Death in the Mountains

Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters; I am making no money off them.


Sam and Dean were both asleep in a rough KOA cabin. Sam was finally able to convince Dean to take some of the painkillers for his ribs and was sleeping well for the first time in days, much to Sam’s relief. Dean even admitted that the sandwich stuff he bought wasn’t bad. Now all Sam needed to do was get him to eat some of the fruit and veggies.

Sam was dreaming. A slightly calloused hand rubbed across his chest while Sam trailed his fingers across his lover’s collar bone. Strong arms wrapped around Sam’s waist while a tongue gently lapped and sucked his nipples. Then he was pushed back on a soft bed while his blonde haired lover closed in for a passionate, deep kiss, which Sam eagerly returned. The blonde’s head kissed down his chin and to his throat, stopping and paid a great deal of attention to Sam’s neck, pausing to nibble, lick and suck. Sam’s cock was hard, throbbing with a gentle but growing urgency. His earlobe was sucked wet and then blown across, Sam moaned. He loved to have his skin licked and them blown on. A hand ghosted down across his chest and belly, pausing long enough to tease his nipples again. Sam squirmed, his nipples felt stiffer and harder than they had ever been before. The lips on his neck gently nipped down to his chest while a hand swirled through his pubic hair, careful not to touch his cock. Sam’s back arched off the bed as his nipples were nipped a bit harder. The hand playing with his pubic hair drifted to his cock. A light finger traced a finger over a bulging vein. Sam squirmed, gasping. “Please” he begged, and the hand gripped his cock loosely, barely touching as it teasingly fisted him. Sam whimpered, tears in his eyes as he desperately need relief. His balls were drawn up tight but his lover was agonizingly slow in bringing him to orgasm. He could feel a ridged cock rubbing into his thigh. Sam grabbed the cock, fisting it and hoping if he brought his lover off he would be given the relief he needed. For some reason Sam couldn’t touch himself. Suddenly the blonde moved, straddling his chest, ass towards him. Sam could see the back of his balls and the toned, well rounded double curves of his lover’s ass. “Please” Sam panted, needing to come, pleading with his lover. “Put a finger up my ass, Sam.” His lover demanded, his voice barely more that a whisper. “Suck on it first, get it good and wet.” Sam sucked his index finger, not realizing that licking his own fingers could be so sensual. His lover began his ghost fisting of his cock again. Sam sobbed as he began timidly rubbing his lover’s puckered brown rose. “Sam, Sam” his lover gasped “push it in, you won’t hurt me.” Sam gently pushed his finger about two inches into the ass in front of him, groaning at the thought of fingering a man’s ass. He was awarded by a firm squeeze on his cock. It only made the agony Sam was in worse as the hand went back to teasing his overwrought cock. “Push in deeper” his lover demanded, “you don’t get to come until I do.” Sam whimpered as he gently pushed his finger all the way into the lovely ass in front of him before slowly pumping. Sam couldn’t believe how incredibly hot the ass was around his finger. Sam was awarded with another firm hand for two pumps before it went back to teasing. Sam was sobbing uncontrollably now, in an agony of sexual arousal. He pumped his finger faster. “Add another one” The blonde’s head was close enough to his cock that Sam could feel his breath. Sam did as he was told, and after a few more pumps he felt a warm spurt on his chest and belly. Suddenly something warm, hot and wet surrounded his cock and sucked hard and fast. Sam arched as he came hard, spurting his own seed over his belly.

Sam woke with a start, feeling a sticky, warm sleeping bag on his stomach, the last of his intense orgasm flooding his senses.

He looked over at Dean to see if he was still asleep, and much to his relief he was snoring off his pain medications. He didn’t want to think about the jokes he would have to put up with if Dean knew. He was sure that it would provide Dean with months of material. Sam slipped out of his sleeping bag to find some paper towels and bottled water to get the worst of the mess cleaned up.

Sam was confused and upset. This was the second time in the past month that he’d dreamed about having sex with a man. Sam still loved Jessica. He was attracted to and enjoyed sex with women. He couldn’t become gay this late in his life, could he?

So why was he having dreams about men?

Sam finished cleaning up and sat down on the end of his bed, elbows on his knees. He scrubbed his face with his hands and raked his hair out of his eyes. He had been celibate since Jessica’s death. Even masturbating had been hard – how do you fantasize about your dead fiancée? Especially when fantasizing about anyone else still felt like a betrayal to Jessica.

Maybe that was the key. He was dreaming about men because it felt wrong to think about any woman sexually.

Sam relaxed at the thought. The dreams he was having were just a temporary release. As soon as he had healed enough from Jessica’s death it would stop.

At least he was getting some things figured out here at the campground. Sam was finally able to admit, at least to himself, that he had finally paid attention to his “spidey sense”. He thought the “nudge” he felt back in Gatlinburg was another job, but instead it took him someplace good. Maybe these psychic abilities weren’t all bad. It had landed them in a good situation for Dean to heal up so they could continue hunting. They were at a KOA campground on the Tennessee/North Carolina state line. The campground was owned by an older couple who were actually glad to have them here. Betsy and Jude Rice seemed like people who had never had a bad experience with anyone. They had certainly been kind to the two of them. Sam, unlike Dean, didn’t feel the need to make up elaborate lies. Sam told the Rice’s a carefully edited version of the truth. He gave their names as Sam and Dean Smith, and had paid cash for their first night at the campground. He didn’t want one of the credit card scams to come back on them before Dean was ready to leave. Sam told them Dean had gotten hurt while doing a job in Chattanooga, making it sound like they were construction workers and were low on funds.

Sam was surprised by the Rice’s response. They offered to let him do work around the campground in return for staying in one of the mini cabins for free. They had a small cabin with two beds, one electric outlet, a bare bulb overhead light and an air conditioner. Sam and Dean had to use the camp’s public showers and restroom, but since they were staying for free he wasn’t going to complain. There was even a small lobby with a television where he could dump Dean for the day while he did some work. Betsy Rice had brought them a home cooked meal a few times and checked on Dean throughout the day. Sam was unexpectedly enjoying his stay here.


The campground was right off of something called the Appalachia Trail. It was a hiking trail that ran from central Georgia to Maine along the Appalachian mountain chain. Hard core backpackers could make it in six months. Much of the campground business came because of the trail. People hiking often stopped here overnight, and tourists would come up in the autumn to see the leaves change. Sam could see why, the area was beautiful.

Sam grabbed a towel and clothes to slip out to the showers. There was a faint light in the east; he might as well stay up. Dean could call him on his cell when he woke up. Sam wanted to start work this morning before the worst heat of the day. He was going to be re-mulching trails in one of the more remote sections of the campgrounds. These trails were generally only used during the peak season for fall leaf viewing and tended to need a lot of work during the summer since they were only used a few months out of the year. Sam was enjoying the work, even though it meant chucking woodchips over a few miles of trail. At least Dean couldn’t say he was going soft while they were here.

Sam’s cell rang as he was getting out of the shower. Sam answered it quickly without bothering to look to see who it was.

“I’ll be right there.” He said before hanging up on him. After drying off quickly he got dressed and went back to the cabin.

Dean was trying not to wince as he was getting out of bed.

“Son of a bitch. When in the hell am I supposed to get over this? Why’d you run off and leave me?”

“I was taking a shower; you have a problem with that? I had my phone with me.
The doctor said it would take four to six weeks.” Sam was trying to keep his patience with Dean as his ribs healed. He knew Dean hated to be sick or injured. He was even more of a pain in the ass than usual, but Sam thought he had reason to be. Sam just wished he appreciated him more.

“I don’t know why you dragged me to the ER. I knew I was going to be OK.”

They had been over this so many times Sam decided not to bother answering. The reason he took him to the emergency room was because he was afraid the Uktena might have broken his back. Sam had spent over four hours in hell while he waited for Dean’s x-rays to come back.

“Just get up and shut up. I’ll take you over to the lobby. Betsy said she would feed you this morning.” That should perk Dean up a bit. Betsy was a wonderful cook and Dean had grown fond of Southern biscuits and gravy.

Sam waited until Dean got dressed. Despite his bitching, it had been over two weeks since Dean got hurt and he had improved a lot.

Walking into the lobby, they were hit with the wonderful smell of sausage gravy, buttered biscuits and eggs.

“Well, there y’all are!” Betsy said as they came in. “You boys sit down right there, I have your breakfast.” Betsy was a plump, grandmotherly woman with long white hair she kept in a braid. They saw much more of Betsy than they did Jude. Jude had cancer, but neither Sam nor Dean had ever heard either of them complain. They were rather frank and straight forward about the situation, making no attempts at self pity. One of the reasons they were so glad to have Sam and Dean here was because Jude was not up to the extensive summer maintenance the campground needed. They had three children, and although the family was close, all of them had moved away to places like Atlanta and Nashville for their careers. “They’ll be back” Betsy had told them, “mountain folks always come home”.

“You’re taking care of the back trails today?” Betsy asked as she set a glass of iced tea in front of Sam.

“Yes Ma’am” Sam answered with a smile. She was like the grandmother he never knew.

“Now you take care, it’s going to be a blazin’ hot day. You come back up here and refill that water bottle about every hour or two or I’ll be out looking for you. Dean honey, do you think you’re up to helping me with some of the office work today? It would be a mighty comfort if we could catch up on things before this fall, with Jude being sick and all. I’ll see about finding you a few dollars since Sam is taking care of your reckoning for the cabin.” Betsy’s wrinkled face showed a bit of worry for the first time Dean had ever seen.

“Yeah, sure. I’d be glad to.” Dean really was glad to help. He was about to lose his mind watching daytime television and Betsy was a sweet old lady who had been good to him and Sammy. He would have helped her even without the promise of the extra money. Betsy went bustling off into the camp’s office.

Sam leaned in close to Dean. “I have something to tell you if you promise not to give me a hard time about it.”

Dean pretended to consider this for a moment. “Have I ever made fun of you, Sammy?”

“Forget it.” Sam slumped back in his chair. Why did he even bother?

Dean was surprised. It must be something important to him for Sam not to start arguing with him about giving him attitude.

“Okay, I won’t make fun of you. What is it?”

“Nothing.” Dean saw he was going to have to try to coax it out of him. Damn it. He shouldn’t have snarked at him. Between Dad and Jessica dying and him dealing with maybe being a psychic he probably had a lot to talk about.

“Come on Sam, I’ll listen.”

“Never mind” Sam quickly finished his tea in a few swallows. “I want to get out there before it gets too hot. Tell Betsy thanks for me.” Sam walked out leaving half his breakfast.

Dean spent his morning sorting paperwork and doing some light filing, happy for something to do, even if he was worried and annoyed about Sam.

Sam came back a few times for water, but was in and out too quickly to try to talk with him. Dean was uncomfortable when he realized that Betsy noticed the tension between them. He wasn’t used to being around people for long periods of time because he was used to traveling constantly. Dean wanted to get back on the road soon. Even helping Betsy he was getting bored and missed the adrenaline rush of hunting.

A little after noon the front door opened and Betsy went out to greet their visitor.

“Well Martha! This is a nice surprise! What brings you up here today?”

“Just wanted to check on you and be sure that you are alright, Mrs. Rice. With the deaths in the area the Sheriff wants us to patrol the back roads when we get the chance. Is there anybody new staying here long term?”

Dean cautiously looked through the doorway to see a slim and very professional looking deputy. She certainly was not the stereotypical male hillbilly deputy with a paunch and a sweaty grin. Martha didn’t look like anyone he’d want to piss off. She looked like she was in her late thirties and carried herself with a quiet competence that he’d seen in very few law enforcement officers. Even though she was not in a potentially dangerous situation her hand still stayed near the gun in her holster. He quickly ducked back into the office. Avoiding law enforcement was always a good idea.

“We have a couple of young fellas staying here. Brothers who are passing though. The eldest got his self hurt doing construction work down in Chattanooga and his brother is working off their reckoning for a cabin. They’re good boys, Martha. I’m sure they don’t have anything to with that. They showed up two weeks after y’all found those kids from Lee College.”

Dean was almost holding his breath. Damn, just their luck to show up right when there were some murders in a small community. If Martha was an example of the rest of the Wake County sheriffs department they wouldn’t be dealing with a bunch of ignorant hillbillies.

There was a brief silence in the front.

“Can you tell me where I can find them so I can talk to them?” Martha asked. “Just to see if maybe they noticed anything?”

“Well, Dean is right here helping me in the office today. He stays up here most of the day because he has some broke ribs, poor dear. Sam is out re-mulching trails. Come on out Dean!”

Damn. Damn. Damn. Dean got up and walked out to the front, carefully exaggerating his injury in his walk and posture. He soon found himself face to face with Martha. She stared at him for a moment. He saw that her badge identified her as Deputy Ayers. Dean didn’t think he should call her by her first name.

“I’m sorry to hear that you were hurt. How are you doing?”

Dean only had a moment to decide how to handle her.

“Well, Deputy Ayers, thanks to Mrs. Rice’s cooking and the peace and quiet, I’m doing pretty good.” Dean smiled at Betsy, hoping the ‘respecting your elders’ act would help. “My little bro takes pretty good care of me, too.”

Martha looked him over again. Her first impression was that he was a smarmy little shit who was good looking and knew it. He was nervous and trying not to show it, but Martha thought Mrs. Rice was right. Anybody with half a brain would be nervous in his place. She could see him hustling pool or running small time scams, but this guy wasn’t a killer. His slight affection for Mrs. Rice seemed to be genuine, so Martha had no fear for her physical safety. By the way Dean was moving he was hurt, so he was being partially honest at least.

“I’d appreciate it if you and your brother could help keep an eye out up here.” Martha said reasonably. “If you didn’t already know, there have been two rape-murders in the area recently. Many of us would feel better if we knew that the Rice’s had someone up here they could depend on for a while”. Martha gave Dean a sharp look as if to say ‘Scam this old lady and I’ll fuck up your life’. Dean just nodded and smiled.

Before anyone could say anything else Sam burst through the door, sweating heavily with cuts and scrapes on his forehead and shoulders. He looked like he had fallen into a briar bush several times. Martha swung around and Betsy looked shocked. Sam’s eyes fell on Martha.

“Are you looking for her? I just saw her in the woods! I tried to follow her but I couldn’t find her!” Sam panted.

“Calm down, son." Martha instructed calmly. “What did you see?”

“A woman. She looked like she was half starved and was wearing a dirty old blue dress. Her hair was matted and she was scratched up. I tried to get her to stop, I told her I’d help her, but she just looked back at me and kept running. I tried following her but couldn’t find her and looked for what she might be running from, but I couldn’t find anything!” Sam was desperate, why wasn’t anyone doing anything?

Martha looked at him for a long moment, her face unreadable, as if she was trying to decide what to do. She glanced at Betsy, and the older woman returned her glance with a look that seemed to shout ‘I told you so’.

“I’ll take care of this.” Betsy said to Martha. Martha looked relieved. She patted Sam’s sweaty back and said “I’ll let Betsy take care of you. Get those cuts cleaned up; you don’t need to end up with an infection.” Martha walked out to her cruiser.

“Why isn’t anyone doing anything? Why isn’t she starting a search?” Sam was still panicked by his encounter.

“Calm down, son. There is not a thing neither you nor anybody else can do for that poor girl. Go sit down in the TV room and I’ll fetch something to eat and drink. Dean, there’s a first aid kit under the counter. Get him cleaned and bandaged up.” Betsy sounded firmer than either of the brothers had ever heard her. She bustled out of the office.

Sam was still sweating heavily and looked panicked. He was bleeding from various scrapes and cuts on his face, arms and shoulders. None of them looked like they needed stitches from what Dean could see. He wondered what had happened to his brother. He hadn’t seen him this shook up about anything since Sam was about 12. Dean dragged Sam into the bathroom and tried to start cleaning Sam up but he kept batting away his hands, asking why no one was doing anything. After spending a few moments fighting with him, Dean captured Sam’s face between his hands and made him look at him.

“Sam. Sam!” Dean shook his face a little to get his attention. “Chill out. You’re hurt. I don’t know what’s going on either, but you’ve got to calm down and let me look at you. Let me get your face cleaned up and then you can tell me. “ That shut Sam up long enough for Dean to get his face cleaned up and bandage a few deep cuts.

“Ok Sammy, what happened out there?”

“Just, I, well…” Sam trailed off, looking a bit dazed now that he had calmed down some.

“You saw a woman in a blue dress running, right?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, she kept looking back behind her. She was so scared and sad. I could feel it. She was hungry and so desperate. I think she was trying to get home. Something bad happened to her Dean! I know!” Dean paused at Sam’s outburst, trying to decide how to continue. He was saved from deciding when Betsy returned with a plate of sandwiches and a gallon of iced tea, calling for them to come back to the lobby.

“Now you tuck into that food.” Betsy said as she served Sam. “You didn’t eat half of your breakfast and that’s probably part of your problem. Drink up that tea, too.” She sat down at the table and looked at Sam with a gentle expression.

“What’s going on?” Dean asked as Sam began to eat. “Who’s the lady in the blue dress?”

Betsy evaded the question. “We’ll wait ‘til Sam’s had a few bites to eat.”

Sam had to admit he felt better as he ate. “Who is she?” Sam asked again.

Betsy seemed to consider his question for a moment.

“Her name is Katie Wyler, Sam” Betsy was very gentle with him, as if she were explaining a tragic truth to a young child. She reached out and took one of Sam’s hands.

“What do you know about spirits?” she asked softly. Sam jerked his hand away as if he’d been burned.

“What!” Dean gasped. Sam looked even paler under his tan.

“What are you saying?” Dean demanded.

“Now y’all don’t get so het up. This happens from time to time. There are some spirits that walk. Some folks call them ghosts. Neither Katie nor any other of the spirits hereabouts has ever harmed anyone, and she won’t hurt you, Sam. You have nothing to be afraid of. Sounds like you just have a touch of the Sight.” Betsy said all of this in a matter of fact manner. “That poor girl has been walking long a’ for you came here and she’ll be walking long after.”

Sam and Dean were stunned. They were so used to trying to convince people that monsters and ghost existed that the situation was surreal. They were sitting in a campground with an old lady that was telling them about ghosts!

Betsy misinterpreted their stares. “How about this, Sam, you go haul in the tools and I’ll give Dean some money for helping me. Then y’all go into town and see a movie and get a hamburger from Dent’s diner. If it still bothers you Sam, then you can go on up and talk with Nora Bonesteel. She knows about spirits and such.”