We are here celebrating Bobby's birthday. It seems strange celebrating a grizzled old Hunter's birthday like we're all five years old and I almost expect a huge possessed birthday cake complete with haunted candles to appear supernaturally in front of us. But here we all sit - my father, Pastor Jim, Caleb, Joshua, Ellen and Missouri. We are grouped around two round tables near to the stage, but positioned so that we can see all the exits - old habits die hard. We are all drinking beer and our third pitcher has just arrived, courtesy of a pretty red-haired waitress. Caleb orders a fourth pitcher to save time and flirts outrageously with the waitress who blushes bright red at his whispered suggestions. Pastor Jim slaps him on the back of the head and we all laugh at the pout on Caleb's face.

It's weird and surreal. We all hunt things that go bump in the night, have seen things that most people could never dream of, but here we are sitting around tables, smiles on our faces and beer in our hands toasting Bobby's birthday. Even my father is laughing at Caleb's antics. It's been a long time since I heard his deep laugh and I let the sound wash over me for a moment. I shiver at the normalcy stifling the inane urge to giggle but somehow at the same time I find myself wishing that I could capture the moment forever. Wish that I could freeze the moment in time so that I can re-visit the warmth, the camaraderie and the friendship all over again. Moments like this are all too brief for all of us and I want to cherish every minute. I grin at Bobby and salute him with my bottle of beer. He grins back before turning to Joshua and starts to talk about his newest hunting dog.

I turn slightly and glance at Dean in the dimness. The flickering light casts shadows across his face muting his angular features, making him look younger, almost boyish. In the dim light Dean looks softer around the edges somehow, less the hunter and more the child I remember so vividly. He is half-slouched in his chair, his lithe body relaxed, a happy smile on his face and a bottle of beer clutched in one hand. His eyes flicker around the table taking everything in and I know he is letting the happiness wash over him, cherishing the time spent with friends and our father. Dean, for once, is at peace with himself and the world.

He is so beautiful and I love him with all my heart. Dean is my everything. The air I breathe. The sky I gaze up at and the ground I feel beneath my feet. He surrounds me with his very soul, his love, his security. His green eyes flick towards me and he smiles. The warm genuine smile that he saves for me and me alone. I beam back at him like a silly schoolboy in love.

I know I am blessed by having him at my side. Dean came crashing back into my life, taking my breath away with his constant motion and energy. Stripping away the walls of my grief and loneliness at Jessica's death, he selflessly offered me himself. The years apart suddenly disappeared and he was my brother all over again. He then became my best friend and then he shyly, and unexpectedly, offered me his love. And suddenly it was so obvious to me and if I had been able to, I would have kicked myself hard. I had been agonising over my non-brotherly feelings for him for years, feelings that I had pushed down deep and ignored pretending that my heart didn't know what it was talking about, pretending that it didn't thud loudly in my chest every time he came close to me. My father had given me my opportunity and I had run away from hunting and my father but honestly I knew that I had also run away from Dean and the love I felt for him.

I stared at Dean for what seemed forever. It was the greatest, and yet simplest, gift that I had ever been offered and it left me speechless for a moment. I watched every possible expression flash in the green depths of his eyes and still I stared not able to believe what he was saying, what he was offering. Finally I came to my senses and gathered all my courage, and all my hopes and dreams. I could see them clearly laid out before me - in Dean. So before Dean could turn away from me, I opened my arms to him, a simple gesture in which I tried to say everything, everything that I wanted to say to Dean and couldn't find the right words. It must have worked because with an uncharacteristically shy smile Dean stepped into my hesitant embrace without fear, claiming me and surrounding me with his gentle and cleansing love. I have never looked back since that moment.

Our love is a secret. A secret we keep from everyone knowing that they would not understand or accept our love for each other. We both know that the world, even the violent hunting world, is a cruel unforgiving place and our fear of being forced apart forever by our father or others that would be repulsed by our love keeps us silent, makes even Dean discreet when we are around other people. It hurts to keep our love concealed when we want to shout it from the rooftops but we both know that the price would be too high - being apart would kill us slowly.

Our love is hidden from others but when we are alone on the road - just me, Dean, the Impala and classic rock - we firmly shut out the cruel world and its short-sighted beliefs that our love is disgusting and wrong and wrap the love we feel around each other like a warm blanket that soothes, caresses and nurtures. Sometimes it's just simple things - a touch of hands or my hand on Dean's thigh as he drives or Dean's hand clasping mine under the table of a diner we have stopped at or the sharing of an ice-cream cone or a coffee because we only have enough money for one between us.

I smile to myself. Memories of our afternoon of love making torment my mind and make me feel hot and flustered. I can almost hear Dean whispering that he loves me over and over as I thrust into his body filling him as we lose ourselves in the ecstasy, the passion and the love that connects us, making us whole, as though we are one person, not two. In my head I can hear Dean whisper my hated nickname, Sammy, but instead of being irritated I imagine Dean's hot breath flickering across my heated skin like a warm caress. Sammy he breathes over and over as I claim and mark him as mine. Sammy says so much. In Dean-speak, it says I love you always. I grin to myself again.

I groan inwardly at the use of my nickname and where my thoughts were as he spoke to me. I can't help myself as I blush hoping that the dim lights hide my red face from our companions. Dean directs his best cocky grin at me, a mischievous glint in his green eyes, as he takes a casual sip of his beer. I sense he knows what I was thinking about. He smirks again as he glances quickly around the table before leaning close to me again. "Just you and me. Alone later in our bed," he whispers.

I grin at him again. "Damn straight," I mimic one of his favourite sayings.

He returns the grin with a waggle of his eyebrows before turning away to watch the band come onto the small stage to polite applause from the audience. The lights dim even more as the music starts and I am surprised to find that Intensity are not the loud rock band I thought they would be, but a country and western band whose gentle melodies do not offend my ear drums. A favourite of Bobby's, Pastor Jim whispers in my ear and I look at Bobby in a new light.

Caleb orders yet more beer and we all sit and listen as the band plays their first set, and I find myself tapping my foot in time to the music. I look around again - people have been drifting towards the side of the stage giving their requests to the band's manager and Ellen tells me that the band's second set of music is made up from requests from the audience.

I nod before excusing myself to visit the bathroom. As I walk towards the back of the club, I know that Dean is watching me. It makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside and I can feel myself becoming aroused. I find myself suddenly impatient for the party to end so that we can return to our motel room and discover each other all over again. I groan to myself and try to think of ice bergs or bloody entrails or anything that will distract me from thinking of Dean laying naked by my side. I splash cold water on my face before returning to our table and our friends.

Dean turns as I sit back down at the table smiling at me again, and I want desperately to touch him, feel the energy that is uniquely him as it pulses through his muscled body. I sometimes lay awake at night listening to Dean's heart beat as he lays beside me in our bed. As I curl around him holding him close, drowning in the warmth and feel of his silky skin, I am soothed by the steady rhythm of his life force letting myself drift towards sleep.

I smile back trying to say with my eyes and smile how I feel about him. That I love him. That I want to hold him. To touch him. His lips turn up again in a cocky smile, but behind the bravado and brashness, where no-one but me can see, his expressive eyes say that he loves me, wants me, needs me. And my heart soars with the knowledge that he feels the same as I do.

I can't help grinning foolishly and hope that no-one has noticed. Dean's love for me makes me feel like I can soar high up into the sky. Like the eagles I watched in my youth when we stayed up in the hills of the mid-west one summer. Brave, strong and beautiful, the birds hovered on the warm air currents of the summer sky and I marvelled at how they seemed to hang motionless in the sky, head down, wings out-stretched. I spent hours watching the birds trying to work out how they stayed in the air with nothing to hold them up. Then suddenly they would swoop downwards to catch some prey I couldn't see. The memory has stayed with me and I can still see the beauty and grace of the eagles as they hovered high above my head.

The band are taking a break before their second set, and Missouri nudges me away from my day-dreams trying to draw me into the conversation. She gives me a strange look, almost a frown, but then turns back to talking to Ellen. I push down the thought that she knows about us as I listen to Joshua regale the group with stories of his experiences with women in white. There is laughter and joking - hardened hunters relaxing away from the supernatural enjoying the beer and the company. I only half listen, distracted by the fact that the love of my life is sitting so close to me. The atmosphere is relaxed and familiar but I really only have eyes for Dean, even though I am not looking directly at him. I can smell his uniqueness. Feel his energy vibrating outwards. I can feel his warmth as his leg touches my own. Even barely touching his passion and fire burns me but it doesn't cause agony or pain, only desire and want for him. Dean smiles at me every now and again, and I wonder if he knows that he is my hero. Has always been my hero. And will always be my hero.

Dean has become my strength - the best part of me. Strong, brave, gentle and kind all at the same time. He is like the warm breeze that held the eagles of my childhood in the sky as they balanced on the air currents. After Jessica I wrapped myself in grief but Dean opened my eyes again showing me that the world could be filled with love once again. He is the centre of my universe and for the first time in my life I feel whole and complete.

We both endanger our lives in wildly bizarre ways every day but when I look back over my shoulder Dean is always there, strong but not always silent, but always there, like the wind supporting the eagles in their flight.

Dean has achieved so much but we both know that no-one will ever know how brave, how dedicated he is or how many times he puts himself in front of the speeding bullet to save someone else, someone who probably won't even thank him. No-one will know but I will. And I will keep the knowledge deep in my heart to remind him whenever he forgets or tries to shrug it off in his usual self-depreciating manner.

Missouri nudges me again, this time she smiles at me and I relax slightly. The band have returned to start on their second set of music. The lights dim once again and I join the others to listen to the requested music and find myself humming along to some of the tunes that I recognise from my youth.

So lost in my thoughts of Dean, I hadn't noticed that he has shifted his chair even closer to mine - our shoulders and arms are touching now and I smile to myself. He needs to touch me as much as I need to touch him.

The band's manager is announcing the next song saying that the requester didn't want their name announced but the song is for someone they love very much. The band begins to play.

I listen to the words of the song I requested, glad that I remembered the title. It describes how I feel about Dean so vividly, better than I could ever hope to voice the words and the feelings I have for him. And I hope that he knows that the song is for him. I am humming the tune quietly, singing the words in my head, as I drum the fingers of one hand against my thigh in time with the music. I hope that no-one notices as I shift closer to Dean. I desperately want him to know the song is for him.

I'm startled when I feel the fingers of one of Dean's hand curl around my own hand, which is still resting on my thigh under the table. I turn towards him smiling and he squeezes my hand lightly as he smiles shyly back. He knows. "Girl," he mouths to me but he is smiling happily at me and I can see the promise in his expressive eyes.

"Bitch," he whispers as he squeezes my hand again. We both turn back to watch the band, our hands still entwined under the table.

Dean is the wind beneath my wings. Strong and brave - he supports me, makes me who I am. Dean is everything I would like to be and he will be my hero until the day I draw my last breath.

End

The Wind Beneath My Wings

(Larry Henley\Jeff Sibar)

To never have sunlight on your face.

You have been content to let me shine.

You always walked a step behind.

I was the one with all the glory.

While you were the one with all the strength.

Beautiful face without a name for so long.

A beautiful smile to hide the pain.

Did you ever know that you're my hero.

And everything that I'd like to be.

And I can fly higher than an eagle.

You are the wind beneath my wings.

But I've got it all here in my heart.

I want you to know I know the truth.

Of course I know I would be nothing without you.

Did you ever know that you're my hero.

And everything that I'd like to be.

I can fly higher than an eagle.

You are the wind beneath my wings.

You are everything that I'd like to be.

And I can fly higher than an eagle.

Because you're the wind beneath my wings.

You're the wind beneath my wings.

Oh thank God for you.

The wind beneath my wings.