Disclaimer: I do not condone these acts. This is just a work of fiction. Please read summary for possible trigger warnings.

It started off small. Just glances that lasted too long and touches that lingered. When Dean took the time to think back, he figured it was inevitable. And that was just the sad truth. With the way their life was set up, all Sam and Dean had was each other. No friends or family besides Dad, but he was absent most of the time. He wasn't there to witness the progression of his son's relationship.

He wasn't there the night little Sammy, at just thirteen, came into Dean's bed crying about a nightmare. Their father was never there, so it was Dean's duty to calm Sam. So Dean held his little brother close, stroking his too long hair and letting him know that it was all going to be okay.

"De.." Sam shifted so he could look up at Dean, his face wet with tears, glistening in the moonlight. Beautiful.

Dean knew it was done then, that there was no way he'd be able to hold back.

"Yeah, Sammy." Dean whispered as he leaned in, his hand already cupping Sam's warm cheek. He watched as his brother's eyes fluttered shut when their lips touched. Dean was overwhelmed with emotions, with how wrong it was, how wrong it was that he needed it. He needed Sammy and so he kissed him lovingly, like he knew he wouldn't do with anyone else.

That was the night of their first kiss, the real and true start of it all. Dean made sure to stop it at just a kiss then, urging Sam to go to sleep. Thinking about Sam that way, in a sexual way, made him panic. It also made him shamefully hard, but he chose to cling to the panic and the guilt, in the hopes it would give Sam time to walk away.

Dean really should have known that it wouldn't have been that easy. That long make out sessions wouldn't be enough for his hormone filled little brother. It had been a year before Sam asked for anything more and Dean was fine with waiting until he heard those words slip from his Sammy's mouth.

"Dean, please." Sam gasped, his lips slick and slightly swollen from their kiss. Dean's mind was a little fuzzy at first, as it always was when he and Sam got like that. He blinked down at the fourteen year old's position. He hadn't even noticed when Sam threw a leg over his thigh, but he sure noticed when the boy started to grind against it, panting and moaning softly.

It shouldn't have been so hot but it was, and Dean finally noticed his painful erection that he refused to acknowledge during the year.

"Shit, Sammy." Dean groaned, his hands moving on their own accord and landing on Sam's hips. "I-I dunno, man.." He gave weakly, so weak in fact that his brother wasn't even listening.

"I've tried to wait, but, but it hurts! Hurts so much, De. Need you so bad."

Dean shut his eyes and took in a deep, shaky breath. It was wrong, so fucking wrong how much he wanted Sam. How badly he wanted to fuck Sam into this dirty old couch in this abandoned cabin. Sam's begging broke down whatever walls he had up, but he knew for a fact that they wouldn't go that far, no matter how much Sam begged.

He was still so young. He didn't know shit but neither did Dean. All the eighteen year old knew was hunting and his baby brother. "Okay." Dean sighed as he finally opened his eyes.

"Okay. I'm gonna take care of you, baby boy."

The younger Winchester's face lit up, dimples and all, and that made it all worth it. "Yes, please, Dean." Sam begged and Dean couldn't help but grin. He worked to unbutton Sam's jeans, his hands starting to shake once he noticed the wet spot on Sam's boxers.

"Damn.. You really want me, huh?" Dean's voice was almost breathless, like he couldn't believe it. His hand wrapped around the shaft, it was an already impressive size for his age.

"Yes, De!" Sam moaned, "Wanted you for so long, way before we even-oh god-" Sam's head fell onto Dean's shoulder as his brother pumped his length, his hips humping into the fist at a much faster pace. Dean moaned out at Sam's admission, and he couldn't even curse at himself for finding it so fucking hot that Sam wanted him for so long with how erratically the boy was moving.

"God, Sammy. Slow down, let me-" But before Dean could say another word, Sam screamed out his name, it echoed through the cabin, and suddenly Dean's shirt was covered in his little brother's spunk. Sam fell against Dean, boneless and tired. And all Dean could do was wrap his arms around him.

"Sorry. Couldn't hold it." Sam mumbled against Dean's neck. The older boy smiled fondly, the hand that he didn't just use to jack his brother off combing through sweaty strands of chestnut colored hair.

"It's okay, baby." Dean assured him, leaning back so he could leave a small kiss on Sam's cheek. He could feel Sam's content smile on his skin and those long fingers toying with the necklace Sam had got him.

Things were gonna be okay, Dean thought. What they were doing felt good and made them happy. It just wasn't fair that it was bad and wrong. it wasn't fair that life put them in a position to be that way.

But Dean also knew that it didn't matter. Even if their life was different, even if their mom didn't die a fiery death at the hands of a demon-the very thing that warped their father's mind and changed everything-they would have still found themselves in that moment. Maybe not in a run down cabin, but Dean would still be somewhere holding Sam just like that.

Because Sam was his. And Dean was Sam's. And there'd be nothing to change that.

So, Dean let himself get comfortable. He let himself fall deeper in love with Sam. He would even say in doing so, he became careless. Kissing Sam whenever he wanted, even if their dad was in the same house. He figured if there was at least a wall in between them, their dad would never find out. And it had worked, for awhile.

Dean knew not to be stupid, however. When John was around, it was only stolen kisses and rushed hand jobs in the dead of night. That was as far as Dean would let it go, even when the brothers were alone. Okay, there was the occasional blowjob, but it was mostly Dean doing it to Sam. He wanted his Sammy to feel good, and was so scared of accidently making Sam do something he didn't want to do.

It took a lot of begging on Sam's part for it to finally happen, and once it did, Dean wondered why he waited so long. His baby brother was better than any girl-or guy, he wasn't picky-he'd ever been with. Sam got on his knees and looked up at him, a playful glint in his slanted eyes.

"Are you sure, Sam? We can stop at any point." Dean reminded him for the millionth time, his fingers carding through Sam's hair. He shivered once he felt Sam's hands wrap around his length, something he was already used to, but the promise of something new had him on edge. Sam answered by giving the head a nice lick, sucking up the pre come pooling at the slit.

"Jesus, baby.." Dean groaned, gruff and low. He could see Sam shiver and palm at his own hard on. He was about to tell Sam that he could jack himself off if he wanted, but was left mute once those pretty little lips took in the head of his cock. Sam took it in greedily, as much as he could without coughing. The pace was a little fast and just a little sloppy, but it was still one of the hottest things Dean Winchester had ever experienced.

Sam's mouth, Sam's tongue and Sam's fucking eyes threw Dean right over the edge. He came hard, his grip tight in his little brother's hair and he just took it all, swallowing every last drop. When he finally pulled away from the softening length, Dean scooped him up and kissed him deep, not even caring that he could taste himself on Sam's tongue. His brother moaned happily into it, his long arms wrapping around his big brother's shoulders.

"Love you so fucking much, Sammy." Dean whispered as he pulled away. And it wasn't even the afterglow talking. He loved his brother more than anything. More than hunting, more than the Impala that he got for his sixteenth birthday, and way more than dad. Of course, their love was something different, something that went way beyond family.

"I love you, De. More than anything." Sam mumbled and Dean almost wanted to cry. He didn't though, for the sake of his pride, and just sat his baby boy down and returned the favor.

Sam was fifteen when he started to ask for Dean to fuck him. Well, it started off as asking, but it quickly progressed into never ending begging. Dean usually couldn't say no to those puppy dog eyes, but that was where he drew the line. That was until their dad had a case in North Carolina, nearly a year later.

"Dean," Sam whispered one evening during a rather intense make out session. "Mhm?" Dean gave as he peppered kisses over his Sammy's cheek and neck. Dean's mind was in that hazy state again, his hands absentmindedly running over his brother's bare chest.

"It's my birthday." Sam said lightly, his fingers running through Dean's short hair. His big brother looked up at him with a lopsided grin.

"I know that, doofus. You got your present already." Dean said as he motioned toward the small dining table in the middle of the motel room. Dean had taken chunk out of his savings and got Sam a new laptop. He'd been so grateful that he threw himself in Dean's arms almost immediately. Which was how they found themselves on one of the beds with Sam on top of him.

Sam rolled his hips at the insult and it made Dean moan in surprise, "Shut up." Sam said, but there was no heat to it, just that playful glint in his eyes that his big brother loved so much.

"I'm.. I'm sixteen. It's the age of consent in North Carolina." Sam's voice was small and light, like he was nervous about something. Dean was more than a little confused.

"Okay, and that's supposed to make what we do less illegal?" Dean hoped it didn't come off in a mean way. It was just a fact. Thinking about how young Sam was when it all started always made Dean feel guilty, so he chose to push that thought away and focus on the fact that they were brothers. He was pretty sure that was illegal in most states. So no matter how you spun it, what they were doing was wrong in the eyes of the law and that was just the cold hard truth.

Sam only rolled his eyes. He had always been unphased by the rules of it all. "Whatever." Sam sighed as he rolled his hips again, making sure to press his bottom right on Dean's hard dick. The older Winchester let out a grunt and glared as his tease of a brother.

"I just need you, De. Need you all the way, need you in me. I know you think I'm too young but I promise I'm not." Sam was practically pouting, his movements still working at a too slow pace, driving Dean insane. He took in a deep breath and shook his head. He sure sounded too young.

It made sense to Dean in that moment why Sam brought it up. Another begging session, fan-fucking-tastic, Dean thought with a sigh.

"I love you, Dean. You gotta know that you're the only one I'd wanna do this with." Sam whispered in his big brother's ear, his lips ghosting by the shell of it, licking gently. Dean shivered and gripped tightly at Sam's hips, but not enough to actually stop the grinding. He was weak, he knew this. Especially with Sam professing his love to him, telling him how badly he needed Dean.

He couldn't help but imagine it. Sam on the bed, naked, legs spread all for him. He'd be so tight and warm and better than anything he'd ever had and that was both amazing and scary. It'd feel so good, he knew this, but they couldn't..

But maybe he could at least do something else, something close to what Sam wanted.

"Get naked." Dean growled and Sam didn't question him. He took off his shorts and boxers and laid down on his back, excitement rolling off him in waves. Dean smiled and kissed his forehead.

"Sorry, baby boy. We're not doing that." He could hear the whining start already. "We're doing something close though. You'll like it, I promise." He gave his pouting brother a quick kiss before lowering himself. "On your hands and knees."

Sam blushed at the order but did as he was told, his face down and ass up like a damn porn star and Dean couldn't help but curse. Sam's bottom was gorgeous, and smooth to the touch. Dean kneaded into the flesh, massaging into it because that's what Sammy liked . Pushing into his hands and moaning into the pillow, he was already leaking onto the seats and it made Dean decide to stop wasting time and pull the cheeks apart.

"Fuck, Sam.." Dean mumbled once he saw the tight little hole. It was so pretty, so perfect, and everything in the older Winchester wanted to ruin it. He wanted to fuck it loose, make it all pink and swollen and fuck-he really had to lose that train of thought. Instead he just used his tongue and licked down the crack of Sam's ass, skimming past the rim and down the perineum. He'd done this before, with guys and girls, and he knew exactly how to do it to get it done just right.

And as usual, it was better with Sam. Dean figured it'd always be like that.

"Oh, my god-what?" Sam gasped at the unfamiliar feeling. It turned into pure whimpering by the time Dean got around the to the rim, slicking it up with spit before sticking the muscle inside, the tightness sucking him in like a vice.

"D-Dean!" Sam moaned, his body already shaking, "God, De.. Yes!" He always sounded so young when he used that nickname, and Dean hated to admit how turned on that made him. But he was already eating his little brother's ass-Sam rutting into it, begging for more, "Please!"-there wasn't much to feel bad about anymore.

Dean had a rhythm of fucking his tongue inside and letting it out, and lapping at the loosening hole. Still so damn tight, just relaxing itself for Dean, and that made everything so much harder to resist.

He could tell Sam needed more. So he scooted up just a little bit, brought his fingers to Sam's red face. "Suck." Dean ordered, his voice gruff with obvious arousal. Sam's movements were a little sluggish but he followed through, sticking a digit in his mouth, slicking it up all nice and wet. Dean knew that it would be better with lube but he had none, and prayed that he didn't hurt him by accident.

"Good boy, Sammy." Dean praised once he got his hand back. He circled the rim, it was still wet and loosened from his tongue. "Gonna finger you, baby boy. Just relax and let me in. If it hurts too much, all you gotta do is tell me to stop and-"

"Dean just fucking do it, please! I need something!" Sam begged, so desperate for anything Dean was willing to give, his hips bucking against his brother's fingers. Dean licked his lips and nodded, his finger breaching through. "God.." Dean moaned out loud. Sam showed little resistance but was still so tight and he just looked so damn pretty like that.

"Yes! More, more!" Sam's voice was muffled slightly but the pillows, but Dean could recognize the begging a mile away. Using his own spit that time, Dean added another finger, fucking into the tight pucker just how Sam wanted, hitting that sweet bundle of nerves every time.

"De-Dean-Can I, please? Need to-need to come!" Sam sobbed, his hand itching close to his red tipped cock, waiting for permission. Dean didn't know exactly when that started, Sam at one point just started asking him if he could come or not. The only thing Dean really knew was that it was so sexy being in control of that. Watching his baby brother squirm and beg was a sight to behold. Yeah, Dean would complain about his begging sometimes, but in the right context it was fucking hot.

Dean didn't want to deny him this that time. So he just leaned forward and peppered kisses all over his shoulder blades. "Come for me, baby boy."

Sam didn't need to be told twice. He jacked himself and thrusted back against those fingers and then he was gone. He came with a scream, shooting his load against the sheets. Dean just watched in awe as his baby brother's body spasmed and suddenly went slack, breathing heavily into the pillows.

Dean's dick was so hard it hurt. His mind was fuzzy as he stripped himself, barely even comprehending what he was doing. "Not gonna stick it in, just gotta.. oh fuck.." Dean mumbled as he slid his cock in between Sam's cheeks. His hips moved, the head of his cock catching at the rim. Dean was so fucking weak. So weak for his baby brother and it was so bad, so wrong, he couldn't let himself go that far-

"Just do it, Dean. Please." Sam said, his voice light and breathless from his orgasm. Dean licked his lips and shook his head, his resolve crumbling by the second.

"I don't have condoms.." It was his only chance of backing out. He always used them whenever he had a hookup. He hoped Sam felt the same, but he knew that wouldn't be the case as he thrusted back against his length.

"You don't need them with me, Dean. You're my first and I know you always use condoms when you.. you know." Dean could detect the jealousy in Sam's tone and he felt guilty for a new reason.

"I'm so sorry, baby.. You know you're the only one I want." And it was true, so fucking true, no matter how cliché it sounded. It was just that Dean was weak, a fact that had already been thoroughly established by then. He needed sex and for so long he denied Sam that. And Sammy was faithful, always faithful since he was thirteen years old and he just deserved so much better.

"Prove it."

It was a cheap tactic, Sam had to know that. But it was enough for Dean to finally break. "Get on your side. It'll be easier that way." Before he knew it, he was on his side behind Sam, kissing his neck and shoulders as he aligned himself with the wet entrance. He raised his hand to Sam's mouth and he already knew what to do as he licked and smeared his spit over the palm.

Dean slicked himself up, apologizing lightly for the lack of proper lubrication. Sam didn't care, "This is perfect. Please don't stop. Love you so much, De. Need you to fuck me." He babbled as he pressed himself against the head, almost pressing it inside. Dean gripped at Sam's hip to keep him still and finally moved, his cock head breaching through the too tight heat.

"Sammy, baby, so fuckin' tight-" How could he had possibly been with anyone else? He'd just gotten inside and it was already the best he ever had. He pushed in the rest of the way, slowly and gently, and Sam took him like he was born for it. "I'm in you, baby boy." Dean whispered as he kissed the shell of his little brother's ear. "You okay?"

It took a moment for Sam to respond and that got Dean worried. "Sam?" He propped himself on his elbow so he could look at him and his heart nearly broke. His baby brother was trying his best to blink back tears but some escaped and was running down the side of his flushed face. "Are you hurt?" Dean asked, worry laced in his tone. He knew this was a bad idea. How could he let himself-

"I'm good, Dean. So good." Sam sobbed, taking Dean out of his thoughts, "I know I'm cryin' like a baby right now, but please don't stop. I've just wanted this for so long.. had to watch you with other people.. Thought I wasn't enough." Sam admitted through a light murmur. Dean wrapped his arms around him and started moving at a slow pace, whispering apologizes and promises in Sam's ear.

"You are enough." Dean said, his voice gruff and deep, his hand running down Sam's muscled stomach and down his already hard length. "You always were enough. 'M just stupid. Have everything I need right here." Sam cried out in response, his head falling back on Dean's shoulder.

Dean was so deep inside of Sam, the tight heat sucking him in with each thrust. Sam was panting, mumbling, clawing at Dean's arms, "Harder, Dean. Gimme more." That was all Dean was able to catch and he groaned in response because yes, he needed more, too. He gave Sam a long kiss before turning him over and pulling his hips up, the same position that he was in before but this time Dean was finally in him, snapping his hips back in an almost violent pace. His hands ran over Sam's back gingerly, showing him some type of affection through it all.

Though it felt good-too good-he couldn't help but feel wrong. It was rushed, fucking him like that and just staring at the back of his head like he was some stranger. It almost felt like another one of his hookups and that just didn't sit right with him. Sam deserved a better first time that was he was being given. And that thought right there took over his weakness and made him stop and pull out.

"De..?" Sam's voice was slurred and muffled, obviously confused as to why Dean stopped. He groaned out as Dean flipped him over on his back, his eyes wide as he looked up at his brother. "Wha-" He was cut off by Dean's kiss, and it only took a second before he was wrapping himself around his brother and kissing back.

The older Winchester pulled Sam's knees up and pressed his way back inside, moaning deeply into the kiss at the same time as his baby. "God, baby boy." Dean moaned as he pulled back, "You're so beautiful like this." And it was true. Sam was sprawled out on the bed, legs wide and he was red, covered in sweat and chest heaving with each drawn out moan.

Sam's hands wandered over Dean's chest and toyed with the amulet, tugging hard as his back arched suddenly, "Dean! Oh shit. Right there, don't stop." His grip tightened around it and pulled Dean close again. "So close. Gonna let me come, De?"

"Fuck yeah, baby." He gave a hard thrust, watching as Sam's eyes rolled back, "Already so tight around me. M'not gonna last long after you. Gonna fill you up, Sammy." Their skin slapped together and the sound mingled with Sam's moans. He tugged Dean in by the necklace and kissed him as he came, coating their chests.

Sam's walls spasmed and tightened around Dean's cock, proving his statement true as he rode out his orgasm inside of his baby boy. The sensations were so much all at once, so fucking good and blissful that they hadn't even heard the familiar sound of crunching gravel beneath their father's truck. Dean's mind was only on Sam as he kissed him all over his face and pulled out slowly, as to not hurt the no doubt sore hole.

Sam looked up at him with hazel eyes full of love and wonder. His hands rested against his big brother's cheeks, "Dean." He said in a breathy whisper, a smile playing at his lips, so real and wide that his dimples were showing. Dean broke out into his own soft smile as he leaned against his baby boy's touch. He knew then that all he wanted to do was fully commit to Sam.

"Sammy, I-"

The sound of the door opening cut him off and made all the air leave his lungs. Time stopped moving in that very moment as their dad came into view, the smile John had on his face faded as he took in the sight in front of him. For a second Dean thought their dad was going to faint, and honestly, that would have been easier to deal with.

But no, it could never be that easy for them. Dean realized this as time started back again, grocery bags that he hadn't even realized were there slipped from their father's grip, a blind rage in his eyes that Dean had never seen before.

John had got done with his hunt sooner than expected. It'd been a long time since a simple salt and burn was just that: simple. The family that was being haunted thanked him profusely and even paid him in cash, which wasn't what normally happened but he sure wasn't going to say no. After that he sat in his truck not really knowing what to do and then it finally hit him.

It was Sammy's birthday! It'd been so long since he actually got to celebrate anything like that with his boys. It was still early in the day so he had time to get prepared. He was sure he had a stupid grin on his face the entire ride to Walmart. He couldn't help but feel happy because for once it felt like he was doing something right.

For years he missed out on birthdays and holidays and it all seemed worth it at the time, but the look on his son's faces every time he had to leave would break his heart. Obviously not enough to stay, but that day was different. At least they would have this one birthday and he'd get to see Sam smile, the real one with the dimples that was usually reserved for Dean.

Which was fair. For all intents and purposes, Dean raised Samuel. It was just a fact that John had came to accept. And it was his fault. No kid should have to raise another kid but that was exactly what happened. Still, not even that was enough to break John's smile. He walked through the aisles and got a movie, various snack options, as well as sodas and even a pack of beer. He was going to let Sam have his first full beer and everything was going to turn out good.

He held onto that thought as he made the half an hour drive back to the motel. He imagined their faces: shocked stares that would no doubt turn into wide grins, happy that their father was finally there. He knew he wouldn't get emotional, it just wasn't his way. He just hoped that this one night showed how much he actually cared.

He pulled into the parking lot of the motel, right beside the Impala. He smiled at her, Dean's Baby, and remembered the day he gave it to him. Dean had been beyond excited, thanking his father over and over again while running his fingers across the steering wheel. John shook his head and chuckled to himself as he got out and walked to the door.

For a split second, he thought about knocking. But then remembered he had his own key, so he let himself in, opening the door with his too wide grin, preparing himself to say 'happy birthday, Sammy!'

But the words fizzled out of his mind once he looked up and saw.. Sammy, his little boy, underneath his brother.. both naked as the day they were born. The smell of sex and semen filled his nostrils and left him feeling sick. John blinked a few times, hoping to God that it was just some messed up nightmare or even a forced vision from a demon.

Sam's hands were on Dean's cheeks even though the older boy was looking straight at John, his green eyes wide. This wasn't a dream. That, whatever that was, was real. That single thought brought him back to reality as the bags slipped from his grip and onto the floor.

"Dad, I, wait-" Dean could barely get a word in before he was shoved off the bed and pushed against the wall. He couldn't even be embarrassed about the fact that he was naked, he could only think about how it was all over. The thing him and Sam had been building.. "Oh, god.." He looked at Sam then, who was already crying and trying to get off the bed.

"Don't move, Sam." Dad said without even looking in his direction. He kept his gaze fixed on Dean, anger and disgust in his eyes. "Don't look at him. Look at me. Now, boy." He ordered, his voice getting louder when Dean took too long to look away. Dean was crying too, head slumped against the wall in defeat.

"Christo."

They all just stared at each other then, because Dean wasn't possessed. He was just in love with his brother. And that was possibly worse.

For a split second Dean saw a sadness in the hazel of his father's eyes, but it soon turned into pure rage, similar to the one he had before. Dean squeezed his eyes shut as John struck him with his fist. His lip was busted and the taste of it filled his mouth. He barely had enough time to spit it out before he was hit again, that time on his temple.

His ears were ringing and he could vaguely hear the sound of Sam cursing and yelling, demanding their dad to stop. John didn't take orders from anyone, especially not his own son, so Dean wasn't surprised when he felt another blow to the same spot. He fell to his knees then, a naked, pathetic lump of flesh that couldn't even fight back.

He could only hear half of their arguing, his vision was spotty and blood was dripping from more places than one. He knew they were just small cuts and maybe a minor concussion. He was going to be okay.. but that was only physically.

"I'm not leaving with you, dad. I'm not leaving Dean! We love each other and there's nothing you can do that's gonna change that." Sam said, his voice clear and strong and suddenly he looked older, his slanted eyes burning with hatred. Somehow during Dean's momentary blackout, the sixteen year old pulled on a shirt and a clean pair of boxers. Dean tried to get up then, because if Sammy could be strong then he could, too, damnit!

He staggered over to the corner of the room where he left his clothes and put on his underwear so he wouldn't be exposed any longer. "What the hell-stop!" The sound of Sam's voice made his head snap up and there was no way Dean could have been prepared to see the other end of his dad's gun.

The man that raised him, the one that handed him six month old Sammy at just four years old, was holding a gun on him. Dean could see anger and regret in his eyes, his mouth set into a deep frown.

"Dad?"

The sound of the gunshot echoed throughout room and in that same instant, white hot pain shot through Dean's leg. "Shit!" The twenty year old shouted as he fell back against the wall. He looked down at his thigh and saw blood running down his leg. It wouldn't be fatal if he acted quickly, John knew that but that wasn't the point. Son of a bitch.. He actually shot me! Dean thought as he pressed down on the wound.

"Why did you do that?! Shit-okay, I'll go, I'll go! Just don't kill him!" Sam had begged before, Dean was used it, but that time was different. He was panicked and desperate and tugging at John's shaking body.

"Pack your bag, Samuel." Then dad's stare was back on his oldest, the pain that was unmistakably there masked by hardness. "Don't you dare follow us, Dean. I'll be back in two days." John said as he put his gun away. He stood there and watched Sam pack. John spared a few glances at Dean but the middle Winchester could only see the older man's stare from the corner of his eye, simply because he couldn't stop looking at Sam.

The boy looked so young and so scared, nothing like the growth he saw from that outburst, fully clothed and shaking as he stuffed his belongings in his duffel. The older brother watched as Sam snagged one of Dean's tee shirts, held it close for a few seconds before finally putting it away. He got the laptop last as well as its charger.

When Sam finally made eye contact with Dean, there was an apology there, but Dean didn't understand it. What did he have to be sorry for? It wasn't like he wasn't the one who shot him. He tried to call out for him but Sam just shook his head, a silent message that just meant not now.

"Keep pressure on it, son." John sighed he turned away. He grabbed Sam by the arm and dragged him out. Dean watched them leave. He watched as John dragged his entire world away from him.

Dean listened as the truck pulled away, to the crunch of the gravel and then the silence. It was the silence that consumed him. It only meant Sammy was gone and it had to be all his fault. He fell into the fetal position and barely paid attention to the blood pooling around him. He could only picture Sam's face, how sad and broken it was.

He couldn't even hear the sounds of sirens in the background. He could only hear his own thoughts telling him that the look on Sam's face was all his fault. Not his dad's fault, just Dean's. If he had been stronger-

"Here he is! You still with us, sir?"

Dean blinked through his blurry vision and could see figures above him. He had no idea how long he'd been laying there, but it must have been long enough for police and paramedics to be called. He forced a nod and then he was grunting out in pain as he was put on a gurney.

He was light headed, blacking out every so often. He vaguely remembered one of the EMTs asking his name, and luckily he was lucid enough to give him the name on one of his matching fake IDs and Insurance cards. And then he was out again, Sam's face bouncing back and fourth to the beautiful tear stained boy to the broken sixteen year old.

John quickly dialed 911 as he started his truck and made sure someone was coming for Dean before he even pulled out of the parking lot. Sam didn't sob or scream like he'd done back in the room, just leaned against the window and let silent tears trail down his red cheeks. The only visible movement John could see was a breath of relief when he got help for Dean.

His stomach and heart clenched all at once. Sam looked distraught and Dean looked the exact same. They were both just completely and utterly broken and it just wasn't right. They weren't supposed to be that way. They're brothers, for Christ sake!

They're brothers and they're obviously in love and it's all John's fault.

He ran his hand over his face as he hit the gas, his knuckles bruised from the beating he gave Dean, passing each vehicle in his way. They were already in the next town, and he was determined to put as much distance between his sons as possible before he eventually had to stop. He had to fill the tank and make an important phone call.

"Thought you didn't want nothin' to do with me? That's what ya said last time anyhow." Bobby Singer had said as soon as he picked up the phone and realized who he was talking to. John sighed and leaned against the bed of the truck. He had said that. Their friendship sure was a complicated one.

"I know what I said, and I'm sorry. You know how heated I can get during a hunt." John sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. "I need help. It's about the boys." He could hear some scuffling from the other line, and he could already picture him sitting up straight in his chair.

"What about the boys? Are they okay?" The tone of Bobby's changed. It went from slightly annoyed to protective in less than a second, which only made sense considering Bobby helped raised them, too. John tried not to let the thought sting, reminding himself of why he was doing what he was doing in the first place. He let out a shaky breath and nodded to himself.

"No. They're not okay, Bobby. I can't get into it here. I just-" John took a moment to peek through the back window, and from there he could see Sam in the same position as before. Still looking just as broken. "I'm in North Carolina, right on the edge of Virginia. Do you think you could meet me half way?" He knew the answer before he even asked. He could hear more scuffling which John only assumed was the sound of Bobby getting prepared for a long drive.

Dean's red rimmed eyes snapped open and he was greeted with a too white room. It was cold and he was alone, and his first thought was where's Sammy? He thrashed and screamed because for some reason he was tied down. The room suddenly was too bright a nurse surrounded him, urging him to calm down.

He took in a deep breath and let his head fall back onto the pillow. "Where am I and why am I tied up?" He kept his eyes on the ceiling and not on the pretty nurse. It felt wrong looking at her, and he didn't understand why at first until her words finally sunk in. She gave him the name of the hospital he was in and explained that he was angry and lashing out on staff, asking for someone named Sammy. They had tie him down to assure he wouldn't harm himself and others.

And it was then that it all came flooding back. He and Sammy had their first time and it was amazing, and had finally came to the realization that he was ready to fully commit to his baby brother, but then their dad came and he.. he.. "Oh, fuck-" Dean gasped when the pain in his face and leg suddenly presented itself.

"I'll get you some pain meds, sweetie. Your father should be back up from the cafeteria soon." And then she was gone, leaving him alone for a few minutes to stew in his anxiety. His father was in the same building as him, after everything? And it also meant that two days had already passed, and he barely remembered any of it. He could see why as the nurse came back and pumped his IV with some pain killers. Not enough to knock him out, but enough to take the pain away.

She gave him the smile he knew too well. The flirty one that people liked to give him and it should have made him feel good, because he still had 'it' even beaten, but it just left a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. And she was really pretty, with dark brown skin, full lips and a curvy frame, exactly his type. Or one of them. He had many 'types.'

But she wasn't what he wanted. So he just turned his head and let her remove his restraints, and then she was gone. He stayed like that until the door opened again; flinching at the familiar sound of his father's boots.

He couldn't look at him either. Dean couldn't handle the disappointment that he knew would be there in his hazel eyes. The chair in the corner of the room screeched as John sat down and Dean could feel his eyes on him. He flinched again when the oldest Winchester called out his name and fuck, that made him feel even weaker.

"Yes, sir?" He fell back into solider mode because it was his best bet. He turned slightly until he was looking at the ceiling and could see his father from the corner of the eye that wasn't nearly swollen. John's face was hard; closed off.

"How's your leg?" John asked, his voice tight. Dean took in a shaky breath. "It's fine." The middle Winchester answered simply. He fisted the sheets and tried to keep his breathing at a normal rate. His father stayed silent for a long time and that was worse. Every slight movement made Dean's breath get caught in his throat and he knew John had to notice.

"Look at me, boy."

Dean did as he was told, turning his head until he was finally looking up at his father, who wasn't sitting anymore and was actually nearing him. Dean kept eye contact the entire time and tried his best to be still, but the moment his father's hand raised he winced, hard. John frowned at the sight, but continued the movement. Dean was more than surprised to feel it against his cheek, thumb gently smoothing over the bruises. He wasn't used to that kind of affection from John Winchester.

"I won't say I'm sorry, Dean. I can't." The older man's voice was unusually soft, and it wasn't exactly comforting, "A father should never have to see that."

Dean felt an overwhelming urge to beg for his dad's forgiveness, but that didn't feel right. What Sam and him were, it wasn't wrong. Not to Dean. Why should he have to apologize for it? Instead, he kept silent and listened as his father began to speak again.

"You were supposed to protect him. That was the one thing I trusted you with most of all. Do you remember that, Dean? When I put little Sammy in your arms?"

Dean nodded and blinked away tears. He'd never forget that night. Even at just four, every detail was ingrained into his memory.

"Then why? You took advantage of Sam, your little brother! How could you do that to him, son?" John asked, something strange in his voice but Dean couldn't place it. He was too busy forcing down the bile in his throat, the implications making him sick.

"What? No, I, he-" Dean shook his head and tried his best to sit up some, "I could never hurt Sammy." That was the important thing his dad had to understand. He would never force Sam to do anything he didn't want to do.

"Really? You didn't notice how he was limping all the way out the door?" The soft tilt to his voice was dissipating and that along with the fact that no, Dean had not noticed that, made him choke out a sob.

"No, I guess you wouldn't have. You've been fooling yourself, Dean. All you've been doing is hurting him." John's eyes burned into Dean's like he just wanted him to get it, to fully understand the damage he caused. Dean shook his head, tried his best to block it out, but the image of thirteen year old Sammy with tear stained cheeks wouldn't go away.

You took advantage of him while he was in vulnerable state of mind..

Too young to understand..

You caused this..

Dean broke then. He sobbed and pulled at his hair and John just watched, and if Dean hadn't been too worried about holding down his vomit, he would have noticed the oldest Winchester wiping away his own tears, murmuring his own apologizes.

Dean didn't talk much after that. He developed a hardness around him similar to John's. Which worked efficiently during hunts and even during long car rides. He tried not to think about Sam.

Which, never worked out. He was always there, slipping into the cracks of Dean's barriers. Dean ached for him when he was alone, so he just made sure that wasn't the case. He'd have someone beneath him most nights, mostly men with long hair and soft hazel eyes. It was as close as he was going to get, and if he took them from behind, it was easier to pretend.

His life turned into a whole lot of pretending.

Pretending that he was okay. Pretending that he didn't cry at night. Pretending that he wasn't weak for his little brother. And it had worked for the most part. It had been almost six months since the night it all ended, with zero contact with Sam. Dean was okay with that. they were better off that way.

Until one night he managed to check his email for any updates on his current hunt, his breath catching in his throat once he saw a familiar address.

Swinchester1983 :

Dean, I don't know if you'll ever see this, but I just got to know you're okay. I think about you every single day. Bobby won't let me talk to you. Dad's orders. Did he hurt you again?

I keep replaying that moment in my head. Him shooting you.. I wish I could have done more. I'm so sorry Dean.

Anyway.. Bobby's making me go this stupid school and look at college applications and I know this is what I always talked about, what I always wanted, but it doesn't feel right without you. I always thought you'd be helping with this.

I feel empty when you're not around, De. I need you like I need air to breathe. I know how cheesy that sounds, jerk, but I know you're feeling the same way.

Please respond. I love you.

Dean read the message over and over again, and it was around the tenth time that he realized he was crying. "Fuck." He let out in a harsh breath, rubbing his wet cheeks with his jacket sleeve. There were so many things he wanted to say.

'I love you, too, baby. More than Baby herself, more than anything in this entire world. I'm on the way to get you. We'll run away and never have to worry about dad again. Just you and me, Sammy.'

That's what he wanted to say, what he literally almost typed out but stopped once he remembered his father's voice, his tone and the disappointment in his eyes. What they did.. it was wrong. And Dean had hurt Sam. Took advantage of him. He messed his little brother up when he was supposed to protect him.

And just from reading Sam's email, his life had changed, and it was actually normal. That was what Sam always wanted and he finally got that chance. If Dean came he'd just ruin everything like he was known to do.

So instead, he wrote back something small and definite.

Impala67 :

It's over, Sam. Goodbye.

Dean disabled his email and chucked his shitty laptop against the motel wall. He'd be back at libraries for research for sure, but it really didn't matter to him. Everything he always wanted was gone and there was no hope in getting it back.

Months turn into years and suddenly Dean was thirty-nine staring at his reflection in a grimy motel bathroom. His eyes were red rimmed and he was too sober, feeling everything all at once with nothing to stop it. Dad was killed during a hunt a few years back, and Dean had no friends, had no Sammy to fall back on.

He was completely and utterly alone.

He'd been in this position a few times before, his gun in the sink in front of him. He'd grab it and press it to his temple, counting to ten before pressing lightly against the trigger. But he'd stop himself just before going through with it, and that usually left him on his knees vomiting the contents of his stomach, murmuring apologizes to the boy he once loved.

That night was different. It was nearing his birthday, just a couple more minutes to be exact. Dean was going to be forty and that meant he spent two decades without his brother, or it would be on Sam's birthday, but Dean didn't feel like waiting that long. He was tired of fighting the never ending guilt and shame.

He just wanted it all to go away.

One

Dean brought the gun to his temple and looked at his reflection.

Two

He let himself remember the day Sam gave him his amulet, the one he still had on that very moment. It was when he first realized he loved Sam more than a brother was supposed to.

Three

Their first kiss. He'd forgotten what state they were in when it happened. The only thing he could recall was tear stained cheeks and soft lips.

Four

Making love to Sam was the most beautiful moment in this entire existence. It was never supposed to happen but it did, and the feel of Sam's body beneath his haunted his dreams.

Five

His cell phone rang for the third time that night. He tried to ignore it.

Six

John took his Sammy away. Dean started to press against the trigger lightly, barely enough to add pressure.

Seven

The ringing wouldn't stop. His ringer was on, breaking through his concentration ever so slightly.

Eight

Sammy was better off without him. Dean checked up on him three years ago and his little brother was happily married and was a big time lawyer. Way better off.

Nine

"I love you, De. More than anything." Dean let out a choked sob, loosening his grip slightly. The ringing was like knives to his ears.

Ten

Sam's face, older than he was back then, popped into Dean's brain. His cheeks were red and wet with tears just like that night, begging him to stop.

Dean dropped the gun back in the sink with a loud curse. He always was too weak to go through with it, but he knew he'd try again.

First though he decided to finally pick up the phone, just to stop the incessant ringing.

"Hello?" Dean answered, his tone sharp. A somewhat relieved sob came from the other end, with other noises there, similar to a baby crying in the background.

"Dean." it was Sammy's voice, just a little deeper. It made Dean's knees feel weak. It'd been so long since he heard that voice. Dean couldn't find his own.

"I know you-you probably don't want to hear from me. I just.. just had no one else-Shh, shh, Mary, it's okay-Dean? H-hello?" Sam stuttered and Dean had to take in a few deep breaths. There was definitely a baby over there with the same name as their mom. So many emotions ran through him at once as he tried his best to respond.

"Yeah. M'here." Dean listened as Sam tried his best to calm the baby. "Are.. are you okay, Sam?" He asked and he sure didn't miss the sob of a grown man that ripped through the other line.

"No.. We're not okay. I.. I need you, De."

At hearing those words, he immediately started packing. He felt more alive than he had in years, adrenaline pumping in his veins with that newfound purpose.

"Oh, and, uh.. happy birthday." Sam stammered and despite everything happening around them, Dean couldn't help but smile.

End of Part One