Stay, Part 1 (Supernatural, Sam/Dean, #2 - inner child)
Title: Stay, Part 1
Author/Artist: my_sam_dean
Pairing: Sam/Dean, Sam/Jess
Fandom: Supernatural
Theme: (include the # and the theme) 2 - inner child
Disclaimer: I own nothing Supernatural.
Warnings: Slash, incest, off-screen character death
"You can't be serious," Sam stomped down the steps leading to his apartment's parking lot.
"Why not?" Dean was quick to reply. "This is Dad that we're talking about. How many times has he saved your ass?"
"He didn't. You always came to the rescue."
"Okay then. Do this for me. He's MY dad and he's missing. I haven't asked you for anything since you left to get your normal life. The only reason I'm here now is because I can't find him on my own. I've looked and called all his contacts. No one has heard from him."
"I guess I can take a couple days to help you look. I'll have to think of something to tell Jessica." Sam turned to go in. "Just wait here."
"Why don't you just tell her the truth, Sam? It'd be much easier."
"She doesn't deserve that, Dean. She's a nice girl and I'd hate for her to be scared of the darkness."
"Whatever. Just thought you'd have a better chance of keeping her if she really knew what was going on instead of catching you in a lie."
"Since when are you an expert on relationships?"
"I'm not. That's just big brother talking. Hurry up so you can get your ass back here. I'll take stock of our supplies while I wait."
Sam's feet felt like they were made of concrete and he trudged up the stairs and down the hall to his apartment and girlfriend who was anxiously waiting for him. Until tonight, she'd figured that Sam's brother Dean was dead. It was quite a shock for her to see him standing in the middle of the living room.
"Hey, babe," Sam gave her a hug.
"Where's Dean?"
"He's waiting for me downstairs. Listen, I have to leave town with him for a few days, a week at most."
"What about school?"
"We both know I can make up the classes when I return. Besides my professors love me."
"Where are you going? Dean said something about your dad?" Until that night, she'd thought Sam's dad was dead, too. It was a night for revelations.
"Yeah. We're going to track him down. He's been unreachable for too long. I'm sure he's fine, we just need to find him."
Jess stood to the side as she watched Sam pack his duffel.
"You said a week at most?"
Sam nodded. "I'll call you every night." He swung the strap over his shoulder. "I'm going to miss you, honey."
"Same here." Jess grasped the ends of his collar and pulled him down for a kiss. "I guess you 'd better get going. The sooner you're gone, the sooner you're back."
"That's my girl." Sam turned around when he got to the door. He didn't say anything, he just memorized how Jess looked in her Smurfs t-shirt and boy shorts. With a sigh, he continued down to where Dean was waiting.
"Took you long enough," Dean complained when Sam got in the passenger side. "Did you have to take time for a quickie with your chick while Dad is out there in danger?"
"Jess isn't a quickie kind of gal. Besides, how do you know Dad is in danger? He could have lost his cell or just turned it off if he's fighting with Bobby again."
"Call it a gut instinct." Dean started his baby. "I have an idea of where to begin. It's a long drive. Get some sleep and you can drive next shift."
"You never let me drive the Impala."
"Dad's never been missing, either. It's a whole new world, Sammy."
The lull of the engine pushed Sam off to sleep. Even though he'd had a couple years of sleeping in a real bed, he grew up with his cradle purring down the highway. It all came back to him quick. It was too deeply ingrained in the fabric of who he was to ever disappear completely.
*****
"I checked again with Bobby. No one has heard from Dad and Bobby said he hasn't run Dad off his property since when you were still with us."
"What was he hunting?"
"Don't know. I was doing my own gigs. We'd check in with each other every month or so. You know how hard it is to keep tabs on someone who is constantly on the move. I thought we had a pretty good system until I realized it had been two whole months and no one had heard from him, not just me."
"My turn to drive. I'm assuming we're driving straight through. To Bobby's place, right?"
"We could try Pastor Jim's but I don't feel like intruding."
"Bobby's it is." Sam edged the precious car from the parking spot and onto the road. "Does he still have that guard dog that would lick someone to death if they tried to break in?"
"Yeah. He's really scary. Bobby even lets him sleep at the foot of his bed."
"I thought he wasn't allowed in the house."
"Maybe Bobby's getting soft in his old age. Just don't bring it up when we're there. It's no skin off our backs if he wants to listen to his dog snore to high heaven every night."
Sam nodded. "Okay. Get some shuteye."
"Drive careful, Sammy. Don't hurt my girl."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
It was daylight when Sam was driving. He had the radio on low so as to let Dean sleep and still keep himself awake. He took notice of the beautiful landscape they were traveling through. He'd missed the variety of the road while living in one place.
The semi came out of nowhere. It flew through a stop sign and struck the passenger side of the Impala. The sound of crushing metal was drowned out by his own scream.
"Dean?" Sam wiped the blood from his eyes that was coming from a gash on his head. He reached over to where Dean sat, unmoving. "Dean! Man, say something!"
His eyes opened into slits as Dean moaned, "Ow, dammit." The door was crushed into the cab of the car and the impact had trapped his right leg under steel. "Sam, get me out of here."
"I'm trying, dude." Sam looked closer at how Dean was pinned in the car. "I'm calling for an ambulance. I don't know how they are going to get you out. Do you hurt anywhere besides your leg?"
"My leg? My leg doesn't hurt. My right arm might be broken, shoulder aches and my head is pounding like a marching band is practicing in there. Why'd you mention my leg?"
"No reason," Sam quickly covered his concern. "It was just a guess."
Dean kept up with the small talk most of the time until the paramedics arrived. By the time he was cut out of the car he was unconscious.
*****
Sam listened to the monitors beep at a steady pace. At least Dean wasn't setting off alarms like he did the first day. It didn't matter if it was a major or minor kind of alarm, it all startled Sam the same. His heart would stop only to restart when a nurse came in to turn off the noise, adjust something, declare that Dean was fine, and leave.
He hated hospitals. He was so out of practice and scared for his brother that he gave the medical facility their real information. That was one of the first rules their dad had taught them. They were to always remember what aliases they had to choose from and use them wisely. Oh well, at least he wasn't there to tell Sam how much he'd disappointed him again.
Dean was still unconscious a couple days after the accident. His body was broken and bruised. The leg that he hadn't been able to feel had a compound fracture of his femur. A couple of ribs were cracked and he had a doosy of a concussion. The shoulder he'd complained about was just a mass of bruises. His right arm was luckily sprained and not broken.
The Impala was as close to totaled as she could be. Bobby had picked her up and brought her back to the scrap yard. He was trying to save whatever parts he could and see if he could put the car back together from scratch. He was chasing down parts like a wild man while Sam waited with Dean at the hospital. When Dean woke up, he was sure to ask about his beloved car.
It was when Dean was starting to wake up that Sam realized how easy he could have lost him. Just the thought made it difficult for Sam to breathe. When a nurse came in to check Dean's vitals, Sam went out into the hall and tried to clear his head. But, there was no way he was going to get rid of how Dean had looked in the mangled car. That picture was burned in his brain forever.
He'd run to Stanford years before and had convinced himself that he wasn't running away, he was running toward a better future. His flimsy excuse didn't hold any more water now than it did back then. He'd left hunting because it was hard. John was the most bull-headed person that he knew and refused to listen to anyone--although Dean had broken through with reason a time or two. When he was younger, he didn't know what would be waiting for him in California. That was part of the thrill of it all. He had no problem leaving his dad, he actually couldn't wait to be out from under his thumb. Dean, though, Dean was like collateral damage. He'd wanted to keep in touch with Dean but soon found out the strain it was putting on him to be in the middle of a tug of war between him and their dad. That's when he stopped calling and gradually Dean's calls had ceased, too.
Now, Dean was the most important person to him. Sure, there was Jessica, but she was just a girlfriend. Dean was his brother and his best friend. He knew Sam inside and out and still accepted him as who he was. He couldn't even tell Jessica how he got the scars. The trust he'd forged with Jess was based on lies. It was getting complicated to remember the untruths that he'd told just so he could keep his story straight. It was all very tiring.
It was a long process for Dean to wake up fully and even longer for him to get discharged from the hospital. It didn’t matter if Dean flirted with the nurses or made their life difficult by claiming that he would be just fine at home. The nurses may have had to put up with him, but it was the doctor who held the power to let him go. And, he took more convincing.
By the time he was at Bobby's, he considered himself an expert on crutches until he climbed up to the second story to his and Sam's room. He'd been too stubborn to take Bobby's offer of the hide-a-bed in the living room.
Sam had followed him upstairs, staying one step behind so he could catch Dean if he stumbled. Once Dean plopped gracelessly onto his bed, Sam took Dean's shoe off, stowed the crutches by the nightstand but still in Dean's reach and struggled to get the covers over Dean's limp body.
"Just need some sleep, Sammy." Dean didn't even open his eyes.
"I know. I'll bring you up supper when it's time." Sam knew Dean was asleep before he'd even finished answering him. He propped Dean's cast up on a pillow and put a glass of water on his bedside table. Dean looked so young when he was asleep. The tension in his face was gone, probably due to the pain killers he was looped up on. Sam stood over his bed for a moment before he brushed his fingers along Dean's face to move his hair back and see how the bruises had healed. He quickly turned and went downstairs, almost afraid that Dean would wake up and demand to know why Sammy had touched him like that. Sam was scared because he himself didn't even know why he did it.
*****
"God, Sam, where are you?"
Sam hated the panic he heard in her voice. "I'm still with Dean."
"Didn't you get any of my messages? I've been worried sick!"
"I lost my phone for a couple days and just got your voicemails. Are you doing okay?" He hated lying about why he hadn't called. Truth was, he'd needed some time to figure his own head out. But, he couldn't tell her that without her questioning it further.
"I miss you," her voice softened. "When are you coming home?"
"Miss you, too, Jess." Sam tried to clear the lump from his throat. "There's been a new development. I think I'm going to be gone much longer than I intended."
"Your professors aren't going to put up with your absence much longer. It'd be a shame to have to do this semester all over again."
"That's what I needed to talk to you about. I'm going to drop this semester and help Dean find Dad. I can't just leave him to do it on his own."
"Why not? In all the time I've known you, you've never mentioned Dean or how he was. I had to drag his name out of you when you happened to mention a brother. Why are you all concerned now?"
'Because I never successfully ran away' was not going to be an acceptable answer. Neither was the fact that guilt made him come back to Dean in the first place, but now it was more like he couldn't imagine leaving Dean on his own. When he'd left for Stanford, he'd figured Dad would always be there for Dean. He didn't plan on the jerk ditching him and Dean hunting without backup.
"Isn't that what a good brother is supposed to do? I've been a shitty one but I'm trying to make it right. You have sisters, so I'm sure you can understand that." Sam felt bad for the guilt trip but couldn't think of a nicer way to accomplish what he knew he had to do.
She was speechless. Her sisters meant the world to her and even if they were states away, they still talked on the phone a couple times a week. She'd never want Sam to abandon his brother but she couldn't deny the fact that she wanted him home.
"Of course you should help Dean. I've just been out of my mind with worry the last few days. Do you have any idea how long it will take to find your dad? Do you have any leads?"
"Not yet." Sam couldn't tell her that he'd disappeared off the map. She'd wonder why someone, at least someone from his workplace, wouldn't have an idea of when he disappeared. "It could be some time. If you find someone else while I'm gone, I won't blame you."
"What? How can you even think that I'd replace you? Besides, I'm sure it won't be for too long and you can get back to your classes and me."
Sam didn't agree with her but he didn't have the heart to tell her so.
"You'll still call, right?"
Sam could hear the tears coming over the phone and knew he had to be quick. "Yeah. I'll even try to be better about checking my messages. You have my number if you need anything."
Jess fought to keep the heartbreak at bay. "I will. Just be careful, Sam. I love you."
"Love you, Jess. I have to go. Goodbye."
"Bye."
He held his head in his hands and wondered how Jess could still believe in him and want him back. He'd ignored her calls for his own benefit and it didn't seem to matter to her. It hadn't been his intention to hurt her, and yet he did. His goal had been to protect Dean.
Slipping his phone back in his pocket, he forced himself to think of something else, anything.
***
The second day they'd been at Bobby's, Dean had hobbled out into the yard to see the damage done to the Impala. Sam had found him there with a stricken look of devastation on his face.
As soon as Dean saw him, he slid this usual mask back into place. "At least we're okay. That's what matters," his voice was gruff as he shuffled past Sam.
Seeing the Impala spread out in parts was difficult for Sam. He couldn't imagine what Dean felt like. He'd spent hours over the years lovingly keeping her maintained and running in tip-top shape. All of that energy was down the tubes. Dean couldn't even work on his baby himself, he had to rely on Bobby to do it for him. As soon as he was more mobile, there would be no way to keep him inside. He'd be taking all his meals out in the yard, that is if he remembered to eat at all.
Great, Sam thought, he'd gone from feeling awful for what he'd done to Jess to feeling even worse about Dean's situation. It definitely wasn't his week.
*****
Parts came in on a regular basis and Bobby spent all day on the Impala whenever he could. As soon as Dean was feeling better, Bobby set a chair out there for Dean so he could watch him. When Sam had his back turned, Dean was lying under his baby with his casted leg protected with something he and Bobby had rigged up. Apparently, his directions and micro-managing had worn Bobby down to where he'd either have to find a way to allow Dean to get his hands dirty or gag him.
Playing in the dirt made Dean happy so it made life easier in the Singer household as a whole. Sam didn't have to worry if Dean was eating enough because being out in the fresh air had given him his appetite back. Dean slept better at night because he tired himself out during the day.
Sam found himself watching Dean more and more. Not exactly as a little brother should be eying the older brother, but he couldn't help it. How had he never noticed what Dean had looked like before? Sexuality seemed to ooze from him, and for the first time, Sam realized how the ladies at the bars felt when Dean's attention was directed their way.
As soon as the Impala was running again and Dean had ditched the cast, he was pestering Sam to get back on the road and continue their search for Dad. No new clues had surfaced during their unplanned period of recuperation. They'd made phone calls to all of Dad's contacts (again) and Bobby had tapped his own resources, too. It was simply too long for even John Winchester to have been gone without calling or at least running into someone who knew him and could report back to his sons.
"I don't think you should overdo it with the driving," Sam was trying to be helpful.
"You trying to tell me what I can and can't do?" snapped Dean. "If you are, stop it right now. I finally have my baby back and nothing, not even you, can prevent me from enjoying being back on the road with her."
Sam thought he heard Dean grumble something about how he'd tried to do the old girl in for good and decided that Dean was over being relieved that they were both in one piece and had switched to being mad at how careless Sam had been. Sam let the words slide and tried to assure himself that deep down he mattered more to Dean than the car.
Without another word about easing Dean back into life on the road, they made great time to another place in the middle of nowhere. Sam didn't even know how Dean had picked their route. It crossed his mind that they could have driven in circles all day and he wouldn't have noticed. He'd been sawing wood as soon as he'd disagreed with Dean about overexertion. Taking into account how many miles the motel they stayed at was from Bobby's, Sam was reasonably sure that Dean had carried them in one direction instead of meandering on the road.
"Feels good to be back in the saddle, doesn't it?" Dean sighed from the other bed as they watched some lame reality show that didn't require any concentration.
"It's a little early to tell being as its the first day, but yeah, I think it will."
"Bobby gave me an address for a hermit named Rufus that used to be a hunter."
"Are there any hunters who don't isolate themselves from everyone else? Think about it, Dean."
He ignored Sam's remark. "Anyhow, he seemed to think that if we showed up on the guy's doorstep we'd be more likely to get information from him. Apparently he's as well connected as Bobby but with a whole other group."
"Thought you might have an idea about where we were going."
"Do I ever not have a plan? Gees, you're making me sound as useless as I've felt since I woke up in the hospital. Could you give me some credit?"
Instantly chastised for his irresponsible words, Sam clammed up, thankful that the mindless chatter from the television covered the definite silence in the room.
*****
"Well, that was a waste of time," Dean complained as they left Rufus's house. "Not only did the old man frustrate me to a whole new level, he also insulted our family as a whole. What an ass!"
Sam couldn't disagree. Why had Bobby sent them when he knew what kind of reception they would get? Did Bobby not know of the hatred Rufus held for John and everything connected to the man?
"At least we can say we checked it out. Leaving no stone unturned and all that." He didn't really expect Dean to respond and took him roaring the Impala down the road as agreement.
*****
Another day, another version of pissed-off Dean.
"Can you just find us a hunt? Maybe we'll run into Dad if he's investigating the same incident."
"Didn't think you wanted to concentrate on anything other than the search for Dad."
"I changed my mind, alright? I'm allowed to do that every now and then, you know."
"Sure, Dean. I'll find us a hunt. So we're back to saving people, hunting things?"
"Did we ever really quit? I mean, I look for indication of any supernatural involvement each time I enter a diner. It's not like I really get a break."
All Sam could do was nod his agreement.
*****
"Dammit, Sam! How the hell could you let a spirit get the drop on you like that?"
Dean's words made Sam's head throb all the more. His heartbeat was keeping time with the pain in the rest of his body.
"Sorry. Guess I forgot the proper way to fly through the air while I was gone."
"Don't be a smartass with me. You know as well as I do how dangerous that could have been."
Knowing it would suck the wind out of Dean's sails, Sam stayed silent.
"I just don't get how you could forget something like that," Dean said mostly to himself. "Now, are you going to tell me where you're hurt or do I have to guess and go from there?"
"Head, back, ankle," Sam listed his injuries off.
"Concussion, bruised to hell and sprained," was Dean's determination after looking Sam over. "Better get some rest before I have to wake you up to check your mental state. I'm going to get ice."
Sam drifted off to sleep right after he heard the door click shut.
*****
"Sammy?" Dean shook him a little. "You awake, dude? Come on, you've got to talk to me here."
Dean wanted to talk? Sam had to have heard wrong. Dean never wanted to talk, even when it was the clear option that common sense suggested.
"Don't make me stick ice down your shirt to get you up. You know I'll do it."
Yep, Dean would. He'd done it before. Or maybe it was in retaliation for something Sam had done. In his fuddled mind, he couldn't remember.
"Am up," Sam mumbled.
"What was that? Sam, you've got to do better than that. You're headed for chill city if you don't."
"Up, up." Sam struggled to sit up.
"You scared me there. If you ever do that again, I'll kill you!"
Sam laughed, more like himself. "Wouldn't that defeat the point?"
"Shut up. You're missing the point." Dean shut off the light and slid into bed. "Night, Samantha. See ya in a couple hours."
"Night."
***
Had it really been over two hours since the last time Dean had pounced on him and made him wake up?
"I'm skipping the whole ice cube motivation and going right to an ice bath. Just warning you. Maybe you should answer me, the sooner the better."
Dean wanted him to answer?
"Couldn't put you in the middle." In his mind, Sam was back at Stanford. "Ripping you apart, not good."
"Ripping me apart? Sam! You're not making any sense. We got the wendigo over a month ago. We were going after a spirit when . . ." Dean let his sentence drift off. "Doesn't matter. Am I getting through to you or not? It's like we're not even in the same time zone."
"Wanted a better life for both of us. You didn't need to babysit and could just help Dad. Better all the way around."
"Sam! Yo, Sammy! Open your eyes or join the polar bear club. It's your choice. Open up those peepers."
Sam's eyelids fluttered and it took a few moments before he lost the utterly confused look. "Dean?"
"Yeah, still here. Know where we are?"
After taking in his surroundings, he replied, "The motel?"
"Was looking for a state but I guess motel will do. You seeing anything nuts like the creepy little people from the Wizard of Oz on their yellow brick road?"
"No. That watermark looks like a target!" Sam giggled as he pointed to the blob on the ceiling above his bed.
Dean crooked an eyebrow at Sam's behavior until he looked, too. "Close enough. You're concussed but your mental state is only as screwed as it usually is."
Eyes closing of their own accord, Sam muttered, "Left Jess for you. For you, Dean."
"Yeah, so we could find Dad, I get it."
"No, Dean. Just for you." Sam started to snore shortly thereafter and Dean wondered what the hell Sam had meant if it wasn't to look for their father.
*****
"Will you worship me forever and be my slave for life?" Dean appeared so smug.
"Just get the damn thing off me. No worshipping, no slave, just lift it so I can get out."
Dean sighed, "Guess I would have had to move you before I started stinky ablaze anyway. Killing is always so messy."
"Ugh," Sam peeled his saturated shirt away from his body. "I don't know what some of this gunk is--"
"Well, its--"
"And I don't want to know," Sam interrupted. "Get me out of here."
"Want first shower?" Dean asked on their way back to the motel. The most gross parts of Sam's clothing were in a bag in the trunk. Sam was sitting there on a plastic tarp for the sake of the pristine Impala.
"Did you hit your head? You never offer that. Are you sick or did you set up a prank before we left?"
"I'm fine and I sure as hell wouldn't tell you if you were walking into one of my masterpieces." Dean saw the look Sam shot his way. "No pranks. Just thought I'd be a nice brother. Sorry!"
"First shower would be great," Sam replied sweetly. "We'll have to talk about the pranking thing later."
"That's what you think," Dean mumbled. How dare Sammy try to take away his fun!
*****
Sam didn't sing in the shower. He was tone deaf and had contributed Dean playing the stereo so loud just to tune out his younger brother's caterwauling. But, in the shower, he'd hum. Sometimes the tune was something Dean recognized, other times it was either Sam's emo music or he'd butchered a good song so bad that it didn't survive Sam's version.
Dean added his trashed clothes to the bag from the car. He was sitting on the bed in his boxers when Sam appeared engulfed in steam.
"I feel so much better," he declared. He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck for emphasis.
"Good for you. Leave any hot water for the rest of us?" Dean snapped on his way past. He closed the bathroom door so hard that it rattled and drowned out Sam's retort.
*****
"Hey, Jess." Sam rubbed his temple with his free hand as he left a voicemail. "Still cruising with Dean looking for Dad. We're not getting much for leads but haven't given up yet. Hope school is going your way and the neighbors have been holding the noise down. I'll call back when I'm in range again. Take care. Bye."
Somewhere along the line, Sam had dropped his 'I love yous' from his messages. He missed Jess, there was no question of that. It was what he missed, or rather what he didn't miss that made him stop to think.
He'd always seen Dean as a hero when he was a kid. He fought monsters like their dad, except he was better since he could slay Sam's nightmares, too. John had always chastised Sam for being a baby and needing the comfort. Dean would just wait until John had left the room and was securely in bed or finding the bottom of a bottle and go back to Sam. He didn't leave Sam alone and scared. He didn't give him a .45 for the hanging mess of laundry in the closet, either. He'd taken the gun from Sam's shaky hands, set it aside, and proceeded to turn on the light and show him what his monster in the closet was made of.
Somewhere along the road, probably around puberty, he noticed how Dean had changed because he was changing himself. He'd compare his body to Dean's and wonder if he'd ever have a six pack like that or bulging biceps. Just when he thought he'd caught up to his big brother, Dean's' voice changed and he became quite popular with the girls. He'd tried to still have time for Sam, but his attraction to females won over his little brother unless Sam really needed him for safety reasons. Sam wouldn't readily admit to the emergencies he'd created to get Dean to cut his dates short. He didn't like being home alone. So to him, Dean's dates were cause of an emergency.
The dolled up girls in high school noticed Sam and he just did his best not to gag. They were the kind that Dean seemed to like, all painted up and fake. He did have one friend who just happened to be a girl at one of his several high schools. She was plain, nice and her face lit up when she smiled or laughed. She was the first girl Sam had ever kissed. If he hadn't moved away a week later, their relationship could have turned into something. He'd never know.
Jess was beautiful, there was no disregarding that. It was her bubbly personality and natural looks that attracted Sam to her. She didn't hide under layers of makeup or dress in clothes that left nothing to the imagination. She was a stable constant in his life. He'd never had to wonder where she was or worry if someone else had caught her eye because she just didn't work that way. Now, though, Sam just hoped that Jess had moved on. She deserved to be happy and he knew that there were several other guys out there ready to fill the space he'd left behind.
*****
Dean's leg still caused problems for him when the barometer went nuts. He tried to act like it didn't, but Sam noticed the slight limp, the extra care he took getting in and out of the car and the lines on his face as he attempted to deny how bad the pain was.
Knowing Dean as well as he did, Sam knew that Dean wouldn't go in to a doctor and get a prescription for pain pills. Dean did, however, get a couple bottles from a pharmacy with an out-dated security system. Sam's contribution to the problem solving was to get a heating pad and the converter that could plug into the cigarette lighter. When Dean was stuck in cramped places for a long time, he could plug in the converter and his heating pad. The warmth helped soothe the muscle but what would help the most was letting Sam drive and the only way Sam was allowed to do that was if Dean quit breathing first.
"I'll grab dinner if you want to take a soak." Sam put the motel key on the table and turned to Dean.
"Soak?"
"Yeah. Your leg?"
Dean's face didn't give anything away.
"I'm not blind. You've been in pain for the last few hours and too stubborn to say anything."
"How would you know?"
"At the last gas station, you didn't ask for peanut M&Ms. I filled the tank and you didn't as much as use the restroom. I haven't been able to drive or help care for the Impala since the accident."
"Tired, Sam. I'm allowed to be tired."
"Because you leg keeps you up at night."
Shaking his head, Dean turned around and stalked to the bathroom with a hitch in his step. "Whatever, Sammy. Hurry up with the chow."
Upon returning, Sam was surprised that Dean wasn't in the main room. He knocked on the bathroom door. "Dean? I'm back."
No answer.
"Dean?"
When he was met with silence again, Sam tried the knob. It was unlocked so he let himself in, calling once more for Dean as he did so.
The sight that greeted him affected him in a way he'd remembered from years before. No matter how he'd tried to forget his inappropriate attraction to Dean, he'd never been successful. Oh, he'd lied to himself, tried to trick himself into believing it, but it didn't change how he felt. Seeing Dean lying in the tub asleep, he felt a stirring in his belly that was getting harder and harder to ignore.
Sound asleep, the lines on Dean‘s face were shallower. His head was resting on the back of the tub while he'd contorted himself to fit and still have the aching part of his leg in the hot water. The temperature change must have helped for him to unwind enough to sleep.
He knew he couldn't just leave Dean there but he was hesitant to approach him in case it crumbled the walls he'd built around his emotions, at least the wrong ones, towards Dean. Taking care of his brother won out over what he wanted to do for himself.
A few steps took him to the edge of the bathtub. He tried not to look at the naked body as he dipped his fingers in the water. It was barely lukewarm, not something he could leave Dean in if he didn't want him to catch a cold.
"Dean," Sam touched his shoulder. "Come on, dude. Bath time's over."
Dean muttered but didn't wake.
Shaking Dean a little more, he spoke louder. "Hey, Dean! Food's waiting. Got you a bacon cheeseburger. Wake up."
"Huh?"
"Out you go." Sam gripped Dean's arm and helped him balance as he stepped from the tub, muscles that had long since cooled protesting every move.
"Damn, Sam. Why'd you let me sit in cold water?"
"Just got back. We needed to eat. You're lucky you didn't drown with how deep you were sleeping."
"I'd never do that."
"You weren't actually awake enough to keep your head above the water."
"Whatever." Dean tried to shrug him off but Sam moved just a step away in case gravity decided to cause Dean problems.
He tried not to watch as Dean dried himself. He tried not to see the way his muscles danced beneath his skin, what shape the droplets were as they slid down his body obscuring the scars that he knew all the stories behind.
He saw the sour look on Sam's face. "What's wrong, Francis? You eat bad salad dressing or something?"
Sam shook his head and went past Dean to the door. "Just thinking. You hate cold food. Better hurry up."
***
Later that night when Dean was trying to fall asleep, the image of Sam standing over him in the tub came back to haunt him. Was that want that he'd seen in Sam's eyes, or was he letting Sam's unconscious declaration fog his judgment? Still, when Sam had reached in and helped him out of the tub, he couldn't deny the feelings that rushed over him.
They'd grown up in close quarters and were alone most of the time. Neither of them had enough time or energy to make friends, so it was just the two of them for years. Dean had always kept a close eye on Sam, but as he hit puberty, what he saw and what he was looking for was different. He'd pushed those thoughts away and after Sam had left for Stanford, Dean thought the temptation would be gone, too. It was the whole out of sight, out of mind theory. It didn't work worth shit. Apparently, some of those feelings had never been too far below the surface for them to come back so soon after picking Sam up to look for Dad.
It was a few weeks later when they'd been celebrating a hunt gone well when words that were normally held back started to flow.
"You lightweight," Dean guided Sam back to their room. "I can't even take you out in public after a couple beers."
"I was at a bar, Dean."
"Yep," Dean shoved Sam through the door. "I saw you there."
"I don't feel too good."
"You emptied your stomach in the bushes on the way back here. There's nothing left to come up, dude. I even gave you my last mint, remember?" He sat Sam on a bed and gave him water and aspirin. "You'll feel like hell in the morning so I hope you had fun tonight."
"Of course. I was with you."
"Yeah, I'm just a riot. Like you don't get enough of me 24/7." Dean didn't trust Sam to stay on the bed if he leaned over to take off his shoes, so Dean removed them for him. "Stand up."
Sam stood on wobbly legs, clutching Dean as he tried to get Sam's jeans off of him without toppling him over. He'd opened the button and unzipped the front when Sam gripped his wrist and held his hand there. "Dean," he whined.
"I know you're tired. The sooner you let me go, the sooner you can get to sleep."
"No," Sam shook his head slowly. "I like this." He pressed Dean's hand to his growing bulge.
"Yeah, Sammy, but I'm not Jess."
"I love you, Dean."
"Of course you do, I'm a great brother."
"I love love you. Want to touch you like I shouldn't."
"You're drunk, Sam. You'll forget all about this by the morning."
"No I won't." Sam looked up at Dean and before Dean knew what was happening, Sam's lips were on his, rough and demanding.
For an instant, Dean knew that he had to break it off and step back. Then, he couldn't overpower years of denied passion and kissed Sam back with just as much fervor. His fingers got caught in Sam's long locks while his other hand moved to the back of Sam's jeans to ease them off.
Sam's lips moved down Dean's neck, kissing and nipping until he sucked the blood to the skin at the junction of his neck and shoulder. Then he moved his assault on Dean's senses back upwards. He took a moment to breathe in Dean's ear, "Want you."
It was all the encouragement Dean needed. He attacked Sam's mouth and demanded entrance. He discovered every part of his warm cavern and teased his tongue when they mingled.
The jeans Dean had been wearing were on the floor before he realized Sam had even unbuttoned them. Dean was too busy working Sam's shirt open. The kid wore way to many layers. After the flurry of fabric, Sam was only in his underwear and Dean was stark naked.
"Wanted this," Sam had much more skin available to tease and was engrossed in doing so.
Dean levered the both of them down to the bed before they fell over. Soon, Sam's boxers had disappeared and they were lost in the sensation of skin on skin, high on being able to touch what had been forbidden for so long. They fell asleep curled around each other on a cramped bed in what Dean would always deny was cuddling.
***
"My head," Sam moaned as he rolled toward the nightstand for more aspirin.
"You know better than to be such a lush." Dean had an uneasy feeling so he asked, "What's the last thing you remember last night? You were pretty trashed."
"That weird Goth chick at the bar wouldn't go away."
"She was the bartender, dude."
"Oh. That explains it."
"Anything else?"
Sam snorted. "Anything remotely embarrassing you would have captured with your camera phone and are planning to use in some diabolical plan against me in the future."
"No, no, nothing like that." Dean watched Sam's face closely, wondering if he'd just taken advantage of his little brother.
"You kept me from falling when I puked." A serious look crossed his face. "You kissed me."
"Yeah. Are we still cool?"
"You kissed me."
"You started it. We can chalk it up as drunken indiscretion and pretend it never happened."
"But, it finally did. I've wanted to." He looked back at Dean and that was when he realized that they were both sans clothing. "We . . . You . . ."
"Are we doing the freak out thing or are you just having difficulty stringing together words with that college brain of yours?"
"Did you want to go to bed with me?"
"Yes."
Sam laid back down and scooted closer to Dean. "Then, I think this was a wonderful idea." He kissed Dean's shoulder as he closed his eyes to sleep.
After a quick peck to the top of Sam's head, Dean drifted off again, no longer worried about what the morning would bring.
Author/Artist: my_sam_dean
Pairing: Sam/Dean, Sam/Jess
Fandom: Supernatural
Theme: (include the # and the theme) 2 - inner child
Disclaimer: I own nothing Supernatural.
Warnings: Slash, incest, off-screen character death
"You can't be serious," Sam stomped down the steps leading to his apartment's parking lot.
"Why not?" Dean was quick to reply. "This is Dad that we're talking about. How many times has he saved your ass?"
"He didn't. You always came to the rescue."
"Okay then. Do this for me. He's MY dad and he's missing. I haven't asked you for anything since you left to get your normal life. The only reason I'm here now is because I can't find him on my own. I've looked and called all his contacts. No one has heard from him."
"I guess I can take a couple days to help you look. I'll have to think of something to tell Jessica." Sam turned to go in. "Just wait here."
"Why don't you just tell her the truth, Sam? It'd be much easier."
"She doesn't deserve that, Dean. She's a nice girl and I'd hate for her to be scared of the darkness."
"Whatever. Just thought you'd have a better chance of keeping her if she really knew what was going on instead of catching you in a lie."
"Since when are you an expert on relationships?"
"I'm not. That's just big brother talking. Hurry up so you can get your ass back here. I'll take stock of our supplies while I wait."
Sam's feet felt like they were made of concrete and he trudged up the stairs and down the hall to his apartment and girlfriend who was anxiously waiting for him. Until tonight, she'd figured that Sam's brother Dean was dead. It was quite a shock for her to see him standing in the middle of the living room.
"Hey, babe," Sam gave her a hug.
"Where's Dean?"
"He's waiting for me downstairs. Listen, I have to leave town with him for a few days, a week at most."
"What about school?"
"We both know I can make up the classes when I return. Besides my professors love me."
"Where are you going? Dean said something about your dad?" Until that night, she'd thought Sam's dad was dead, too. It was a night for revelations.
"Yeah. We're going to track him down. He's been unreachable for too long. I'm sure he's fine, we just need to find him."
Jess stood to the side as she watched Sam pack his duffel.
"You said a week at most?"
Sam nodded. "I'll call you every night." He swung the strap over his shoulder. "I'm going to miss you, honey."
"Same here." Jess grasped the ends of his collar and pulled him down for a kiss. "I guess you 'd better get going. The sooner you're gone, the sooner you're back."
"That's my girl." Sam turned around when he got to the door. He didn't say anything, he just memorized how Jess looked in her Smurfs t-shirt and boy shorts. With a sigh, he continued down to where Dean was waiting.
"Took you long enough," Dean complained when Sam got in the passenger side. "Did you have to take time for a quickie with your chick while Dad is out there in danger?"
"Jess isn't a quickie kind of gal. Besides, how do you know Dad is in danger? He could have lost his cell or just turned it off if he's fighting with Bobby again."
"Call it a gut instinct." Dean started his baby. "I have an idea of where to begin. It's a long drive. Get some sleep and you can drive next shift."
"You never let me drive the Impala."
"Dad's never been missing, either. It's a whole new world, Sammy."
The lull of the engine pushed Sam off to sleep. Even though he'd had a couple years of sleeping in a real bed, he grew up with his cradle purring down the highway. It all came back to him quick. It was too deeply ingrained in the fabric of who he was to ever disappear completely.
*****
"I checked again with Bobby. No one has heard from Dad and Bobby said he hasn't run Dad off his property since when you were still with us."
"What was he hunting?"
"Don't know. I was doing my own gigs. We'd check in with each other every month or so. You know how hard it is to keep tabs on someone who is constantly on the move. I thought we had a pretty good system until I realized it had been two whole months and no one had heard from him, not just me."
"My turn to drive. I'm assuming we're driving straight through. To Bobby's place, right?"
"We could try Pastor Jim's but I don't feel like intruding."
"Bobby's it is." Sam edged the precious car from the parking spot and onto the road. "Does he still have that guard dog that would lick someone to death if they tried to break in?"
"Yeah. He's really scary. Bobby even lets him sleep at the foot of his bed."
"I thought he wasn't allowed in the house."
"Maybe Bobby's getting soft in his old age. Just don't bring it up when we're there. It's no skin off our backs if he wants to listen to his dog snore to high heaven every night."
Sam nodded. "Okay. Get some shuteye."
"Drive careful, Sammy. Don't hurt my girl."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
It was daylight when Sam was driving. He had the radio on low so as to let Dean sleep and still keep himself awake. He took notice of the beautiful landscape they were traveling through. He'd missed the variety of the road while living in one place.
The semi came out of nowhere. It flew through a stop sign and struck the passenger side of the Impala. The sound of crushing metal was drowned out by his own scream.
"Dean?" Sam wiped the blood from his eyes that was coming from a gash on his head. He reached over to where Dean sat, unmoving. "Dean! Man, say something!"
His eyes opened into slits as Dean moaned, "Ow, dammit." The door was crushed into the cab of the car and the impact had trapped his right leg under steel. "Sam, get me out of here."
"I'm trying, dude." Sam looked closer at how Dean was pinned in the car. "I'm calling for an ambulance. I don't know how they are going to get you out. Do you hurt anywhere besides your leg?"
"My leg? My leg doesn't hurt. My right arm might be broken, shoulder aches and my head is pounding like a marching band is practicing in there. Why'd you mention my leg?"
"No reason," Sam quickly covered his concern. "It was just a guess."
Dean kept up with the small talk most of the time until the paramedics arrived. By the time he was cut out of the car he was unconscious.
*****
Sam listened to the monitors beep at a steady pace. At least Dean wasn't setting off alarms like he did the first day. It didn't matter if it was a major or minor kind of alarm, it all startled Sam the same. His heart would stop only to restart when a nurse came in to turn off the noise, adjust something, declare that Dean was fine, and leave.
He hated hospitals. He was so out of practice and scared for his brother that he gave the medical facility their real information. That was one of the first rules their dad had taught them. They were to always remember what aliases they had to choose from and use them wisely. Oh well, at least he wasn't there to tell Sam how much he'd disappointed him again.
Dean was still unconscious a couple days after the accident. His body was broken and bruised. The leg that he hadn't been able to feel had a compound fracture of his femur. A couple of ribs were cracked and he had a doosy of a concussion. The shoulder he'd complained about was just a mass of bruises. His right arm was luckily sprained and not broken.
The Impala was as close to totaled as she could be. Bobby had picked her up and brought her back to the scrap yard. He was trying to save whatever parts he could and see if he could put the car back together from scratch. He was chasing down parts like a wild man while Sam waited with Dean at the hospital. When Dean woke up, he was sure to ask about his beloved car.
It was when Dean was starting to wake up that Sam realized how easy he could have lost him. Just the thought made it difficult for Sam to breathe. When a nurse came in to check Dean's vitals, Sam went out into the hall and tried to clear his head. But, there was no way he was going to get rid of how Dean had looked in the mangled car. That picture was burned in his brain forever.
He'd run to Stanford years before and had convinced himself that he wasn't running away, he was running toward a better future. His flimsy excuse didn't hold any more water now than it did back then. He'd left hunting because it was hard. John was the most bull-headed person that he knew and refused to listen to anyone--although Dean had broken through with reason a time or two. When he was younger, he didn't know what would be waiting for him in California. That was part of the thrill of it all. He had no problem leaving his dad, he actually couldn't wait to be out from under his thumb. Dean, though, Dean was like collateral damage. He'd wanted to keep in touch with Dean but soon found out the strain it was putting on him to be in the middle of a tug of war between him and their dad. That's when he stopped calling and gradually Dean's calls had ceased, too.
Now, Dean was the most important person to him. Sure, there was Jessica, but she was just a girlfriend. Dean was his brother and his best friend. He knew Sam inside and out and still accepted him as who he was. He couldn't even tell Jessica how he got the scars. The trust he'd forged with Jess was based on lies. It was getting complicated to remember the untruths that he'd told just so he could keep his story straight. It was all very tiring.
It was a long process for Dean to wake up fully and even longer for him to get discharged from the hospital. It didn’t matter if Dean flirted with the nurses or made their life difficult by claiming that he would be just fine at home. The nurses may have had to put up with him, but it was the doctor who held the power to let him go. And, he took more convincing.
By the time he was at Bobby's, he considered himself an expert on crutches until he climbed up to the second story to his and Sam's room. He'd been too stubborn to take Bobby's offer of the hide-a-bed in the living room.
Sam had followed him upstairs, staying one step behind so he could catch Dean if he stumbled. Once Dean plopped gracelessly onto his bed, Sam took Dean's shoe off, stowed the crutches by the nightstand but still in Dean's reach and struggled to get the covers over Dean's limp body.
"Just need some sleep, Sammy." Dean didn't even open his eyes.
"I know. I'll bring you up supper when it's time." Sam knew Dean was asleep before he'd even finished answering him. He propped Dean's cast up on a pillow and put a glass of water on his bedside table. Dean looked so young when he was asleep. The tension in his face was gone, probably due to the pain killers he was looped up on. Sam stood over his bed for a moment before he brushed his fingers along Dean's face to move his hair back and see how the bruises had healed. He quickly turned and went downstairs, almost afraid that Dean would wake up and demand to know why Sammy had touched him like that. Sam was scared because he himself didn't even know why he did it.
*****
"God, Sam, where are you?"
Sam hated the panic he heard in her voice. "I'm still with Dean."
"Didn't you get any of my messages? I've been worried sick!"
"I lost my phone for a couple days and just got your voicemails. Are you doing okay?" He hated lying about why he hadn't called. Truth was, he'd needed some time to figure his own head out. But, he couldn't tell her that without her questioning it further.
"I miss you," her voice softened. "When are you coming home?"
"Miss you, too, Jess." Sam tried to clear the lump from his throat. "There's been a new development. I think I'm going to be gone much longer than I intended."
"Your professors aren't going to put up with your absence much longer. It'd be a shame to have to do this semester all over again."
"That's what I needed to talk to you about. I'm going to drop this semester and help Dean find Dad. I can't just leave him to do it on his own."
"Why not? In all the time I've known you, you've never mentioned Dean or how he was. I had to drag his name out of you when you happened to mention a brother. Why are you all concerned now?"
'Because I never successfully ran away' was not going to be an acceptable answer. Neither was the fact that guilt made him come back to Dean in the first place, but now it was more like he couldn't imagine leaving Dean on his own. When he'd left for Stanford, he'd figured Dad would always be there for Dean. He didn't plan on the jerk ditching him and Dean hunting without backup.
"Isn't that what a good brother is supposed to do? I've been a shitty one but I'm trying to make it right. You have sisters, so I'm sure you can understand that." Sam felt bad for the guilt trip but couldn't think of a nicer way to accomplish what he knew he had to do.
She was speechless. Her sisters meant the world to her and even if they were states away, they still talked on the phone a couple times a week. She'd never want Sam to abandon his brother but she couldn't deny the fact that she wanted him home.
"Of course you should help Dean. I've just been out of my mind with worry the last few days. Do you have any idea how long it will take to find your dad? Do you have any leads?"
"Not yet." Sam couldn't tell her that he'd disappeared off the map. She'd wonder why someone, at least someone from his workplace, wouldn't have an idea of when he disappeared. "It could be some time. If you find someone else while I'm gone, I won't blame you."
"What? How can you even think that I'd replace you? Besides, I'm sure it won't be for too long and you can get back to your classes and me."
Sam didn't agree with her but he didn't have the heart to tell her so.
"You'll still call, right?"
Sam could hear the tears coming over the phone and knew he had to be quick. "Yeah. I'll even try to be better about checking my messages. You have my number if you need anything."
Jess fought to keep the heartbreak at bay. "I will. Just be careful, Sam. I love you."
"Love you, Jess. I have to go. Goodbye."
"Bye."
He held his head in his hands and wondered how Jess could still believe in him and want him back. He'd ignored her calls for his own benefit and it didn't seem to matter to her. It hadn't been his intention to hurt her, and yet he did. His goal had been to protect Dean.
Slipping his phone back in his pocket, he forced himself to think of something else, anything.
***
The second day they'd been at Bobby's, Dean had hobbled out into the yard to see the damage done to the Impala. Sam had found him there with a stricken look of devastation on his face.
As soon as Dean saw him, he slid this usual mask back into place. "At least we're okay. That's what matters," his voice was gruff as he shuffled past Sam.
Seeing the Impala spread out in parts was difficult for Sam. He couldn't imagine what Dean felt like. He'd spent hours over the years lovingly keeping her maintained and running in tip-top shape. All of that energy was down the tubes. Dean couldn't even work on his baby himself, he had to rely on Bobby to do it for him. As soon as he was more mobile, there would be no way to keep him inside. He'd be taking all his meals out in the yard, that is if he remembered to eat at all.
Great, Sam thought, he'd gone from feeling awful for what he'd done to Jess to feeling even worse about Dean's situation. It definitely wasn't his week.
*****
Parts came in on a regular basis and Bobby spent all day on the Impala whenever he could. As soon as Dean was feeling better, Bobby set a chair out there for Dean so he could watch him. When Sam had his back turned, Dean was lying under his baby with his casted leg protected with something he and Bobby had rigged up. Apparently, his directions and micro-managing had worn Bobby down to where he'd either have to find a way to allow Dean to get his hands dirty or gag him.
Playing in the dirt made Dean happy so it made life easier in the Singer household as a whole. Sam didn't have to worry if Dean was eating enough because being out in the fresh air had given him his appetite back. Dean slept better at night because he tired himself out during the day.
Sam found himself watching Dean more and more. Not exactly as a little brother should be eying the older brother, but he couldn't help it. How had he never noticed what Dean had looked like before? Sexuality seemed to ooze from him, and for the first time, Sam realized how the ladies at the bars felt when Dean's attention was directed their way.
As soon as the Impala was running again and Dean had ditched the cast, he was pestering Sam to get back on the road and continue their search for Dad. No new clues had surfaced during their unplanned period of recuperation. They'd made phone calls to all of Dad's contacts (again) and Bobby had tapped his own resources, too. It was simply too long for even John Winchester to have been gone without calling or at least running into someone who knew him and could report back to his sons.
"I don't think you should overdo it with the driving," Sam was trying to be helpful.
"You trying to tell me what I can and can't do?" snapped Dean. "If you are, stop it right now. I finally have my baby back and nothing, not even you, can prevent me from enjoying being back on the road with her."
Sam thought he heard Dean grumble something about how he'd tried to do the old girl in for good and decided that Dean was over being relieved that they were both in one piece and had switched to being mad at how careless Sam had been. Sam let the words slide and tried to assure himself that deep down he mattered more to Dean than the car.
Without another word about easing Dean back into life on the road, they made great time to another place in the middle of nowhere. Sam didn't even know how Dean had picked their route. It crossed his mind that they could have driven in circles all day and he wouldn't have noticed. He'd been sawing wood as soon as he'd disagreed with Dean about overexertion. Taking into account how many miles the motel they stayed at was from Bobby's, Sam was reasonably sure that Dean had carried them in one direction instead of meandering on the road.
"Feels good to be back in the saddle, doesn't it?" Dean sighed from the other bed as they watched some lame reality show that didn't require any concentration.
"It's a little early to tell being as its the first day, but yeah, I think it will."
"Bobby gave me an address for a hermit named Rufus that used to be a hunter."
"Are there any hunters who don't isolate themselves from everyone else? Think about it, Dean."
He ignored Sam's remark. "Anyhow, he seemed to think that if we showed up on the guy's doorstep we'd be more likely to get information from him. Apparently he's as well connected as Bobby but with a whole other group."
"Thought you might have an idea about where we were going."
"Do I ever not have a plan? Gees, you're making me sound as useless as I've felt since I woke up in the hospital. Could you give me some credit?"
Instantly chastised for his irresponsible words, Sam clammed up, thankful that the mindless chatter from the television covered the definite silence in the room.
*****
"Well, that was a waste of time," Dean complained as they left Rufus's house. "Not only did the old man frustrate me to a whole new level, he also insulted our family as a whole. What an ass!"
Sam couldn't disagree. Why had Bobby sent them when he knew what kind of reception they would get? Did Bobby not know of the hatred Rufus held for John and everything connected to the man?
"At least we can say we checked it out. Leaving no stone unturned and all that." He didn't really expect Dean to respond and took him roaring the Impala down the road as agreement.
*****
Another day, another version of pissed-off Dean.
"Can you just find us a hunt? Maybe we'll run into Dad if he's investigating the same incident."
"Didn't think you wanted to concentrate on anything other than the search for Dad."
"I changed my mind, alright? I'm allowed to do that every now and then, you know."
"Sure, Dean. I'll find us a hunt. So we're back to saving people, hunting things?"
"Did we ever really quit? I mean, I look for indication of any supernatural involvement each time I enter a diner. It's not like I really get a break."
All Sam could do was nod his agreement.
*****
"Dammit, Sam! How the hell could you let a spirit get the drop on you like that?"
Dean's words made Sam's head throb all the more. His heartbeat was keeping time with the pain in the rest of his body.
"Sorry. Guess I forgot the proper way to fly through the air while I was gone."
"Don't be a smartass with me. You know as well as I do how dangerous that could have been."
Knowing it would suck the wind out of Dean's sails, Sam stayed silent.
"I just don't get how you could forget something like that," Dean said mostly to himself. "Now, are you going to tell me where you're hurt or do I have to guess and go from there?"
"Head, back, ankle," Sam listed his injuries off.
"Concussion, bruised to hell and sprained," was Dean's determination after looking Sam over. "Better get some rest before I have to wake you up to check your mental state. I'm going to get ice."
Sam drifted off to sleep right after he heard the door click shut.
*****
"Sammy?" Dean shook him a little. "You awake, dude? Come on, you've got to talk to me here."
Dean wanted to talk? Sam had to have heard wrong. Dean never wanted to talk, even when it was the clear option that common sense suggested.
"Don't make me stick ice down your shirt to get you up. You know I'll do it."
Yep, Dean would. He'd done it before. Or maybe it was in retaliation for something Sam had done. In his fuddled mind, he couldn't remember.
"Am up," Sam mumbled.
"What was that? Sam, you've got to do better than that. You're headed for chill city if you don't."
"Up, up." Sam struggled to sit up.
"You scared me there. If you ever do that again, I'll kill you!"
Sam laughed, more like himself. "Wouldn't that defeat the point?"
"Shut up. You're missing the point." Dean shut off the light and slid into bed. "Night, Samantha. See ya in a couple hours."
"Night."
***
Had it really been over two hours since the last time Dean had pounced on him and made him wake up?
"I'm skipping the whole ice cube motivation and going right to an ice bath. Just warning you. Maybe you should answer me, the sooner the better."
Dean wanted him to answer?
"Couldn't put you in the middle." In his mind, Sam was back at Stanford. "Ripping you apart, not good."
"Ripping me apart? Sam! You're not making any sense. We got the wendigo over a month ago. We were going after a spirit when . . ." Dean let his sentence drift off. "Doesn't matter. Am I getting through to you or not? It's like we're not even in the same time zone."
"Wanted a better life for both of us. You didn't need to babysit and could just help Dad. Better all the way around."
"Sam! Yo, Sammy! Open your eyes or join the polar bear club. It's your choice. Open up those peepers."
Sam's eyelids fluttered and it took a few moments before he lost the utterly confused look. "Dean?"
"Yeah, still here. Know where we are?"
After taking in his surroundings, he replied, "The motel?"
"Was looking for a state but I guess motel will do. You seeing anything nuts like the creepy little people from the Wizard of Oz on their yellow brick road?"
"No. That watermark looks like a target!" Sam giggled as he pointed to the blob on the ceiling above his bed.
Dean crooked an eyebrow at Sam's behavior until he looked, too. "Close enough. You're concussed but your mental state is only as screwed as it usually is."
Eyes closing of their own accord, Sam muttered, "Left Jess for you. For you, Dean."
"Yeah, so we could find Dad, I get it."
"No, Dean. Just for you." Sam started to snore shortly thereafter and Dean wondered what the hell Sam had meant if it wasn't to look for their father.
*****
"Will you worship me forever and be my slave for life?" Dean appeared so smug.
"Just get the damn thing off me. No worshipping, no slave, just lift it so I can get out."
Dean sighed, "Guess I would have had to move you before I started stinky ablaze anyway. Killing is always so messy."
"Ugh," Sam peeled his saturated shirt away from his body. "I don't know what some of this gunk is--"
"Well, its--"
"And I don't want to know," Sam interrupted. "Get me out of here."
"Want first shower?" Dean asked on their way back to the motel. The most gross parts of Sam's clothing were in a bag in the trunk. Sam was sitting there on a plastic tarp for the sake of the pristine Impala.
"Did you hit your head? You never offer that. Are you sick or did you set up a prank before we left?"
"I'm fine and I sure as hell wouldn't tell you if you were walking into one of my masterpieces." Dean saw the look Sam shot his way. "No pranks. Just thought I'd be a nice brother. Sorry!"
"First shower would be great," Sam replied sweetly. "We'll have to talk about the pranking thing later."
"That's what you think," Dean mumbled. How dare Sammy try to take away his fun!
*****
Sam didn't sing in the shower. He was tone deaf and had contributed Dean playing the stereo so loud just to tune out his younger brother's caterwauling. But, in the shower, he'd hum. Sometimes the tune was something Dean recognized, other times it was either Sam's emo music or he'd butchered a good song so bad that it didn't survive Sam's version.
Dean added his trashed clothes to the bag from the car. He was sitting on the bed in his boxers when Sam appeared engulfed in steam.
"I feel so much better," he declared. He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck for emphasis.
"Good for you. Leave any hot water for the rest of us?" Dean snapped on his way past. He closed the bathroom door so hard that it rattled and drowned out Sam's retort.
*****
"Hey, Jess." Sam rubbed his temple with his free hand as he left a voicemail. "Still cruising with Dean looking for Dad. We're not getting much for leads but haven't given up yet. Hope school is going your way and the neighbors have been holding the noise down. I'll call back when I'm in range again. Take care. Bye."
Somewhere along the line, Sam had dropped his 'I love yous' from his messages. He missed Jess, there was no question of that. It was what he missed, or rather what he didn't miss that made him stop to think.
He'd always seen Dean as a hero when he was a kid. He fought monsters like their dad, except he was better since he could slay Sam's nightmares, too. John had always chastised Sam for being a baby and needing the comfort. Dean would just wait until John had left the room and was securely in bed or finding the bottom of a bottle and go back to Sam. He didn't leave Sam alone and scared. He didn't give him a .45 for the hanging mess of laundry in the closet, either. He'd taken the gun from Sam's shaky hands, set it aside, and proceeded to turn on the light and show him what his monster in the closet was made of.
Somewhere along the road, probably around puberty, he noticed how Dean had changed because he was changing himself. He'd compare his body to Dean's and wonder if he'd ever have a six pack like that or bulging biceps. Just when he thought he'd caught up to his big brother, Dean's' voice changed and he became quite popular with the girls. He'd tried to still have time for Sam, but his attraction to females won over his little brother unless Sam really needed him for safety reasons. Sam wouldn't readily admit to the emergencies he'd created to get Dean to cut his dates short. He didn't like being home alone. So to him, Dean's dates were cause of an emergency.
The dolled up girls in high school noticed Sam and he just did his best not to gag. They were the kind that Dean seemed to like, all painted up and fake. He did have one friend who just happened to be a girl at one of his several high schools. She was plain, nice and her face lit up when she smiled or laughed. She was the first girl Sam had ever kissed. If he hadn't moved away a week later, their relationship could have turned into something. He'd never know.
Jess was beautiful, there was no disregarding that. It was her bubbly personality and natural looks that attracted Sam to her. She didn't hide under layers of makeup or dress in clothes that left nothing to the imagination. She was a stable constant in his life. He'd never had to wonder where she was or worry if someone else had caught her eye because she just didn't work that way. Now, though, Sam just hoped that Jess had moved on. She deserved to be happy and he knew that there were several other guys out there ready to fill the space he'd left behind.
*****
Dean's leg still caused problems for him when the barometer went nuts. He tried to act like it didn't, but Sam noticed the slight limp, the extra care he took getting in and out of the car and the lines on his face as he attempted to deny how bad the pain was.
Knowing Dean as well as he did, Sam knew that Dean wouldn't go in to a doctor and get a prescription for pain pills. Dean did, however, get a couple bottles from a pharmacy with an out-dated security system. Sam's contribution to the problem solving was to get a heating pad and the converter that could plug into the cigarette lighter. When Dean was stuck in cramped places for a long time, he could plug in the converter and his heating pad. The warmth helped soothe the muscle but what would help the most was letting Sam drive and the only way Sam was allowed to do that was if Dean quit breathing first.
"I'll grab dinner if you want to take a soak." Sam put the motel key on the table and turned to Dean.
"Soak?"
"Yeah. Your leg?"
Dean's face didn't give anything away.
"I'm not blind. You've been in pain for the last few hours and too stubborn to say anything."
"How would you know?"
"At the last gas station, you didn't ask for peanut M&Ms. I filled the tank and you didn't as much as use the restroom. I haven't been able to drive or help care for the Impala since the accident."
"Tired, Sam. I'm allowed to be tired."
"Because you leg keeps you up at night."
Shaking his head, Dean turned around and stalked to the bathroom with a hitch in his step. "Whatever, Sammy. Hurry up with the chow."
Upon returning, Sam was surprised that Dean wasn't in the main room. He knocked on the bathroom door. "Dean? I'm back."
No answer.
"Dean?"
When he was met with silence again, Sam tried the knob. It was unlocked so he let himself in, calling once more for Dean as he did so.
The sight that greeted him affected him in a way he'd remembered from years before. No matter how he'd tried to forget his inappropriate attraction to Dean, he'd never been successful. Oh, he'd lied to himself, tried to trick himself into believing it, but it didn't change how he felt. Seeing Dean lying in the tub asleep, he felt a stirring in his belly that was getting harder and harder to ignore.
Sound asleep, the lines on Dean‘s face were shallower. His head was resting on the back of the tub while he'd contorted himself to fit and still have the aching part of his leg in the hot water. The temperature change must have helped for him to unwind enough to sleep.
He knew he couldn't just leave Dean there but he was hesitant to approach him in case it crumbled the walls he'd built around his emotions, at least the wrong ones, towards Dean. Taking care of his brother won out over what he wanted to do for himself.
A few steps took him to the edge of the bathtub. He tried not to look at the naked body as he dipped his fingers in the water. It was barely lukewarm, not something he could leave Dean in if he didn't want him to catch a cold.
"Dean," Sam touched his shoulder. "Come on, dude. Bath time's over."
Dean muttered but didn't wake.
Shaking Dean a little more, he spoke louder. "Hey, Dean! Food's waiting. Got you a bacon cheeseburger. Wake up."
"Huh?"
"Out you go." Sam gripped Dean's arm and helped him balance as he stepped from the tub, muscles that had long since cooled protesting every move.
"Damn, Sam. Why'd you let me sit in cold water?"
"Just got back. We needed to eat. You're lucky you didn't drown with how deep you were sleeping."
"I'd never do that."
"You weren't actually awake enough to keep your head above the water."
"Whatever." Dean tried to shrug him off but Sam moved just a step away in case gravity decided to cause Dean problems.
He tried not to watch as Dean dried himself. He tried not to see the way his muscles danced beneath his skin, what shape the droplets were as they slid down his body obscuring the scars that he knew all the stories behind.
He saw the sour look on Sam's face. "What's wrong, Francis? You eat bad salad dressing or something?"
Sam shook his head and went past Dean to the door. "Just thinking. You hate cold food. Better hurry up."
***
Later that night when Dean was trying to fall asleep, the image of Sam standing over him in the tub came back to haunt him. Was that want that he'd seen in Sam's eyes, or was he letting Sam's unconscious declaration fog his judgment? Still, when Sam had reached in and helped him out of the tub, he couldn't deny the feelings that rushed over him.
They'd grown up in close quarters and were alone most of the time. Neither of them had enough time or energy to make friends, so it was just the two of them for years. Dean had always kept a close eye on Sam, but as he hit puberty, what he saw and what he was looking for was different. He'd pushed those thoughts away and after Sam had left for Stanford, Dean thought the temptation would be gone, too. It was the whole out of sight, out of mind theory. It didn't work worth shit. Apparently, some of those feelings had never been too far below the surface for them to come back so soon after picking Sam up to look for Dad.
It was a few weeks later when they'd been celebrating a hunt gone well when words that were normally held back started to flow.
"You lightweight," Dean guided Sam back to their room. "I can't even take you out in public after a couple beers."
"I was at a bar, Dean."
"Yep," Dean shoved Sam through the door. "I saw you there."
"I don't feel too good."
"You emptied your stomach in the bushes on the way back here. There's nothing left to come up, dude. I even gave you my last mint, remember?" He sat Sam on a bed and gave him water and aspirin. "You'll feel like hell in the morning so I hope you had fun tonight."
"Of course. I was with you."
"Yeah, I'm just a riot. Like you don't get enough of me 24/7." Dean didn't trust Sam to stay on the bed if he leaned over to take off his shoes, so Dean removed them for him. "Stand up."
Sam stood on wobbly legs, clutching Dean as he tried to get Sam's jeans off of him without toppling him over. He'd opened the button and unzipped the front when Sam gripped his wrist and held his hand there. "Dean," he whined.
"I know you're tired. The sooner you let me go, the sooner you can get to sleep."
"No," Sam shook his head slowly. "I like this." He pressed Dean's hand to his growing bulge.
"Yeah, Sammy, but I'm not Jess."
"I love you, Dean."
"Of course you do, I'm a great brother."
"I love love you. Want to touch you like I shouldn't."
"You're drunk, Sam. You'll forget all about this by the morning."
"No I won't." Sam looked up at Dean and before Dean knew what was happening, Sam's lips were on his, rough and demanding.
For an instant, Dean knew that he had to break it off and step back. Then, he couldn't overpower years of denied passion and kissed Sam back with just as much fervor. His fingers got caught in Sam's long locks while his other hand moved to the back of Sam's jeans to ease them off.
Sam's lips moved down Dean's neck, kissing and nipping until he sucked the blood to the skin at the junction of his neck and shoulder. Then he moved his assault on Dean's senses back upwards. He took a moment to breathe in Dean's ear, "Want you."
It was all the encouragement Dean needed. He attacked Sam's mouth and demanded entrance. He discovered every part of his warm cavern and teased his tongue when they mingled.
The jeans Dean had been wearing were on the floor before he realized Sam had even unbuttoned them. Dean was too busy working Sam's shirt open. The kid wore way to many layers. After the flurry of fabric, Sam was only in his underwear and Dean was stark naked.
"Wanted this," Sam had much more skin available to tease and was engrossed in doing so.
Dean levered the both of them down to the bed before they fell over. Soon, Sam's boxers had disappeared and they were lost in the sensation of skin on skin, high on being able to touch what had been forbidden for so long. They fell asleep curled around each other on a cramped bed in what Dean would always deny was cuddling.
***
"My head," Sam moaned as he rolled toward the nightstand for more aspirin.
"You know better than to be such a lush." Dean had an uneasy feeling so he asked, "What's the last thing you remember last night? You were pretty trashed."
"That weird Goth chick at the bar wouldn't go away."
"She was the bartender, dude."
"Oh. That explains it."
"Anything else?"
Sam snorted. "Anything remotely embarrassing you would have captured with your camera phone and are planning to use in some diabolical plan against me in the future."
"No, no, nothing like that." Dean watched Sam's face closely, wondering if he'd just taken advantage of his little brother.
"You kept me from falling when I puked." A serious look crossed his face. "You kissed me."
"Yeah. Are we still cool?"
"You kissed me."
"You started it. We can chalk it up as drunken indiscretion and pretend it never happened."
"But, it finally did. I've wanted to." He looked back at Dean and that was when he realized that they were both sans clothing. "We . . . You . . ."
"Are we doing the freak out thing or are you just having difficulty stringing together words with that college brain of yours?"
"Did you want to go to bed with me?"
"Yes."
Sam laid back down and scooted closer to Dean. "Then, I think this was a wonderful idea." He kissed Dean's shoulder as he closed his eyes to sleep.
After a quick peck to the top of Sam's head, Dean drifted off again, no longer worried about what the morning would bring.