Part of my Deleted Scenes series. Full list of fics in reading order available on my profile page. They will make more sense if read in order. :)

Sam spends the entire time Dean's with Lisa making phone call after phone call and trying to collect all the information he can about Mom's friends, like the blonde girl told him to, and what he finds completely freaks him out. He doesn't know how it's possible that almost every person his mom ever met could be dead, but there doesn't seem to be any way around it. It can't possibly be a coincidence. There's just no way. Things like that don't just happen. Not in Sam's life, anyway. He calls the number she wrote on his hand because he doesn't know what else to do. He doesn't really want to see her again, but she knows something about Sam's mom and Sam's life and he has to find out what it is.

And then he really, really wishes he hadn't. She comes over to his motel room and she's a demon and her name's Ruby and she makes Sam's skin crawl with everything she seems to know about his family. She says she wants to help him, says she can help him save Dean, and Sam wants to believe her but he can't. He kicks her out, even though he isn't stupid enough to think it's the last he'll see of her. And then he just paces and lets his mind race frantically and tries his best to wrap his head around everything. When that doesn't work, he picks up a gun and starts absently cleaning it in a lame attempt to take his mind off everything. He doesn't come even close, and by the time Dean gets back, Sam's upset and confused and frustrated and the cocky smile Dean gives him when he walks through the door is just enough to set Sam off. Sam was already annoyed with him for making them come here in the first place, because he really doesn't know why Dean's suddenly decided having sex with people who aren't Sam is no big deal, but Sam also doesn't feel like he has the right to tell Dean not to. Not after what Dean sacrificed to bring Sam back to life.

"Have a good time?" he asks irritably.

Dean shrugs. "I guess. I was only there for like five minutes after you left. Just said goodbye, that was about it."

Sam rolls his eyes. "Sure. 'Course you were. And then you, what, just sat in your car staring into space for the last hour?"

"I was hungry, I grabbed a bite. Plus, I mean, you took the car. It took me a while to walk back here." Dean's eyebrows scrunch in the middle and he looks warily over at Sam. "What's wrong with you?"

"You really don't know?" Sam says sarcastically. "C'mon, Dean, you're a smart guy. I bet if you tried really hard, you could figure out why I might be annoyed that you hooked up with her and are now lying about it."

"I didn't. I told you. She thanked me for saving Ben, and then I left. That was it."

"Y'know, that would be a lot easier to believe if we hadn't driven all the way here just so you could hook up with her. But oh yeah, that's right, that's exactly what happened!"

Dean glares. "Fine, don't believe me if you don't want to. Doesn't change anything. I still didn't sleep with her. She and her kid just almost died, if you didn't notice. In my experience, that doesn't usually put someone in the mood. And speaking of moods, you're clearly in one, so maybe I should come back when you've unbunched your panties."

"You're an asshole."

"I'm aware of that," Dean says dryly, shrugging out of his coat and tossing it on the bed. "Any particular reason this time?"

Sam just sighs and turns away and doesn't answer. He knows he's being a jerk himself, but nothing is right lately and he hates it. Dean has been so distant, like he suddenly doesn't want anything to do with Sam. Sam doesn't know what he's supposed to do about it. "So are we, like, not together anymore?"

Dean pauses, and then he says, "What?"

Sam turns back around and drops his arms down by his sides exhaustedly. "You and me. I mean, I don't remember us breaking up again, but you've been avoiding touching me like you think I'm contagious, I honestly can't remember the last time we slept in separate beds for this long, and you've been having kinky sex parties and looking up old girlfriends – "

"Lisa wasn't a girlfriend," Dean interrupts. "She was a drunk chick I banged when I was nineteen."

"Yeah, okay, well whatever, the point still stands. The thing with the twins a couple weeks ago, at the time I kinda thought that was like a bucket-list type deal so I didn't say anything. But we just drove, I don't know, however-many-thousand miles so you could hook up with that drunk chick you banged when you were nineteen again, so … I don't know, Dean, what exactly am I supposed to think about that?"

"You can think whatever you want," Dean answers unfeelingly.

Sam sighs again. He hates this, and hates even more that he doesn't have a clue how to fix it. "Yeah. Okay."

For a few minutes, Sam just goes back to cleaning his gun and tries to put everything out of his mind. It doesn't really work, but he goes a little numb with the methodic movements, and it's better than nothing. But then Dean speaks again, softly and almost emotionlessly but not quite.

"That's all you're gonna say? 'Yeah, okay' and now we're done talking about this?"

Sam closes his eyes. "What would you like me to say?"

"I don't know, something. Be pissed off at me, maybe?"

"That's what you want? Is that why you did all those things? Because you want me to be mad at you?"

"Wouldn't it be easier if you were?"

Sam looks up at him and narrows his eyes. "Wouldn't what be easier?"

"Losing me."

Sam sort of knew Dean was going to say it before he did, but even still it hits him hard enough in the chest that it takes him a minute to recover. But when he manages to come back to himself enough to tell Dean off for being such a goddamn idiot, Sam can't do it. He can't tell Dean how to react to what he's going through, and he isn't altogether surprised by Dean resorting back to his old lifestyle of casual sex and pretending everything is fine when it isn't. Sam can't really tell him to stop it, but he sure as hell doesn't have to stand around and watch as Dean destroys everything they've built together in the last two years.

"Alright," he mutters. "Whatever. I'm gonna get some air."

He turns around and walks out of the motel room before Dean has a chance to answer, closing the door behind him. After only a few seconds it opens again, like Sam should have known it would, and Dean calls after him.

"Sammy, c'mon. Don't – what, are you leaving now?"

"I'm not leaving, Dean. I'm just ... I don't know. Going for a walk. I just need to clear my head, okay? Look," Sam adds, reaching into his pocket for the keys and then tossing them to Dean. "Alright? I'll be back in a bit, I promise."

Sam only gets about twenty yards away before he hears Dean calling his name again, followed by heavy footsteps behind him. He turns around to see Dean jogging towards him, and Sam exhales heavily.

"Dean, what?"

"I'm sorry," Dean says, stopping a few feet from Sam and then hesitating, like he wants to come closer but decides against it. "You're right, I'm being a jerk. It isn't about you, though, okay? I promise it isn't."

"You wanna tell me what it is about, then?" Sam asks, even though he doesn't expect Dean to actually answer and he isn't at all surprised when Dean just drops his gaze and switches back into the mode where he pretends nothing's wrong.

"Can we go back inside?"

"Why? What else is there to say if you're not gonna talk to me about this?"

"I won't sleep with anyone else, alright?"

"Dean." Sam sighs.

"I mean it. You and me are … whatever. And I like it that way, even if I'm not always so good at letting you know that. So if you want it to be just us, then I can do that."

"That used to be what you wanted too," Sam points out, annoyance sparking under his skin again when Dean just shrugs.

"Where was this three days ago when I told you I wanted to come here? You acted like you were totally fine with it then."

"Because I didn't wanna have to hear you say you're done with me! And what exactly was I supposed to say, Dean? You sold your soul to save me. I kinda feel like … I don't know, like that takes away my right to tell you what you can and can't do. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you, how am I supposed to get mad at you after something like that? And, shit, I meant what I said the other week, about you deserving to have a little fun. You do, and I don't wanna get in the way of that."

"Stop. You're not," Dean says firmly. "And look, it isn't just about that, okay?"

"Then what is it about?"

"I can't …" Dean sighs and rubs his hands over his face. "Sam, I can't think about it."

"Think about what?"

"Everything. All of it. I just can't." He looks up at Sam with tired eyes. "The only way I'm gonna stay relatively sane here is if I just keep moving. If I stay distracted. And when I look at you … when I look at you, it's all I can think about. When I was with those girls, it was just sex, you know? It would've been that way with Lisa too. It was easy and simple and it didn't mean anything. With you it does, and I can't handle what it means right now. I know that probably doesn't make any sense to you, but I … I just can't."

"Yeah, it does make sense, actually. I feel it too, alright? But you know what, tough shit." Sam steps closer to Dean and puts his hands on Dean's shoulders. "It's you and me, do you hear me? We are in this up to our freakin' nuts but we are in it together and I'm not letting you push me away because you think it'll make things easier. It won't, so just cut it out."

Dean rolls his eyes but that probably means Sam got through to him, at least temporarily. "C'mon," he says, nodding back towards the room.

Sam follows him to it, and then when they're almost there, an older woman crosses in front of them on the way to her car, and Dean stops. Sam's about to ask what he's doing, when Dean turns around, slides one arm around Sam's neck, and pulls him in for a kiss. Sam's too shocked to kiss back for a moment, because Dean is usually so, so insistent that they're just brothers when they're in public. The thought occurs to Sam that Dean's kissing him right now because there's someone else around; because Dean has something he wants to prove to Sam, and probably also to himself.

Dean grabs Sam's elbow, roughly pulling him in closer. It's instantly quick and insistent and desperate, Sam letting go of all the emotions he's been trying to keep under control, even though he hasn't been doing such a great job of it anyway. Sam hears a ragged moan escape from someone's throat and he can't tell if it's him or Dean, but it doesn't matter. All that matters is Dean's lips on him again, Dean's body pressed into him, in his arms, holding him and licking at his tongue and wanting him when Sam thought maybe he didn't anymore. It's been almost three weeks since the last time Dean kissed him, and that's a really long time. Sam remembers how it felt to be fifteen and completely in love with his big brother and devastated because he was sure Dean wouldn't ever love him back, and every time Dean pulls away from him Sam goes right back to that dark place, to all those despairing thoughts that he wasn't good enough to deserve Dean's love.

When Dean pulls back, Sam flicks his gaze over to the woman to see if they're about to be yelled at. She's sort of watching them and trying not to at the same time, but she doesn't look angry. She looks like a person caught in somebody else's intimate moment who doesn't know what to do about it. Dean kisses the corner of Sam's mouth one more time and then turns around and starts walking again like nothing happened.

He offers the woman a polite, "Nice day, isn't it?" as he passes, and she blinks like a deer in the headlights and babbles, "It's … there's … sun," and Sam has to bite his bottom lip to keep from cracking up.

They pack up their few belongings in silence and toss the bags into the trunk of the car. Dean holds up the keys, wordlessly offering to let Sam drive, but Sam shakes his head. He knows where he belongs, and he likes it better in the passenger's seat anyway. He just won't tell Dean that.

"I … uh," Dean starts, as he pulls the Impala onto the highway. He hesitates, laughing a little although it's humorless. "I thought her kid might'a been mine. It was just for a second, but it … I don't know. It threw me a little."

Sam frowns. "You did?"

"Yeah. The timing fit, you know? I was with her eight years ago, and Ben was turning eight."

"He isn't, though, right?"

"Nah. But I …" Dean sighs and trails off.

"What?" Sam pushes gently.

"I know it's stupid. But I was actually a little bummed out when she said he wasn't."

"You … why?"

"Not 'cause I want a kid or something. Just … I don't know. I guess with this whole deal thing, knowin' I only got a year left, it just would'a been nice to feel like I'm leavin' something behind. That … that I've done something that matters."

"Are you nuts? You've done a million things that matter, Dean. Every single person you've ever saved matters. There are people all over this country, hundreds of them, maybe even thousands, who're alive right now because of you. If you ask me, that's a hell of a lot to leave behind."

Dean nods, and then for a long time, neither of them say anything else. Sam watches the trees wiz by the window and he watches the pavement and yellow lines disappear underneath the Impala's hood and he watches his brother, out of the corner of his eye, looking for any indication that Dean believes what Sam said, even though he doesn't find one.

After a while, out of nowhere, Dean says, "I really didn't sleep with her."

Sam looks over at him, and Dean looks back. He stares for just a moment into Dean's tired green eyes, and it's long enough to know Dean's telling the truth. Part of him wants to point out that Dean intended to sleep with her so the fact that he didn't end up doing it doesn't actually change anything, but Sam lets it go instead. "Okay."

Dean smiles just a little and then looks back at the road.

"Y'know, I remember that trip you took, when you first met her. Me'n Dad had never actually been alone together before that. It kinda sucked."

Dean laughs. "Yeah. Sorry 'bout that. You two never did figure out how to get along without me runnin' interference."

"Do you remember why you left?" Sam asks quietly. "You were really pissed at me."

"Yeah, I do. And no I wasn't," Dean says with a sigh. "We'd just kissed for the first time. And I was freaking out. You were my little brother, I wasn't supposed to feel … well. You know. How I felt."

Sam nods. "I thought … I mean, at the time I thought it was because you didn't want anything to do with me. That you were … I don't know, disgusted. Or whatever."

"I know you did. Wasn't exactly easy for me either."

"Was it weird to see her again?" Sam asks.

Dean blows out a breath. "Totally weird. She was … well, older. Not in a bad way, just … eight years is longer than I thought, I guess."

"What do you mean?"

"She's got this whole different life than she did when I knew her. A kid and a house in the suburbs, and … I mean, I don't know what she does for a living but she must have a job of some kind, right, so she's just … she isn't really the same person." He sighs, and pauses for a moment before he continues. "And shit's changed for me too, but it's just weird that I saw her again when I'm kinda back in the same place I was when I first met her. Starin' down the barrel at something life changing, and … and runnin' away from what I feel for you."

Sam nods, Dean's words hitting a minor chord in his chest. He reaches over and picks Dean's hand up from where it's sitting on Dean's thigh, bringing it up to his mouth and kissing the back of it. "Don't run anymore."

"I won't," Dean says softly. He voice changes to a teasing lilt as he adds, "No more kinky sex parties. Promise."

Sam smiles. He wraps Dean's hand up in both of his and then rests all three of them in his lap. "You can have all the kinky sex parties you want. Just have 'em with me."

Dean chuckles, deep and rich and it's like warm honey running down Sam's spine. "Okay. Deal."