Secrets That Can Never Be Revealed (Supernatural, Sam/Dean, #6 - eyes staring back at me)
Title: Secrets That Can Never Be Revealed
Author/Artist: my_sam_dean
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Fandom: Superntural
Theme: (include the # and the theme) 6 - eyes staring back at me
Disclaimer: I own nothing Supernatural.
Warnings: slash, incest, mpreg
She came out of nowhere. Dean's gun was knocked out of his hand and he quickly took inventory of anything around him that could be used as a weapon. He wrapped his fingers around a large stone and pounded her head with it.
"Get off me, you filthy witch!" He cried out as her skull cracked.
Sam stood at the edge of the clearing, stunned by what he was seeing. John had no such qualms. He ran to where Dean was and pulled him off the bloody body.
"Dean!" He took Dean's wrist and caused his hand to drop what it was holding. "What possessed you to grab something off her altar?"
"Altar?" Dean was confused. "What the hell are you talking about?"
John pointed to where the stone lay with the symbol etched on it in plain view. Dean looked back at the spot where he'd grabbed it from and noticed the splintered piece of wood.
"That's an altar?"
Sighing, he let go of his son. "Didn't you think before touching it?"
"Yeah, I thought I needed something to defend myself with and it was there. What else was I supposed to do?"
Still silent, Sam stepped over to where he could see the symbol. It wasn't one that he recognized.
"For God's sake, get back!" John shoved at Sam. "We don't need both of you jinxed by it." He raked his fingers through his hair. "We just need to find out what the sigil means so we can reverse it. Let's call Bobby since he's got all the books."
Dean drug his feet as he followed his family back to the car. He could feel disappointment weighing him down. It wasn't a totally foreign emotion but it still wasn't one that he was comfortable with.
As always, Sam stayed quiet and moody during the whole drive. John was absorbed in his thoughts and Dean didn't feel up to holding a conversation with him just then. Even having the radio on didn't break the tension. If it would have been just Dean and Sam, Dean would have been belting out the songs off-tune. Around John, Dean had to be perfect and that didn't include acting his age of twenty-one years.
***
"Are you certain, Bobby? No, I don't doubt you, just . . . Is there a ritual to reverse it? We're talking about Dean here," John shot his elder son a pointed look. "You know what the chances are. Yeah. Keep in touch."
"Well?" Dean demanded.
"Bobby found that symbol. It's for a fertility spell. He laughed his ass off when I told him that you were the one that touched it. If it was Sam, it wouldn't be an issue."
Dean slumped back on the bed. "Is he sure?"
"You ever known Bobby to joke about something like that?"
Groans came from where Dean had buried his head underneath a pillow. He didn't want to hear any more.
"That means you," John pointed at Sam, "need to keep a close eye on him. No women at all. Condoms aren't going to work. He's not taking any chances at having a baby so you've got to help me keep an eye on him."
"Yes, sir." Sam mumbled at he stared at Dean's prone body stretched across the bed.
"Good." He grabbed his coat. "I'm going out. Make sure he doesn't go anywhere." With that, John left for the nearest watering hole. He'd had a draining day and didn't know how he was going to handle being a grandfather. Sam would do his best but once Dean got an idea (or woman) in his head, he generally succeeded.
***
"You really did it this time," Sam said as he turned from the door. "Outdid yourself. Really."
"Don't remind me."
"He's pissed."
"You think?" Dean snarked.
"So you didn't recognize the altar?"
"Was there an one hidden in that tangle of trees? Who the hell builds one like that?"
"Apparently, the witch did."
"Smartass."
Sam couldn't hide his smile at his brother's misfortune.
"Don't laugh at me, asshole. It could just as easily have been you."
"Nope. I wouldn't have dropped my gun."
"Cause you're so perfect."
"Yep."
Dean sighed. "At least I don't have to pick up women for awhile. It was getting old to flirt, pick them up and drop them off alone. That last one was really ticked."
"Cause you didn't put out?"
"If I wasn't already turned off of girls, she would have done it right there."
"So guys turn you on?"
"Just you," Dean pulled Sam onto his lap. They fell backwards on the bed, laughing at their luck. That crazy witch just made their life easier until Bobby found a cure.
***
Poke. Poke.
"You're losing some definition there, Sammy," Dean teased. "Do I need to up your training? Can't have Dad think you've been slacking."
"I do training just fine, Dean. Ever think it could be your cooking that's the problem?" Sam snapped back.
"You know our resources are limited." Dean wasn't joking any more. "I do the best I can."
"Maybe if we got some fruits and vegetables instead of all the bacon and red meat you'd have more options."
"You expect me to eat vegetables? Have you totally lost it?"
Sam shook his head. "I don't even know why I try talking to you."
Dean poked Sam in his side as he went past.
"Knock that off!" Sam skirted away and slammed his bedroom door behind him. He slumped down on his single bed, trying not to let what Dean said bother him. His jeans had seemed to fit more snug, but they were always so loose to begin with that he couldn't be sure that he hadn't shrunk them in the drier.
He could hear Dean's off-key singing through the house. It both irritated him and made him want to cry. Dad might say mean things to him but Dean never had. Mortified, he began to sob. Overwhelmed and extremely tired, Sam decided the best course of action was to sleep. He prodded his belly for a moment before he fell asleep. He had lost muscle definition and was getting soft.
***
"Sam's too sick to go on a hunt." Dean stood up for his brother. "He can stay here and bury his nose in a book. It'll be heaven for him."
"We really need him along. I know we've done hunts with the two of us but it is safer with three. Besides, he'll have to learn to hunt under any circumstances. The monsters don't take a day off just because a hunter has the sniffles."
Frustrated with his dad's bullheadedness, Dean told him, "It's not just a cold. He's barely gotten out of bed. When he does creep out, he looks like death warmed over. He'd be no good to us out there. I'd spend more time worrying about him than concentrating on the hunt. Do you really want that?"
John wanted to yell at his sons to obey. He didn't want to admit that Sam might be better off at home. So, he stayed silent.
"I'll get his homework that he's missed before we leave. It should keep him out of trouble." Dean left the room and the conversation was over. John knew when he'd been bested.
***
Sam stared at the pile of books that Dean had brought him from school. The flu had kicked him on his ass and he was having a hard time getting to school at all. He'd be able to catch up while the house was quiet all weekend. Dean and John had left on Friday and wouldn't be back until Monday at the earliest.
He sighed as he picked a book, opened the cover, and started to read.
An hour later, he'd made himself a sandwich and decided that he deserved a break from studying. He was disappointed when his stomach didn't take to the sandwich all that well. Slowly, the feeling got worse until he found himself puking in the bathroom. He got so tired and wrung out that he fell asleep on the cool tile floor. At least no one was there to ridicule him for that.
***
Dean had called him geekboy for as long as Sam could remember. When the flu drug on and nobody else caught it in the tight quarters they lived in, Sam did a little research. Then, he got scared and did a lot of research. There was no other excuse for it. The witched had cursed Dean with fertility and Sam was pregnant.
It was a struggle to finish high school. Dean was so proud of him at his graduation. Sam was thrilled to see Dean in the crowd but was a little hurt when John didn't return from his hunt as promised. That evening, Dean insisted on taking Sam out to supper. It wasn't a graduation party like his classmates had, but it was celebrating Winchester style.
"How's it feel to have the rest of your life ahead of you?" Dean asked around a mouthful of steak.
Sam shrugged. "I've known for awhile about Stanford, so I don't feel much different than yesterday."
"You still determined to go there?"
"They gave me a full scholarship, didn't they? How could I ever pass something like that up?"
"You can't," Dean replied. "You have to go. I don't care if I have to drag you there kicking and screaming, you're going."
Food wasn't all that interesting with the change of topic. Sam poked at what was left on his plate. "I have a bus ticket for next week."
"Next week? Doesn't school start in the fall like everywhere else?"
"I want to get a job and make sure everything is in order before I start. I only get the chance to do this once. I want to do it right."
Dean nodded. "Are you sure you have to leave so early? I thought we might have some time this summer to . . . you know. Dad's been around too much for us to be together but he takes longer jobs in the summer. He'll ditch us for at least one of those."
"I don't think I can stay," Sam tried to keep his voice from cracking. "It's better if I just go. Then you can hunt with Dad and not have to worry about me tagging with."
"Tagging with? You're part of a team, Sam."
"It just doesn't seem that way. Besides, where was that relationship of ours even going anyway?"
Dean appeared hurt. "Did you find someone else, Sammy?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Then how could you say that to me? We'll always be brothers and I thought our stint as lovers would last that long, too. We never really talked about it, but I assumed you knew."
Sam had waited months to hear Dean say that he was needed but now it was too late. He knew he couldn't be intimate with Dean because his body was already changing. He couldn't tell Dean about being pregnant, either. Dean's main goal in life was to kill as many monsters as possible. Sam was determined not to stand in his way and still provide for the life growing inside him.
"It's not like we've been close lately. We've done brother things but nothing else. Moving for Stanford won't change that. I'll still be just a phone call away and you can stop by anytime to visit." The lies rolled off Sam's tongue and for once Dean actually bought them.
"This separation is something you really want?"
"No, but I want a future that doesn't revolve around hunting."
The somber mood killed even Dean's appetite. A couple of To Go boxes later, they were headed home in a silent car, neither of them speaking. Strangely, there was nothing left to say.
***
His first stop when he reached Stanford was the admissions office. He told them he had a family emergency and would have to enroll a semester late. Since he had such good grades and showed quite a bit of promise, they allowed him to keep his scholarship and start just after the new year.
Sam's phone rang at least daily for the first week. He talked to Dean and made up what he would have been doing if he was going to college in the fall. Dean never brought up Dad and, as far as Sam knew, he'd never asked how Sam was, either. To be discarded so easily hurt, but he told himself that it was for the best. His future didn't include his family. And if that didn't sound screwed up, what did?
***
The blonde gal at the daycare took a liking to Sam. It helped that Joey was adorable and had every employee wrapped around his little finger. They got to talking when Sam would drop Joey off and pick him up. Before he started classes at Stanford, Jessica asked him out.
Jessica was a very forward thinking woman. She had no qualms about being assertive and going after what she wanted. When she set her sights on Sam, he didn't have a prayer.
***
Joey was five years old and a handful. He was always on the go and tired Sam and Jess out before he went to bed.
"What will the teacher do next year? Will she have twenty Joeys in her class?" Sam asked.
"She'll have only one Joey, but the other kids will have similar energy. They should wear each other out."
"That's where we went wrong." Sam embraced her from behind and buried her nose in her fruity scented hair. "We only had one instead of two."
"Another one is a few years away yet, honey. You're still taking classes, remember?"
Sam groaned. His schooling wasn't going as he'd planned. He was only able to go part-time and lost his scholarship to Stanford. He and Jess had married and moved to a small college town in the midwest. He was getting his education, it was just taking too long.
A knock on the door startled them. Sam almost fainted when he opened the door to see Dean on the other side.
"Hey, Sammy. Got a beer?" He didn't wait to be invited in. Sam caught the scent of his leather jacket as he moved past and it brought him back in time. It was the smells that he knew so well and had brought him comfort over the years. "So you decided against Stanford?" Dean asked as he casually leaned against the counter.
"I met Jess and my life took off in another direction," Sam explained.
Dean spotted a picture on the wall. "Cute kid. Who is he? He kinda looks familiar."
"That's our son, Joey," Sam answered just as Jess ushered the little boy into the room. "Speak of the devil, here he is. Joey, this is your uncle Dean. Go on, say hi to him."
"Like uncle Chris?" Joey asked.
"Yes," Sam laughed. "Just like uncle Chris."
Dean set his bottle aside and squatted down so he could be eye level with the boy who had captured his attention. He couldn't put his finger on why the kid looked like someone he should know. He chalked it up to being Sam's boy, so of course he'd look like Sam did when he was that age.
"Hey, Joey. I'm your uncle Dean."
"Nice to meet you," Joey said politely and extended his hand. Dean looked past Joey and sent Sam a questioning glance.
"Manners never hurt, Dean."
The older brother shook the small hand that was offered. He'd barely let go before the kid was off in a flash. Apparently the novelty of being a new uncle had already worn off.
The three adults chatted for awhile as they listened to Joey make his own noises to accompany the video game he was playing. "Uncle Dean! Will you play with me?"
"Sure. Be right in." Dean called back. He looked back to Sam and Jessica, "I'm back to being cool again. See ya!"
From the doorway, they watched Dean and Joey blast away on screen. Sam had known that Joey's mannerisms came from Dean but it was even more evident when they sat side by side. Sam's heart ached because he knew he could never tell Dean that Joey was his.
"Why didn't you tell Dean that Joey's mother died before you met me? Didn't he know her?" Jess asked
"They never met. Besides, you're the only mom Joey knows."
Later on, when Jess was putting Joey to bed, Dean asked how old Joey was.
"Five," Sam replied, not adding that he'd be six in another couple months.
Dean did math backwards in his head but still counted it out on his fingers. "Five years old? Man, you sure didn't waste anytime. What did you do? Knock Jess up the night you got into town?"
'Something like that," Sam hid behind his beer bottle, hoping that he didn't sound as broken as he felt.
"Good going," Dean slugged his shoulder. "Always knew you had it in you."
Sam wondered if he could have handled being a single dad any differently. Would it have been better to tell Dean and hope that he'd stick around? There was no way he could come clean now or in the future. He'd told his wife about a woman who gave him Joey. He could never tell Dean that the boy he played with and would probably end up adoring was his own.
His heart broke for Dean, Joey and himself. Dean and Joey would never know the truth. Dean had been deceived and Joey's life was based on a lie. Sam, on the other hand, couldn't forget. Every time he saw Joey's green eyes, he thought of Dean. When he had his little tempter tantrums, Sam could picture Dean doing the same.
Sam's happy (even though it was fake) life was no more. He was sentenced to live a life full of 'what ifs' that he couldn't share with anyone.
Author/Artist: my_sam_dean
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Fandom: Superntural
Theme: (include the # and the theme) 6 - eyes staring back at me
Disclaimer: I own nothing Supernatural.
Warnings: slash, incest, mpreg
She came out of nowhere. Dean's gun was knocked out of his hand and he quickly took inventory of anything around him that could be used as a weapon. He wrapped his fingers around a large stone and pounded her head with it.
"Get off me, you filthy witch!" He cried out as her skull cracked.
Sam stood at the edge of the clearing, stunned by what he was seeing. John had no such qualms. He ran to where Dean was and pulled him off the bloody body.
"Dean!" He took Dean's wrist and caused his hand to drop what it was holding. "What possessed you to grab something off her altar?"
"Altar?" Dean was confused. "What the hell are you talking about?"
John pointed to where the stone lay with the symbol etched on it in plain view. Dean looked back at the spot where he'd grabbed it from and noticed the splintered piece of wood.
"That's an altar?"
Sighing, he let go of his son. "Didn't you think before touching it?"
"Yeah, I thought I needed something to defend myself with and it was there. What else was I supposed to do?"
Still silent, Sam stepped over to where he could see the symbol. It wasn't one that he recognized.
"For God's sake, get back!" John shoved at Sam. "We don't need both of you jinxed by it." He raked his fingers through his hair. "We just need to find out what the sigil means so we can reverse it. Let's call Bobby since he's got all the books."
Dean drug his feet as he followed his family back to the car. He could feel disappointment weighing him down. It wasn't a totally foreign emotion but it still wasn't one that he was comfortable with.
As always, Sam stayed quiet and moody during the whole drive. John was absorbed in his thoughts and Dean didn't feel up to holding a conversation with him just then. Even having the radio on didn't break the tension. If it would have been just Dean and Sam, Dean would have been belting out the songs off-tune. Around John, Dean had to be perfect and that didn't include acting his age of twenty-one years.
***
"Are you certain, Bobby? No, I don't doubt you, just . . . Is there a ritual to reverse it? We're talking about Dean here," John shot his elder son a pointed look. "You know what the chances are. Yeah. Keep in touch."
"Well?" Dean demanded.
"Bobby found that symbol. It's for a fertility spell. He laughed his ass off when I told him that you were the one that touched it. If it was Sam, it wouldn't be an issue."
Dean slumped back on the bed. "Is he sure?"
"You ever known Bobby to joke about something like that?"
Groans came from where Dean had buried his head underneath a pillow. He didn't want to hear any more.
"That means you," John pointed at Sam, "need to keep a close eye on him. No women at all. Condoms aren't going to work. He's not taking any chances at having a baby so you've got to help me keep an eye on him."
"Yes, sir." Sam mumbled at he stared at Dean's prone body stretched across the bed.
"Good." He grabbed his coat. "I'm going out. Make sure he doesn't go anywhere." With that, John left for the nearest watering hole. He'd had a draining day and didn't know how he was going to handle being a grandfather. Sam would do his best but once Dean got an idea (or woman) in his head, he generally succeeded.
***
"You really did it this time," Sam said as he turned from the door. "Outdid yourself. Really."
"Don't remind me."
"He's pissed."
"You think?" Dean snarked.
"So you didn't recognize the altar?"
"Was there an one hidden in that tangle of trees? Who the hell builds one like that?"
"Apparently, the witch did."
"Smartass."
Sam couldn't hide his smile at his brother's misfortune.
"Don't laugh at me, asshole. It could just as easily have been you."
"Nope. I wouldn't have dropped my gun."
"Cause you're so perfect."
"Yep."
Dean sighed. "At least I don't have to pick up women for awhile. It was getting old to flirt, pick them up and drop them off alone. That last one was really ticked."
"Cause you didn't put out?"
"If I wasn't already turned off of girls, she would have done it right there."
"So guys turn you on?"
"Just you," Dean pulled Sam onto his lap. They fell backwards on the bed, laughing at their luck. That crazy witch just made their life easier until Bobby found a cure.
***
Poke. Poke.
"You're losing some definition there, Sammy," Dean teased. "Do I need to up your training? Can't have Dad think you've been slacking."
"I do training just fine, Dean. Ever think it could be your cooking that's the problem?" Sam snapped back.
"You know our resources are limited." Dean wasn't joking any more. "I do the best I can."
"Maybe if we got some fruits and vegetables instead of all the bacon and red meat you'd have more options."
"You expect me to eat vegetables? Have you totally lost it?"
Sam shook his head. "I don't even know why I try talking to you."
Dean poked Sam in his side as he went past.
"Knock that off!" Sam skirted away and slammed his bedroom door behind him. He slumped down on his single bed, trying not to let what Dean said bother him. His jeans had seemed to fit more snug, but they were always so loose to begin with that he couldn't be sure that he hadn't shrunk them in the drier.
He could hear Dean's off-key singing through the house. It both irritated him and made him want to cry. Dad might say mean things to him but Dean never had. Mortified, he began to sob. Overwhelmed and extremely tired, Sam decided the best course of action was to sleep. He prodded his belly for a moment before he fell asleep. He had lost muscle definition and was getting soft.
***
"Sam's too sick to go on a hunt." Dean stood up for his brother. "He can stay here and bury his nose in a book. It'll be heaven for him."
"We really need him along. I know we've done hunts with the two of us but it is safer with three. Besides, he'll have to learn to hunt under any circumstances. The monsters don't take a day off just because a hunter has the sniffles."
Frustrated with his dad's bullheadedness, Dean told him, "It's not just a cold. He's barely gotten out of bed. When he does creep out, he looks like death warmed over. He'd be no good to us out there. I'd spend more time worrying about him than concentrating on the hunt. Do you really want that?"
John wanted to yell at his sons to obey. He didn't want to admit that Sam might be better off at home. So, he stayed silent.
"I'll get his homework that he's missed before we leave. It should keep him out of trouble." Dean left the room and the conversation was over. John knew when he'd been bested.
***
Sam stared at the pile of books that Dean had brought him from school. The flu had kicked him on his ass and he was having a hard time getting to school at all. He'd be able to catch up while the house was quiet all weekend. Dean and John had left on Friday and wouldn't be back until Monday at the earliest.
He sighed as he picked a book, opened the cover, and started to read.
An hour later, he'd made himself a sandwich and decided that he deserved a break from studying. He was disappointed when his stomach didn't take to the sandwich all that well. Slowly, the feeling got worse until he found himself puking in the bathroom. He got so tired and wrung out that he fell asleep on the cool tile floor. At least no one was there to ridicule him for that.
***
Dean had called him geekboy for as long as Sam could remember. When the flu drug on and nobody else caught it in the tight quarters they lived in, Sam did a little research. Then, he got scared and did a lot of research. There was no other excuse for it. The witched had cursed Dean with fertility and Sam was pregnant.
It was a struggle to finish high school. Dean was so proud of him at his graduation. Sam was thrilled to see Dean in the crowd but was a little hurt when John didn't return from his hunt as promised. That evening, Dean insisted on taking Sam out to supper. It wasn't a graduation party like his classmates had, but it was celebrating Winchester style.
"How's it feel to have the rest of your life ahead of you?" Dean asked around a mouthful of steak.
Sam shrugged. "I've known for awhile about Stanford, so I don't feel much different than yesterday."
"You still determined to go there?"
"They gave me a full scholarship, didn't they? How could I ever pass something like that up?"
"You can't," Dean replied. "You have to go. I don't care if I have to drag you there kicking and screaming, you're going."
Food wasn't all that interesting with the change of topic. Sam poked at what was left on his plate. "I have a bus ticket for next week."
"Next week? Doesn't school start in the fall like everywhere else?"
"I want to get a job and make sure everything is in order before I start. I only get the chance to do this once. I want to do it right."
Dean nodded. "Are you sure you have to leave so early? I thought we might have some time this summer to . . . you know. Dad's been around too much for us to be together but he takes longer jobs in the summer. He'll ditch us for at least one of those."
"I don't think I can stay," Sam tried to keep his voice from cracking. "It's better if I just go. Then you can hunt with Dad and not have to worry about me tagging with."
"Tagging with? You're part of a team, Sam."
"It just doesn't seem that way. Besides, where was that relationship of ours even going anyway?"
Dean appeared hurt. "Did you find someone else, Sammy?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Then how could you say that to me? We'll always be brothers and I thought our stint as lovers would last that long, too. We never really talked about it, but I assumed you knew."
Sam had waited months to hear Dean say that he was needed but now it was too late. He knew he couldn't be intimate with Dean because his body was already changing. He couldn't tell Dean about being pregnant, either. Dean's main goal in life was to kill as many monsters as possible. Sam was determined not to stand in his way and still provide for the life growing inside him.
"It's not like we've been close lately. We've done brother things but nothing else. Moving for Stanford won't change that. I'll still be just a phone call away and you can stop by anytime to visit." The lies rolled off Sam's tongue and for once Dean actually bought them.
"This separation is something you really want?"
"No, but I want a future that doesn't revolve around hunting."
The somber mood killed even Dean's appetite. A couple of To Go boxes later, they were headed home in a silent car, neither of them speaking. Strangely, there was nothing left to say.
***
His first stop when he reached Stanford was the admissions office. He told them he had a family emergency and would have to enroll a semester late. Since he had such good grades and showed quite a bit of promise, they allowed him to keep his scholarship and start just after the new year.
Sam's phone rang at least daily for the first week. He talked to Dean and made up what he would have been doing if he was going to college in the fall. Dean never brought up Dad and, as far as Sam knew, he'd never asked how Sam was, either. To be discarded so easily hurt, but he told himself that it was for the best. His future didn't include his family. And if that didn't sound screwed up, what did?
***
The blonde gal at the daycare took a liking to Sam. It helped that Joey was adorable and had every employee wrapped around his little finger. They got to talking when Sam would drop Joey off and pick him up. Before he started classes at Stanford, Jessica asked him out.
Jessica was a very forward thinking woman. She had no qualms about being assertive and going after what she wanted. When she set her sights on Sam, he didn't have a prayer.
***
Joey was five years old and a handful. He was always on the go and tired Sam and Jess out before he went to bed.
"What will the teacher do next year? Will she have twenty Joeys in her class?" Sam asked.
"She'll have only one Joey, but the other kids will have similar energy. They should wear each other out."
"That's where we went wrong." Sam embraced her from behind and buried her nose in her fruity scented hair. "We only had one instead of two."
"Another one is a few years away yet, honey. You're still taking classes, remember?"
Sam groaned. His schooling wasn't going as he'd planned. He was only able to go part-time and lost his scholarship to Stanford. He and Jess had married and moved to a small college town in the midwest. He was getting his education, it was just taking too long.
A knock on the door startled them. Sam almost fainted when he opened the door to see Dean on the other side.
"Hey, Sammy. Got a beer?" He didn't wait to be invited in. Sam caught the scent of his leather jacket as he moved past and it brought him back in time. It was the smells that he knew so well and had brought him comfort over the years. "So you decided against Stanford?" Dean asked as he casually leaned against the counter.
"I met Jess and my life took off in another direction," Sam explained.
Dean spotted a picture on the wall. "Cute kid. Who is he? He kinda looks familiar."
"That's our son, Joey," Sam answered just as Jess ushered the little boy into the room. "Speak of the devil, here he is. Joey, this is your uncle Dean. Go on, say hi to him."
"Like uncle Chris?" Joey asked.
"Yes," Sam laughed. "Just like uncle Chris."
Dean set his bottle aside and squatted down so he could be eye level with the boy who had captured his attention. He couldn't put his finger on why the kid looked like someone he should know. He chalked it up to being Sam's boy, so of course he'd look like Sam did when he was that age.
"Hey, Joey. I'm your uncle Dean."
"Nice to meet you," Joey said politely and extended his hand. Dean looked past Joey and sent Sam a questioning glance.
"Manners never hurt, Dean."
The older brother shook the small hand that was offered. He'd barely let go before the kid was off in a flash. Apparently the novelty of being a new uncle had already worn off.
The three adults chatted for awhile as they listened to Joey make his own noises to accompany the video game he was playing. "Uncle Dean! Will you play with me?"
"Sure. Be right in." Dean called back. He looked back to Sam and Jessica, "I'm back to being cool again. See ya!"
From the doorway, they watched Dean and Joey blast away on screen. Sam had known that Joey's mannerisms came from Dean but it was even more evident when they sat side by side. Sam's heart ached because he knew he could never tell Dean that Joey was his.
"Why didn't you tell Dean that Joey's mother died before you met me? Didn't he know her?" Jess asked
"They never met. Besides, you're the only mom Joey knows."
Later on, when Jess was putting Joey to bed, Dean asked how old Joey was.
"Five," Sam replied, not adding that he'd be six in another couple months.
Dean did math backwards in his head but still counted it out on his fingers. "Five years old? Man, you sure didn't waste anytime. What did you do? Knock Jess up the night you got into town?"
'Something like that," Sam hid behind his beer bottle, hoping that he didn't sound as broken as he felt.
"Good going," Dean slugged his shoulder. "Always knew you had it in you."
Sam wondered if he could have handled being a single dad any differently. Would it have been better to tell Dean and hope that he'd stick around? There was no way he could come clean now or in the future. He'd told his wife about a woman who gave him Joey. He could never tell Dean that the boy he played with and would probably end up adoring was his own.
His heart broke for Dean, Joey and himself. Dean and Joey would never know the truth. Dean had been deceived and Joey's life was based on a lie. Sam, on the other hand, couldn't forget. Every time he saw Joey's green eyes, he thought of Dean. When he had his little tempter tantrums, Sam could picture Dean doing the same.
Sam's happy (even though it was fake) life was no more. He was sentenced to live a life full of 'what ifs' that he couldn't share with anyone.