scary motherfuckers, but from what he's heard, the Native Hawaiians know how to deal with them and struck up some kind of truce with them. Much like the native monsters in mainland America. Hunters stay away from tribal lands. It'll just piss off the monster or spirit even more.

Dean tossed his bags into his..."car" and drove to a nearby cheap hotel. He payed for a week's lodging and got to work on taking out the ghosts killing tourists and transplants. There is at least seven different hauntings going on the island. The only downside is they're widespread. There's three here in Honolulu but the other four are all over the island. Damn, it just might take him a week to get rid of them. This is why there needs to be hunters in Hawaii. He doesn't even want to know if there are more hunts on the other islands.

He doesn't have the time or money to take on such an endeavor. Next time.

A flicker of guilt blossomed but he doggedly ignored it. The Hawaiians have been dealing with their own ghouls and monsters since before colonization, they can handle their own spookies, and don't need him to be their White Knight.

Note to self: Don't watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer before going to bed.

The closest hunt Dean found is in Honolulu central business district at a condo. Weird but not undoable. He's just going to have to get creative with his cover stories. Which one should he do? Pest control? Gas inspector? Electrician?

Electrician. If it is a ghost then it will be messing with the lights and thermostat. Luckily people are prone to making up excuses and believing them when confronted with the paranormal, and won't question his explanation of why, in Hawaii, it's all of a sudden cold enough for them to see their breath. He's immensely grateful their gullibility in his line of work. Of course there are those who believe but most of the time they'll keep it hush-hush for fear of being viewed as crazy or insane.

He loves those people. They make his job so much easer.

Maybe he'll just keep up the electrician facade for all the hauntings. It's a more believable cover than gas inspector. Pest control would be his second option. Or, and his dad would kill him if he found out, he pretended to be an amateur ghost hunter. It's the truth but most people would think he's crazy but would allow him access to their home. He'd be able to use his homemade EMF reader without hiding it or explaining it off.

Dad wouldn't have to know.

Dean grinned suddenly. He's going to be a ghost hunter. He just needs to go by some camera equipment to make his cover more believable. He's not going to take out the ghosts yet, not until he has a definite ID on them, and then he'll look up where the ghosts were buried. God, he hates research.

Research is for little nerds and revenge obsessed fathers, not a handsome knight.

Dean let out a giggle. Okay, maybe sleep first.

No sooner did Dean's head hit the pillow he was out like a light, and didn't wake up until the next morning. He stretched then grimaced. Take off the belt next time genius, he berated himself. Oh, ow. He took off the belt and just lied there for a second before tumbling off into the shower. He's got a lot of work today.

When he drove by the beach, he gave it a wistful look, and wished he was there with all the practically nude laidies and gentlemen. Dean let out a bark of laughter as he remembered his dad finding out he was bi.

He was a freshman making out with a senior at school when his dad showed up early to pick him up. The look on his father's face had him simultaneously biting his lip to keep from laughing and running for the hills. He dad snapped out of his daze, stalked up, not to him like he thought he was, but to the senior and growled at him to leave. His dad stared at him then cuffed him on the head. "He's eighteen, boy. Pick someone closer to your age."

Dean stood there flabbergasted for a second before breaking out into a huge smile and practically skipped after his dad. His dad caught his eye and allowed a small smile to flit across his face before assuming his usual no-nonsense demeanor. He was terrified his dad would have disapproved of his sexuality but John Winchester proved him wrong.

His dad may be a bastard most of the time but when it mattered, Dean saw glimpses of the old John Winchester, the man he was before his mother died. The man who used to take Dean on rides with him and to parks, who taught him t-ball, and how to ride a bike. He misses that dad, more than he misses his mom.

His life wouldn't be so bad if his mom had died from natural causes or the fire was actually a product of faulty wiring. At least his dad wouldn't be so hell-bent on finding the demon who took his beloved wife away. His dad wouldn't leave him and Sammy alone for weeks on end or teaching them how to shoot a gun or throw knives instead of how to shoot a basketball or throw a baseball. His dad wouldn't be so lost.

Dean had every faith that if his mother had died a different way, sure his dad would have been lost for a while, but he would have pulled himself together for him and Sam, and they'd be a happy, normal family. Dad would have been proud of Sam getting a full ride to Stanford and even celebrated the occasion.

A sad sigh escaped him before he could stop it. That's his one wish, as horrible as it is, that his mother died from a non-supernatural fire. He might actually be in college or working with dad at his garage. He could have a girlfriend or boyfriend.

He wouldn't be afraid of the night.

It's funny how his wish isn't for his mother to still be alive but for her to have died differently. That's so many shades of fucked up.

A car honking behind him has Dean jumping then cursing. He waved a hand in apology to the car behind him and continued his journey to the condo suffering from a spooky. The Honolulu traffic is something to be desired. Not even L.A. traffic is as bad...well, on a good day. He really hates hunting in the cities. Too many witnesses and bad traffic could impede a quick getaway.

Not everyone appreciates him saving their life by burning the body of a loved one. Hey, if it truly was a loved one, then they wouldn't be haunting their ass.

Dean met the lovely couple who own the condo, and knew right off the bat his dealing with a Woman in White. Fun. God, he hates them, and he hates the men who create them. Keep it in your pants, buddy! Now because of the douchebag in front of him, he has to deal with a scorned woman. Though looking at the pictures, he can kind of understand why the man cheated, dude's still a dick, but there's a hint of understanding. What he doesn't get is why the guy just didn't divorce his wife if he was sick of her? Stupid.

The new girlfriend flirted with him and he couldn't help himself and he flirted back. The douche looked annoyed but he really couldn't have an opinion on the matter. Woman in White.

"What is it?" Miss Pretty Brown Eyes asked, batting her faux eyelashes at him.

Dean smothered a smirk and answered seriously, "I believe it is a Woman in White."

"A what?" Douchebag asked loudly, voice tinged with disbelief.

"A Woman in White. It's a ghost of a wife, girlfriend, lover whose been betrayed by their significant other," he replied, hiding a grin at the dude's freaked out and guilty expression. He's tempted to let his wife get at him but alas, he can't.

Miss Pretty Brown Eyes frowned in confusion. "But why is she haunting us? Dave just got out a horrible marriage when we met."

Dean stared at her. Wow. "Then maybe he wasn't actually out of the marriage."

The lightbulb went off and her expression darkened. She spun around and slapped Dave the Douchebag. "You lying bastard! You told me you were divorced! How could you do this?"

Dave staggered back from the blow and tried to explain but Pretty Eyes wouldn't hear it. Shouting, "It's over!" as she stormed out of the condo.

Douchebag glared at him before rushing after her.

Dean shrugged. Dick deserved it. Well, now that he has a positive ID, Dean could now go dig up the grave to salt and burn the body, instead of spending hours inside a dusty old library archive trying to find clues to what ghost is haunting this particular condo. Talking to the husband was just a precaution and for him to have a spot of fun.

He may bitch about research but he can knuckle down and get shit down when he needs to. He's actually better than dad and Sam when he's on his own.

Dean found the grave, dug it up, salted, then burned the body with no trouble. Thank God. He wasn't looking forward to being flung around by a pissed off ghost, especially when he had plans tonight. He's either taking a beautiful woman back to his room tonight or a good-looking man, it just depends on who catches his eye while he's out in the club. Maybe he'll have a threesome. He hasn't had one in a while. They're college kids, it's all about experimentation, and all that jazz.

He went back to his room, cleaned up, and headed out to the nearest club. It had an older crowd, not that Dean minded, but it wasn't what he was looking for. Not tonight at least. Maybe next time.

He was just about to leave when tall, dark, and most definitely handsome walked in. More like stormed in. Anybody with eyes can tell he's pissed off about something and looking for a release. There were a few who were interested in helping him but most looked away, avoiding eye contact. Dean found himself sauntering up to Mister Dangerous and sitting down next to him. He nodded at the older man and ordered a beer. He gestured to the other man, who nodded and asked for a double.

"Thanks," he muttered after downing half the drink.

"No prob, man," Dean said with a clap on a unsurprisingly well-defined back. He had to fight the urge to caress it.

Mister Dangerous gave him a knowing look.

"Want to head out out?" he asked bluntly.

Dean pretended to consider it before nodding his head. They finished their drinks and Dean followed the older man out to his blue Chevy Silverado, grateful he walked instead of drove, he unlocked the truck and gestured for Dean to hop in. If Dean didn't know how to defend and handle himself, he'd be worried about getting into a stranger's car, but as it is, he does and he can kick anyone's ass, including Tall, Dark, and Dangerous. Though judging by the way the guy carries himself and his movements, Dean knew should they fight, it'd be a close call.

And he wasn't sure if it would turn out in his favor.

It just made it that much hotter to be honest.

They pulled up to a nice house, almost a bungalow, and TDD strode up to the door to unlock it. Dean was right behind him. He barely managed to close the door behind him when TDD pushed him against it and practically devoured his mouth. He froze for a second then his brain kicked in and he gave as good as he got. Their tongues fought for dominance before Dean conceded and allowed the older man to ravage his mouth. He went pliant under the older man and it seemed to spur him on.

He tore off Dean's jacket then his shirt and started kissing and sucking across his neck and all the way down to his hip bones, where he spent a lot of the time marking him right above where his jeans ended. So should he stretch or go shirtless, everybody would see and know he'd been marked, claimed. It shouldn't have made him smile or him harden even more but it did.

Dean let out a groan.

He's been dominated before but never so completely. The older man refused to let him move, made him lie there while he took what he wanted, which was mostly him marking Dean, taking ownership for the night, and Dean really didn't mind. He knew, instinctively, he could trust the other man.

When he had Dean stripped down until he was naked and sprawled out on the man's bed, he finally started undressing, placing a hand on Dean's chest to keep him lying there when he tried to help. He let out a small whine but complied. It was erotic watching the older man undress, revealing a toned body, and tattooed biceps. His muscles rippled as he stalked closer to Dean like he was prey and planned on devouring him, he had to bite back a moan at the sight. His hand strayed south to relieve some pressure but the older man growled at him and he quickly pulled his hand back up.

Holy shit that was hot.

He moved until he was hovering over Dean, barely touching, his breath ghosting over Dean's. It took everything in Dean to buck up into him or lean forward for a kiss. They stared at one another for a couple of minutes then ever so slowly the older man lowered his body onto Dean's, letting his weight settle on him, and rested there for a second. Dean was close enough to see glimpses of green and gold inside his blue orbs.

"Name," he growled. Dean felt it travel up their chests.

He gave in and bucked up into the older man. "D-Dean," he gasped out.

The older man gave a pleased rumble and replied. "Steve."

Steve's hand traveled down Dean's sides and he fought to keep from laughing at the sensation. He spread Dean's legs apart and settled inbetween them. Before he could stop himself, Dean grinded against him, and Steve growled a warning. He whined but stopped moving.

A dark smile graced his face, promising pain if he disobeyed. Dean whined again. He jerkily nodded his head and Steve's smile turned coy. He leaned down and once again started kissing Dean's neck down to his chest, stomach, thighs, lips ghosting over his cock, and Dean bit his lip to keep from moving. He saw Steve smirk at him as he laved and bit Dean's thighs, every now and then his breath would hit his cock. Dude wasn't doing much but it was driving Dean crazy.

He about cried when he felt Steve's mouth close over his leaking cock. Strong hands kept his hips down as Steve licked and sucked up and down his length. His eyes popped open when he felt a cool finger at his entrance. He lifted up to his elbows so he could see precisely what Steve was doing. His rolled to the back of his head when Steve found his prostate and he flopped back down. He desperately wanted to wrap his fingers into Steve's hair but he figured if he did, he'd get another warning. Dude is in control.

He wondered where he got the lube then another finger was added into the mix and Dean thought fuck it, don't matter.

By the time Steve deemed him open, Dean was a writhing mess, and he whimpered when Steve took his fingers away, missing them already though he knew what was coming would be even better. He heard Steve tear open a condom wrapper and he unconsciously opened his legs wider. Steve growled at the sight. He quickly rolled the condom on, lined up, and pushed in.

There was slight resistance and Steve bit his lip to keep from thrusting the rest of the way in. He ever so slowly slid inside Dean until he bottomed out, making both men moan. He waited for Dean to adjust before he started pounding into the younger man. He needed a release and Dean volunteered. He gripped Dean's hips with bruising strength as he fucked Dean as hard as he could, judging by the sounds spilling from the younger man's lips, he approved whole-heartedly of the treatment. Steve knew he wasn't going to last long. To keep from coming too soon, he used his right hand to tilt Dean's head to kiss and captured Dean's lips in a bruising kiss. He felt Dean's hands ghost over his back before returning to the bed where he had the comforter in a death grip.

"Touch me," he ordered. The younger man gave a mewl at the order and did as told. Steve gave a particularly hard thrust at the sound and the quick obedience from Dean, getting off from it.

Dean hands glided over the older man's back, feeling the well-defined back muscles ripple with each thrust. He wrapped his legs tighter around Steve and gave a cry when the older man lifted his right leg higher, each thrust now hitting his prostate. He gripped the Steve's biceps as the older man pounded into him. He orgasm took him by surprise and he let out a sharp cry as he clenched down on Steve and rode out the sensations.

Steve felt his own orgasm rip out of him when Dean came, his body locking around Steve and he was a goner.

His hips still moved on their own accord, riding out the waves of pleasure and by the look of Dean's face, he didn't mind either. When he finally pulled out, the younger man whined at the loss, his dick twitched in interest at the sound. If only he was a few years younger.

He tore off the condom, tied it off, and tossed it into the trash. He then got out of bed on jelly legs and grabbed a warm towl and cleaned Dean off then himself before flopping back into bed. Dean pulled him into another kiss then draped himself over him. Steve carded his hand through Dean's hair who practically purred at the sensation. He gave Dean a quick kiss on the forehead before succumbing to sleep.

When Steve woke up the next morning he found himself curled around Dean. He saw the bite marks and bruises across Dean's body and before he could stop himself, he grinded against him. The tip of his cock catching on Dean's hole, and it took everything in him for Steve to not just thrust in and take him again, to own him. He knew he was a possessive bastard but this was getting ridiculous. Dean is just a one-night stand, nothing more, but he can already feel the need to claim the younger man as his and his alone grow. Before he thought better of it, he grabbed the lube and started prepping Dean for another round.

When he finished opening Dean, he looked up to see a sliver of green watching with amusement. He gave the younger man a sharp smile before rolling him onto his stomach and pulling up him to his knees. Dean went without complaint, pliant in his hands, and Steve let out a possessive growl at that. He quickly rolled on a condom, briefly thinking it'd be better without one but he wasn't stupid, and once again slid inside Dean with little to no resistance. How is he even real?

And just like last night, Steve took Dean hard and fast.

Dean once again came without being touched and Steve managed to last a few minutes longer before surrendering to his own orgasm, moaning as Dean milked him, coaxing every last drop from him. He collasped on top of the younger man who bore it with ease. He pulled so Dean fell to the side of the prominant wet spot and curled around him, kissing the nape of his neck and shoulders.

He let out a happy sigh.

After an hour of snuggling, they both reluctantly rolled out of bed and into the shower where Steve once more laid claim to Dean, wanting the younger man to remember him for a long time after they've departed. Just before Dean got dressed, Steve dropped to his knees and licked, sucked and bit his hip bones, leaving a mark for all to see that Dean was his. The younger man blushed but looked pleased with the action. A part of Steve hoped it meant they'd do this again. Soon.

Dean waved goodbye to Steve, who dropped him off at his hotel, and watched him drive away. Damn. Now that was a fun night. He was actually sad when their time together was over. He mentally slapped himself. No. None of that. You got a job to do, remember?

Six more hauntings. Easy.

Dean quickly changed clothes and drove to the library for a fun afternoon of lively research. He snorted, he can't even lie to himself.

Every time he saw himself in the mirror, a flash of heat pooled in his stomach at the memories of how he got every mark, and he had to take some time for himself before going back out to the library for more research.

He's got the names of each ghost, where they're haunting and who.

Now his head hurts and his eyes feel like he washed them with salt. Oh god, how did Sam and dad do this all the time? Now he's starving. He remembered seeing a shrimp truck down by the beach on the way here. Good as any place to get some grub.

The truck is owned by a big man named Kamekona and his cousin Flippah. Luckily, Dean is an amazing actor and has a brilliant poker face when he heard their names. Seriously? He knew coming here he would come across some odd culture mores but the names for the people around here? A little weird. More than a little weird.

He ordered spicy shrimp with rice and dug into the surprisingly good food. At the big man's cajoling, he bought a cherry shaved ice as well, they're like snow cones but way better. He was almost done when a silver Chevy Camaro rolled up and a short blonde guy got out of the passenger seat, waving his hands around while yelling at the driver. Dean smirked at the poor schmuck who was on the receiving end of the man's lecture.

The poor schmuck turned out to be Tall, Dark, and Dangerous himself, Steve. Dean choked on his frozen treat. You've got to be fucking with me, Dean thought. Then he noticed the gun and badge. Jesus fucking Christ he fucked a cop. More like got fucked by a cop, came the slightly hysterical thought.

Dean ducked his head and hoped they would walk right past him.

They did.

...Until they didn't. His table was the only other one open. They asked if they could sit with him, he nodded his head without looking up, and tried to eat his shaved ice without getting a brain freeze. Luckily, they only payed attention to each other as they dug into their food. Three more cops showed up, two asians and a brunette. Dean groaned internally.

He got up as a show of gentlemanly manners. The two ladies cooed at him and he fought the urge to blush. Just when he thought he managed to get away unnoticed by his bedmate last night, his name was called with the slight air of disbelief.

"Dean?"

Drat. Caught. He plastered on a confused expression and turned around to see Steve standing up from the table.

"Oh, hi," he said with an awkward wave.

A smile grew on Steve's face as he finished getting up from the picnic table and made his way over to him. He saw Steve's eyes rove over his body, focusing on his neck where he could see a slight hint of the hickey his collar couldn't quite cover up, his eyes darkened slightly, and his smile turned pleased. Dean actually blushed under his hungry gaze. Without thinking he tilted his head in invitation and Steve growled at the submission.

A loud, "Steve!" brought them back to themselves, Dean ducked his head and Steve reluctantly stepped away.

"Who's your friend?" Blondie asked.

"Dean," he replied, holding out his hand in greeting.

"Nice to meet you, Dean," Blondie said. "I'm Danny. The guy with the amazing cheekbones is Chin Ho Kelly, the beautiful women are Kono Kalakaua and Catherine Rollins. You already know, McGarrett here."

Dean nodded his head. "Yeah, we, uh, we met yesterday."

The smiles on their faces turned knowing and Steve flushed but still bore a pleased expression.

"So you're the one who brought Steve here out of his black mood," the asian girl, Kono, said with a pleasant smile.

Dean frowned but nodded his head cautiously. He banged a cop and now he's meeting his cop friends. Awesome. Dad would throw a shit fit and slap him so hard upside the head he'd still feel it ten years from now.

"Yeah, McGarrett here has been a dark cloud hanging around our office for a week now," Chin Ho Kelly divulged with a grin.

Steve ducked his head and blushed. Dean smirked at his embarrassment.

"Then today," Danny the Blond chirped, "he comes into the office, we're all bracing ourselves for his annoyingly persistant black mood, and he strolls in with the biggest smile on his dopey face. At first we thought we were all having a mass hallucination, but then he asked us why we weren't working on the cold cases assigned to us and we knew it was real and he's our Steve and not a pod person."

Dean let out a huff of laughter at Danny's story. He tilted his head towards Steve, he turned redder, and he shot Dean a bashful grin. It made Dean's stomach flip at the sight and his heart twisted.

"Well, I'm glad I helped and it was nice meeting you guys, but I got to go," Dean said with an apologetic smile. He felt a brief flicker of guilt at Steve's disappointed look. Impulsively, Dean stepped forward, stopping just shy of touching the older man, and waited.

He didn't have to wait long. Steve used his belt loop to pull him so they were flushed together. Steve nuzzled him until he exposed his neck and started laving and biting it. He moved Dean's shirt aside and got to work refreshing his claim mark on Dean. Once he was satisfied with his work, he then shifted his attention to capturing the younger man's lips as another form of claiming. When he pulled away, Dean looked positively debauched.

His lips were red and slick. Steve fought the urge to recapture them. He took a step back and admired his work. A primal, pleasured shiver ran down his spine at the sight, and when he looked to his friends, a possessive growl escaped when he saw Catherine ogling his Dean.

She startled and ducked her head in deference.

Dean nudged him and he tore his pissed off gaze from his ex-girlfriend.

"Jealous much?" he asked jokingly and Steve nodded his head. Dean was taken aback at his honesty. "Oh," he said and blushed. He's never had someone get jealous or possessive over him before. He kind of likes it. It's new.

Steve smiled and gave him a chaste kiss.

"Come over tonight?" he whispered to Dean.

Dean bit back a groan at the thought of a repeat. He nodded his head and Steve gave him a goofy smile in return. He let Dean go and stepped back to his friends and his food.

Dean gave them a wave of goodbye and hopped into his poor excuse of a car. He still has plans of making Bobby pay. He's still coming up with suitable punishments for the old bastard. First up, he's got Tanith Ygraine to take care. He's been terrorizing a family that moved into his home where he was murdered by his partner. Fucker was a meth dealer. As far as Dean's concerned, he got what was coming to him.

Then later, he's going back to Steve's for another round. Dean shivered in excitement and anticipation.