A/N: OH MY GOD THERE ARE NO WORDS FOR HOW LONG IT HAS BEEN...sorry.

This chapter hasn't been betaed so any and all mistakes are mine...

Chapter 5

Dean left at 4:39 and didn't look back.

He had waited until he was sure everyone was asleep, waited until the apartment fell under that unnatural stillness before he rose, wincing, from the bed. He had known that coming here was a bad idea and more than anything he wanted to keep Eliot safe, protect him from the horrible truth that had taken over Dean's life.

At one point in the night Dean had been sure he would stay, spend some time with his old hunting buddy and get to know his new family. Spend time laughing and joking at each other's expense, spend time telling stories and working together once more.

He had been drifting to sleep, the pain and exhaustion finally bubbling up and over his body like a slow boiling kettle when it had happened.

It was quiet at first, so soft and muted that Dean had dismissed the sound as noise from the darkened street below. But the sound came once more. This time Dean could not mistake it for anything other than that which it was. It was a deep rumbling. A soft rasping. It was painfully slow in the way it built, rising, deepening until it crashed with a stinging kiss against Dean's skin.

The hellhound howled balefully, keening as if it was pained by the fact it could only survey its quarry and not savage it as the beast so dearly desired. Dean froze, muscles tightening, spine straightening as he realised that his demonic companion had once more returned to sit its harrowing vigil over him. But something felt different tonight, the air seemed cooler, the shadows darker as the hellhound stepped more carefully into the room. It appeared, as always from the darkest corner, a great hulking figure of a dog, a yawning black emptiness where it's body stood on the ratty carpet. Only tonight it's seemed discontented by its vigil. It needed to do more than stand and howl and snarl, tonight it hungered for more. Tonight it moved closer, the muscled body undulating as it lumbered to Dean's bed.

Dean watched as the beast put its forepaws on the bed, the great feet oily and steaming as if they were great burning coals. Dean watched as it slowly pushed itself onto the bed over him, felt the bed dip under the hulking weight as it inched closer. Anticipation sat sickly and heavily in his throat, making it burn and clench as the beast finally stood atop him, grinning down with impossibly wide jaws. A bloody nose touched the point between his eyes and Dean whimpered.

He would not look upon its face.

He would not look upon its face.

God please, he would not look upon its face.

Dean waited, eyes clenched shut, waited as the thing snarled, harsh and grating over him.

Dean waited, breathing in the beast's hot, rank breath. It smelt of death and decay and sorrow and tasted just as poisonous.

But still Dean waited, eyes clenched shut, waited and refused to look.

Something hot and wet dropped onto his face and Dean flinched, but finally, finally it receded. It left the room with a final snarl, brushing its oily, slick fur against Dean's bare thighs, a last, careful reminder that when it came to collect its prize, it would claim Dean entirely.

Dean shuddered at the memory and returned to the present. He had been foolish unthinking it would not follow him here. And while Dean knew that the hellhound was unable to harm his friends, Dean knew that supernatural entities were drawn to him now the deal had been struck.

Dean sighed softly. He hoped that this would be the last time he saw his old friend - Dean did not want to return, hoped that when he finally did heave his twisted soul back to the surface his family would be long dead.

Shaking and silent, Dean left at 4:39 and didn't look back.

Eliot was mad for a whole week after Dean had made his getaway during the night. No one could work out how he had managed to sneak past all five of them when he had lost so much blood and was so badly injured. Needless to say, Eliot was mad.

Now when Parked said "mad", she didn't mean the shouting, throwing things and sulking kind of mad, oh no. It was much worse than that. Eliot was...quiet; he didn't growl or cuss, he didn't frown or glower and he most certainly did not cook...for a whole week. So needless to say Parker was feeling a little down herself. She had spent all of her time trying to cheer Eliot up, had done everything in her power to make him happy again...or whatever it was that Eliot was usually and now she was running out of ideas.

She frowned again at her notebook, scribbling black pen with some force over her latest plan. It simply wasn't good enough. It wouldn't work. It needed to be bigger, better and include more lemurs, but where would she get them at such short notice? Perhaps-

"Why don't you just call Dean?" Sophie said suddenly from behind her.

Parker jolted in her seat and swivelled to face the other woman, "What?" She asked blandly.

"Call Dean, let him know that his little disappearing act and pitiful goodbye note has bloody well gone and broken our friendly neighbourhood hitter." She said with folded arms. Dean's note had been pretty terrible, written on a crumpled yellow paper napkin from the kitchen:

Stuff to do, chicks to bang. I've got new scars to show off and bro-hugs cannot sustain me.

Catch you later and thanks for the whiskey.

D.

Sophie sighed at Parker's still blank look, and sat beside her. "I'll do it if you want."

"Do what?" She said, unsure what Sophie was talking about.

"Call Dean, tell him to fix Eliot before we all go stark raving mad!" She moaned dramatically.

"Um, okay but I don't think Dean is a doctor." Parker said seriously, "I mean he seems to know a lot about patching people up but-"

Sophie rolled her eyes and cut her off, "Parker, I just mean, Dean might be able to talk some sense back into him or at least snap him out of his pissy mood."

Parker widened her eyes, "Oh," she said softly. "No, I want to talk to him."

Sam was typing furiously when the phone rang.

"Dean!" He bellowed, not looking away from the screen. When there was no answer and the ridiculously annoying ACDC kept spewing from the phone's deceptively small speakers Sam yelled again, "Dean answer your fucking phone or its going out the window!"

"Dude, chill. Can't a man sleep in piece?" Dean yelled back. He stumbled into the doorway and glowered at Sam, "Dude it's right next to you." He said, unbelieving.

"Dean, one, it's your phone and two, it's 3 in the afternoon, you've been asleep for like, 12 hours, whereas I-" here Sam had to raise his voice even further to be heard as the ringtone reached a particularly extravagant guitar solo, "I have been working to find a way to stop you from becoming a hellhound's chew toy!"

"Oh bitch, bitch, bitch, aren't you a ray of sunshine in the morning?"

"Afternoon Dean! Did you forget the fact you've been sleeping for 12 hours?" Sam yelled before muttering viciously under his breath "asshole".

"Dickwad!" Dean bellowed back as Dean ambled away and the music finally, finally stopped.

"Thank fuck for that." Sam muttered, fingers flying over the keyboard.

"Whoever this is it better be good, I could be sleeping right now." Dean muttered tiredly.

"Dean whoever-you-are Winchester you've broken our hitter and I demand a full refund or I'm going to track you down and steal your face!"

"What the hell? Parker, is that you?" Dean asked, slumping back onto the bed, crossing his legs at the ankles. He stared at the ceiling and tried not to feel sick.

"Eliot's mad, like super mad, like super I'm-never-going-to-cook-ever-again mad. Fix him right now or I'm going to steal your face and make it into a pair of shoes for Sophie!" She repeated huffing.

Dean blinked as he tried to process all of that information. Choosing to ignore her last threat as it was a fucking horrifying idea, Dean instead, said with a whine, "Ah man, he's stopped cooking. He's so pissed at me."

"It's all your fault." She said pitifully. "If he's broken forever its all your fault and I'll never forgive you even if you did have a nice butt."

Dean laughed once, a harsh sound before he sighed and rubbed his mouth.

He paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully he tried to explain, "Look, I know it doesn't make sense, and I know it isn't fair, but it wasn't safe for you or your team to have me there. I appreciate everything you all did for me that night but I had to go. I had to."

"Eliot could have protected you from whoever is after you. That's his job, it's what he does!"

"Not from this. Not from-" He stopped, broke off and swore quietly. "Parker, look I am sorry but there's nothing I can do now. Just...will you tell him I'm sorry and that...that I'm okay?"

There was a long pause and all Dean could hear was Parker's soft breathing. There was a slow inhale and then a small "okay" before the line went dead.

Well, Dean thought, fuck.

A/N: So...yeah.